There they all were. BBC eminence grise Alan Yentob, Tate director Sir Nicholas Serota, artist Michael Craig-Martin, plus a very tall man who I thought was multi-millionaire dealer Anthony D’Offay but turned out to be some other artworld honcho.

And lots of other people who looked vaguely familiar so are presumably also famous. Yes, it was the annual Serpentine Gallery launch after-party at Richard and Ruthie Rogers’ Chelsea home. People sell their kidneys for invitations to this. As usual it was packed, broiling, Ruthie’s food as delicious as ever. 

There was Alice Rawsthorn, previous director of the Design Museum, lodged firmly at one end of the vast room. There at the other end, equally firmly ensconced, was her nemesis Deyan Sudjic, the present director. Neither moved an inch from their chosen positions all evening, presumably in order to avoid eye contact. It reminded me of the time I’d offended Zaha Hadid and we found ourselves at the same No. 11 Downing Street reception. PR queen Erica Bolton made it her business to station herself in the middle of the room in case fisticuffs broke out. (We made it up by text).

The architects there were of the modish variety. Such as Sean Griffiths of FAT, Farshid Moussavi and Alejandro Zaera Polo of Foreign Office Architects, Amanda Levete (formerly Future Systems) and so forth. The usual cat-scratch of critics, the usual middle-aged man wearing a trilby, various society beauties showing a lot of fake – and in some cases even real – tan. Of course there was the fragrantly head-girlish Julia Peyton-Jones of the Serpentine Gallery with her sidekick Hans Ulrich Obrist. And, slightly lost in the middle of all this, the diminutive smiling forms of Kazuyo Sejima and Ryue Nishizawa of SANAA, architects of this year’s pavilion.

The common consent in the room was that this is one of the best pavilions for years (quite right, it is) so the toast to the architects was that much more rousing in consequence. Ruthie did the honours, apologising for the absence of Richard who was ill – and, said Ruthie, being a party animal was incapable of showing up only briefly, so best kept right away. Another toast, to absent Richard. Get well soon! 

I’d just like to say that this is by no means my usual milieu. You’re much more likely to find me at the Three Kings off Clerkenwell Green, or at home. Still, it would be churlish not to turn up, don’t you agree?