IT was during a singalong in the hot tub at 10.30pm on Friday that I realised hen parties were the best thing ever.

I was sceptical at first: this time last week I was so stressed I was snapping at people, barely sleeping and muttering about cash, strippers and 90’s fashion.

You see I was never a fan of the hen do. The thought of getting together with people you barely know and spending loads of money on organised activities all seemed a bit unnecessary.

I mean, wouldn’t we all rather just go on a night out with the friends we know inside out? I worried we had followed in the footsteps of the Americans with their over-the-top bachelor/bachelorette parties. Forced fun has always annoyed me.

But then I went on a hen weekend – a whole three days and two nights of forced fun – and guess what? I had so much fun.

What I realised was that hen celebrations are just like being young again, but you’re old enough to drink alcohol and drive. Not at the same time, of course.

We went to a wee lodge near Dundee for my friend Claire’s last days of freedom.

And we partied like it was 1999.

It also felt a bit like that because there was no phone reception.

The theme was the 90s so it was all about bucket hats, glowsticks, bomber jackets, dungarees, scrunchies and combat trousers.

It was a happy coincidence that TFI Friday was back on the TV too, although we were too busy listening to Brit pop to watch it. And the effects of cider meant we couldn’t work the TV in the first place.

We took part in gin tasting, did quizzes, sang at the top of our voices and decorated rudely shaped cookies.

Where else do you get to do these things?

We toyed with the idea of a naked butler but decided the cringefactor would be too high since we were a small group.

But again, where else do you get to even consider these things?

Now I understand why the hen party who mobbed Ed Miliband in the run up to the election were in such high spirits - everything is funny among hens.

I think the hen party should be rolled out to all women, not just those who are getting married.

Every few months women should get together with other women who they don’t know well and do all the daft things that hen parties require.

Now pass me the rudely shaped straws, confetti and novelty badges because it turns out the humble hen do is right up my street.