Music journalist Ash London wasn’t looking for love when she took her seat at the Arias in 2016, but her stomach flipped when she saw a curly haired man in a black suit
Like most sane people, I’d always assumed “love at first sight” was a concept reserved solely for sappy romcoms and teenage diary musings. It certainly didn’t happen in real life, to real people, and it certainly couldn’t happen to me. I was entirely devoted to my career in radio and, after a particularly bad breakup, had all but sworn off love.
It was November 2016 and raining. I remember, because I’d just had my hair and makeup done. I cursed the grey Sydney sky that was quickly turning my hair frizzy as I raced to the Star casino, like I did every year around this time. It was the Aria music awards, which meant I’d soon be in a room with a few thousand people sipping free booze and growing increasingly raucous as the night progressed. This night was one for debauchery, drunkenness and maybe a cheeky pash on a dark dancefloor. It certainly wasn’t where you met your future husband.
Continue reading...