Six Types of Party Guest, Vol. 23, Issue 72

Even people who never entertain are more likely to give a party during the winter holidays than at other times of year. Maybe that’s why Etiquetteer has been thinking about different kinds of party guests and what can be done about them . . .

The Early: You’re rushing about filling candy dishes or turning the roast or, saints preserve us, getting out of the shower, and ding-dong, there’s Miss Pearl Early, 15 minutes or more ahead, blithely unaware and ready to party. Park her in the living room with an apologetic smile and a “I’ve still got a few things to do before seven o’clock, but then I’ll be right with you.” (Etiquetteer sees no reason not to mention the time, as long as you can do so kindly.) If they offer to help, put them to work! Hosts can mitigate the impact of early arrivals by planning to have “curtain up” 15-30 minutes before the party starts*. But really, weather permitting, it’s more thoughtful for early arrivals to walk around the block or wait in the car until the party starts.

The Tardy: Flip the coin and you get the guest who waltzes in after dinner has been both held for them and finally served out of consideration for the other guests. (It can also be fatal on games night when you absolutely must have six players.) One can use traffic as an excuse only so much. Hosts may only express surprise and delight when the Tardy arrive, but if they’ve missed the soup, they’ve missed the soup.

The Allergic: Now before you get all up in arms, Etiquetteer has to point out that we live in a much more sympathetic time about food allergies. You can’t just grin and bear it if eating something could send you to the hospital or the morgue. But to hear “Oh, I can’t eat this” when everyone is already at the table is one of the greatest challenges a host can face. The standard solution is scrambled eggs, but even then that takes the host back to the kitchen away from the table. For those with severe allergies**, pre-party communication is key to a smooth evening. Sometimes that means bringing your own refreshments, which is Perfectly Proper when handled with discretion.

The Critic: Nothing is good enough for some people, who share suggestions about how things could have been done differently throughout the party. People forget sometimes that a private home is not a restaurant where one pays for the hospitality one wants. If you don’t want to be invited back (and perhaps you don’t), this is the way to do it — but Etiquetteer doesn’t recommend it. Be kind.

The Deejay: Don’t like the host’s music? Don’t like the host’s absence of music? Grin and bear it. Unless specifically asked, keep your hands off the a/v, and don’t maneuver your own playlist over the speakers. Hosts makes choices about whether or not to have music to create the atmosphere they want to project. If you prefer a different atmosphere, what a wonderful opportunity for you to give your own party.

The Perfectly Proper: This is the guest we all enjoy the most, who has reread the invitation on the day of the party to know when to arrive, how to get there, and what to bring (if anything). The Perfectly Proper arrive on time, smiling, ready to make conversation with all present, and to help out if absolutely necessary. They don’t overstay their welcome, and send a Lovely Note of Thanks the next day. It is a joy to entertain them.

*And really, that moment of quiet anticipation when everything is ready and the lighting is just so . . . it’s one of the nicest moments any host can have.

**It is really Not at All Perfectly Proper to plead allergy when you just don’t like something.

Random Ideas About the Holidays, Vol. 23, Issue 71

They’re getting closer and closer, the winter holidays*. The jury is out on whether or not that Mr. Dimmick Who Thinks He Knows So Much will, like Christina Crawford, “get the cards out on time, OK?” But there is still time to consider a few things “to make the season bright.” Etiquetteer turns for inspiration today to Dame Curtsy’s Book of Novel Entertainments for Every Day of the Year.

First, let’s consider gifts of money. Etiquetteer is not alone in wanting gifts to feel more like gifts and less like transactions. That is one of the drawbacks of the ubiquitous gift card. Dame Curtsy gave a surprise when she wrote “There are occasions when it is best to give money instead of articles.” But she quickly justified Etiquetteer’s position by adding “Even then there may be a pleasant mystery about receiving it.” Origami is one way (several possible folds may be found here at the Daily Dabble), and Dame Curtsy describes a man folding greenbacks into the folds of a paper fan to give to his mother. She also recommends a scavenger hunt for young children to find silver dollars hidden throughout the house. (That could be challenging.) Of course there is nothing wrong with the plain white envelope (either handed directly to the recipient or hidden on the Christmas tree); Etiquetteer likes those best when they include a handwritten message from the giver, too.

Dame Curtsy recommends some, shall we say, involved ways of distributing gifts. Etiquetteer doesn’t think much of her “Snowball Christmas” idea to roll every gift in cotton, “dip lightly in mucilage or gum arabic water, then sprinkle plentifully with diamond dust. Pile these balls in a pyramid . . . with a wreath of holly around them.” The entire house would glitter like Varykino until Memorial Day! More user friendly is the “Christmas Barrel,” a large barrel decorated with crepe paper and holly and ribbons, placed somewhere in the house where everyone could get to it before Christmas to put their presents in. “At breakfast it was rolled into the dining room and the contents disclosed” by a family member chosen to be Santa by drawing candy canes instead of straws. “This is not much trouble, and infinitely better than just the ordinary way of giving things.” She also suggests putting presents into an urn as a table centerpiece, and making a “huge stocking . . . with a wire in the hem around the top to keep it open.” If you’re looking for some novelty in your Christmas morning, one of these methods might be worth exploring.

Etiquetteer wishes you joy as you contemplate novelty, tradition, and of course Perfect Propriety for the Holiday of Your Choice.

*Indeed, 2024 uniquely synchronizes the three winter holidays. Hanukkah begins at sundown on December 25 and Kwanzaa begins December 26.

Punch, Vol. 23, Issue 70

“Fill the flowing bowl with cheer, make the welkin ring!” — “Jingle Bells from Capitol Records,” Capitol Studio Orchestra

“. . . and seething bowls of punch, that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam.” — A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens

“Claret for the curate, burgundy for the vicar, port for the bishop, champagne for the archbishop — the hierarchy of punch.” — Uncle Paxton in The Flower Girls, by Clemence Dane

Does anyone really make and serve punch at home any longer, or is it just confined to wedding receptions and other events in church halls? (One certainly does not see it in hotels.) Perhaps it’s because the necessary equipment is so bulky to store. One must have a proper punch bowl — which doesn’t have to be large; they can hold as little as a gallon — and punch cups, and a good-sized ladle.

Or perhaps punch just acquired a reputation for being too sweet. Etiquetteer grew up with something called Golden Methodist Punch, invariably served at any function in the church hall, which included ginger ale or Sprite, various frozen fruit juices, and lemon sherbet. (Often these are enhanced with an ice ring of frozen punch decorated with maraschino cherries and mint leaves and Heaven knows what else.) Palates of this century require something a bit more sophisticated — or spiked. Etiquetteer once made a punch with nothing but sauterne and lemon sorbet. Most refreshing, but lethal after more than two servings.

The more English tradition is for a hot punch made with some sort of wine, often (and fondly by the cognoscenti) known as Smoking Bishop. Eggnog is more typical in the States; people forget that it is actually a punch, milk punch, and may be served from a punch bowl as well as a pitcher or individually. Etiquetteer loves a good eggnog (in moderation), and you’ll find Etiquetteer’s family recipe here. (Max Miller at Tasting History offers a Boozy Eggnog and another 19th-century recipe — worth your attention.)

If you’re going to serve punch at your holiday party (or home wedding — and why not?), be sure you have all the needed equipment: a punch bowl and a handled tray of silver, glass, or porcelain; punch cups (glass or silver are best, repurposing teacups is not what Etiquetteer would call Perfectly Proper), a ladle, and napkins*. None of these things have to match, thank goodness. If the punch is so good the bowl gets emptied, it should be brought back to the kitchen to be refilled. No one should see the magic happen.

There’s an old stereotype about church socials with two punch bowls at opposite ends of the table. One is spiked and one is plain. If alcohol isn’t part of your regime, for whatever reason, and there’s only one punch bowl, you may certainly ask if the punch is spiked before accepting a glass, and decline it if it is.

Etiquetteer wishes you the punchiest and most Perfectly Proper functions this season.

*Dear Mother, may she rest in peace, would want you to have a napkin in case of drips.

Ten Tips for Holiday Parties, Vol. 23, Issue 69

Hosts and guests need a refresher on getting through the holiday party circuit happily and with Perfect Propriety. It can be done! Herewith, a few tips, not just from Etiquetteer.

1. Etiquetteer has long said “For maximum fun potential, arrive early.” But the great Shirley Bassey said it even more forcefully: “You better get this party started!” Don’t wait around. Show up in the first 15 minutes. The hosts will be relieved people are actually there.

2. The late Sarah Bernhardt had two words she used to make guests feel especially welcome. When someone arrived she would exclaim “Enfin!”* to indicate that she had been eagerly awaiting them. And when they came to bid farewell, she would ask “Déjà?” in a regretful tone, perhaps cocking her head a little, to show sadness that their time together had come to an end.**

3. For many people, COVID is still an important, anxious factor in going out. The pandemic has made us more sympathetic to last-minute cancellations due to illness (or should have). If you’re experiencing symptoms, please be prudent.

4. Joan Crawford includes Noel Coward’s praise of her in her book My Way of Life: “‘Joan not only gives a party, she goes to it.’ I think that’s one secret of a good party: all the arrangements seem so effortless as if they floated down from a nearby cloud and the hostess had nothing to do but enjoy herself.” Spoken like a hostess who could hire help and did, but the point remains for those of us who can’t. When you have to do it all yourself, the arrangements seem effortless at the party when you put rigorous attention into the details beforehand.***

5. If you are bringing wine, as many people do, don’t expect to be served what you’ve brought, especially on arrival.

6. The best hors d’oeuvres are those that leave nothing behind. Toothpicks and shrimp tails are inconvenient enough, not to mention lamb bones from those succulent lamb lalas (or whatever they’re called). But porcelain spoons for meatballs and other tasty bits, and even demitasse cups for soup sips — as that precious woman said in Unzipped, “Fussy, finished!” Keep your refreshments simple.

7. More wisdom from Joan Crawford: “Even with a buffet, people must sit down to eat. You just can’t ask guests to stand around balancing a plate, silver, a serviette****, and trying to find a fourth hand for a glass of wine.” She’s not wrong!*****

8. Party conversations swirl like river currents, which means they can begin and end abruptly. Don’t feel offended if you weren’t able to finish that story because the other guest was tapped on the shoulder by a long-lost friend. Just keep moving.

9. Lady Macbeth was perhaps a bit brusque when she told her dinner guests “At once, good night. Stand not upon the order of your going, but go at once.”****** Great-Grandmother Dougherty was more succinct: “If ya gonna go, go!” Don’t bring your hosts to the point where they’re ordering you out of the house. Leave early enough that your departure is regretted — so that when Sarah Bernhardt asks you “Déjà?” she really does miss you already.

10. Now you knew Etiquetteer would say this . . . send a Lovely Note of Thanks afterward! If you time it correctly, your holiday card can double for this purpose.

Now sally forth and have a good time!

*Etiquetteer has been known to exclaim “Finalmente!” for much the same reason.

**Etiquetteer just cannot find the source of this charming little bit at the moment.

***My Way of Life, page 78.

****“Serviette” is never Perfectly Proper; she could be the French maid. Always say “napkin.”

*****My Way of Life, page 78.

******Macbeth, Act III, scene iv

Sweaty Palms, Vol. 23, Issue 68

“Men wore white gloves, I’m glad to say, and that was very nice that they wore gloves. Because then your dress didn’t get stained behind [by] the sweat from the hand.” — Diana Tennant, interviewed in the 2001 BBC documentary Debutantes

Dear Etiquetteer:

My wife and I are going to a weekly Scottish country dancing class/social dance. It’s a mixed bag of experienced dancers and beginners, with singles as well as couples. The social part is everyone, and the experienced people pair up with beginners. Regardless, most dances involve progressing through other partners. One of the other dancers has what can only be described as grossly sweaty hands. Is there anything one can politely say to get them to maybe dry them between dances?

Dear Dancing:

There are few better ways to get to know an entire room full of people than country dancing. If you are dancing “longways for as many as will,” which is two lines of couples facing each other, you will end up dancing at least one figure with everyone in the line.

Perspiring hands have long been known as a dance hazard, so gentlemen already have a couple solutions. At a ball a gentleman wore a pair of white gloves* (sometimes provided by the hostess) so that his hand would not leave sweaty marks on the ballgowns of his partners. “If a lady waltz with you, beware not to press her waist; you must only lightly touch it with the open palm of your hand, lest you leave a disagreeable impression not only on her ceinture*, but on her mind,” wrote The Perfect Gentleman in 1860. Indeed, Professor Thomas E. Hill, in The Essential Handbook of Victorian Etiquette, suggested that gentlemen have two pairs, one to wear before supper and one to wear after. To Etiquetteer that suggests that Freshness matters.

Dancing gloves must be white. “White gloves are indispensable,” according to The amateur’s preceptor on dancing & etiquette, by D.L. Carpenter. '“Do not wear black or colored gloves, lest your partner look sulky,” added Charles William Day in his Hints on Etiquette. Their emphasis was that gentlemen who might prefer darker gloves because they were in mourning had no business in a ballroom to begin with.

A country dance is too informal for white gloves. But Professor Hill provides our solution. “No gentleman should use his bare hand to press the waist of a lady in the waltz. If without gloves, he should carry a handkerchief in his hand.” Why not offer this Oblivious Sweaty Dancer a clean handkerchief in friendly fashion after the first dance? “I find I work up a sweat after the first dance, don’t you? Oh no, keep it, I have another.” A bandana might be more in keeping with the informality of the dance, or even a tartan hanky since you specify Scottish country dancing. Make this a habit every week, and this person should eventually Take the Hint and provide their own.

You are careful not to specify the gender of this dancer — and of course all humans can work up a sweat. But Etiquetteer must emphasize that a gentleman does not correct a lady on something as basic as hygiene, nor a lady a gentleman. The offer of a handkerchief is one thing, but an extended discussion is quite another. Take care not to create embarrassment.

Etiquetteer wishes you many joyful evenings, “foot[ing] it featly here and there, and sweet sprites bearing the [sweaty] burden.”***

*A lady always wore gloves no matter what, including while dancing, but not at table.

**“A belt or sash for the waist,” according to the dictionary.

***The Tempest, Act I, scene ii.

Ten Tips for Thanksgiving Manners, Vol. 23, Issue 67

For those who might need a little refresher in Perfect Propriety at the table before Thanksgiving tomorrow, Etiquetteer has ten tips that should help the Great Feast go smoothly:

1. If your Thanksgiving dinner is served at table, wait until everyone is served before starting to eat. If it’s a buffet, wait until at least one other person has joined you at the table before starting. Many households include the saying of grace before the start of a meal. Under no circumstances should you begin eating until after grace has been said.

2. The only screen involved in a Great Feast should be a Coromandel screen masking the kitchen door. That means no television, and especially no phones at the table. It does not matter if The Game is on. Don’t make Etiquetteer come after you.

3. Remember the handy mnemonic BMW for your place setting: Bread is to the left, your Meal is in the middle, and Water/Wine is to the right. It’s so easy to reach for someone else’s bread plate, especially at a round table. Take care.

4. Serving dishes are passed to the right in the U.S. They are not properly passed to the left, and they should not be passed across the table. Be patient with those who have difficulty serving themselves. Keep everything moving — don’t let the whole service stack up to your left!

5. Use the ladle in the gravy boat. Don’t pour out of the spout, which was actually created not for pouring but to rest the handle of the ladle.

6. Salt and pepper shakers may look alike. If so, go ahead and shake a little into your hand to see what you’re getting yourself into. (Etiquetteer comments more on this here.)

7. Your napkin goes in your lap, and stays there until you leave the table. If you’re leaving the table for seconds (as happens at the Great Feasts) or to wash your hands, put your napkin on your chair. If you are leaving the table for the final time, casually leave your napkin to the left of your plate.

8. The only reason one leaves the table mid-meal (besides seconds) is “to wash your hands.” No one needs to know specifically what you’re going to do in the bathroom, for heaven’s sake.

9. It is thoughtful to ask your hosts how you can help, especially after the meal. And it is even more thoughtful to do what they ask of you, whether that’s hand-washing the silver or leaving them alone to take care of cleanup themselves.

10. Never assume you’re going home with leftovers, even if it’s a tradition at the Thanksgiving dinner you attend. Sure, bring your containers to be prepared, but leave them in the car or disguised in an opaque tote bag. No one needs to be aware of your mouth-watering, anticipatory gluttony.

Etiquetteer wishes you a beautiful, savory, peaceful, and Perfectly Proper Thanksgiving.

Restaurant Dining, Vol. 23, Issue 66

“You should know,” she explained, in an indulgent tone, “that we of the non-useful class depend for our amusement upon departure from precedent. Just now it is a fad to put ice in champagne. The idea was originated by a visiting Prince of Tartary while dining at the Waldorf. It will soon give way to some other whim. Just as at a dinner party this week on Madison Avenue a green kid glove was laid by the plate of each guest to be put on and used while eating olives.” — from “While the Auto Waits,” by O. Henry

Dear Etiquetteer:

We ordered a nice bottle of wine with our dinner at a great restaurant in our neighborhood recently. (We live in a big city.) I was a little wary when the server brought a stemless wineglass for my partner to try the wine first — surely it was only for the initial tasting, right? But no, we were brought stemless glasses after all. Etiquetteer, this is not my favorite choice. Could I have asked the server to bring actual stemmed wineglasses?

The other problem with this otherwise good dinner was the silverware. When our first course plates were cleared, the server carefully moved our used knives and forks from where we had put them across our plates back onto the table so that we could use them for the next course. At those prices, I felt like they needed to up their game and bring clean silver for each course. What should I have said?

Dear Dining:

Etiquetteer sympathizes. When expectations are not met, it can feel disconcerting. Even so, it’s really important not to take it out on the waiter. Front line restaurant staff don’t make decisions about a restaurant’s standard of service, including equipment; they merely carry it out. So be kind in how you bring this up.

Stemless wineglasses are Not Perfectly Proper*, not just because the heat of one’s hands affects the temperature of the wine, but because of the Unsightly Fingerprints. And yet Etiquetteer understands it, of course. They came to be because humans crave novelty. Earlier this century it was novel to serve craft cocktails in Mason jars, as though they were moonshine. When Etiquetteer was served a martini that way in a New York hotel noted for its sophistication — let’s just say the entire experience was Off Brand. Etiquetteer hopes the novelty of a stemless wineglass will fade**.

Had you asked for a stemmed wineglass, though, Etiquetteer doubts the restaurant could have accommodated you. Restaurants and bars have very limited storage for their equipment, and they probably don’t have space for them. Ask politely if you will, but be prepared to grin and bear the stemless to your lips***. If you return, bringing your own glassware might feel right in the moment, but a) it will only call attention from other diners, and b) you then have to take home dirty glasses. Etiquetteer does not recommend this approach.

As to the soiled silver, yes, Etiquetteer shares your, um, revulsion. Used silver is never put back on the table. But some restaurants are Like That. You could have asked “Could you bring us fresh silver, please?” immediately as the waiter was moving the silver. But what if the response had been “No, one knife and fork per person!” The only recourse then would have been to “accidentally” drop your silver onto the floor. Then they would have to bring you fresh silver.

This is an opportunity to vote with your pocketbook. As with any business, if you’re unhappy with the product or service, bring your business elsewhere. But don’t be a Karen about it.

*It’s possible to repurpose them for trifles, parfaits, and other desserts.

**More on the pros and cons of stemless wineglasses may be found in this 2022 article from the Wine Enthusiast.

***When you are a guest in a private home, you absolutely say nothing if you don’t like how something is served. Good heavens!

Gossip, Vol. 23, Issue 65

“Reputation, reputation!” — Victor von Frankenstein*

“He that goeth about as a talebearer revealeth secrets: therefore meddle not with him that flattereth with his lips**.” — Proverbs 20:19

Dear Etiquetteer:

It has recently come to my attention that an ex-partner has been circulating all sorts of baseless and malicious stories about myself to anyone who will listen. This poses a problem as we have friends and acquaintances in common, some of whom have no qualms whatsoever in questioning further based on what has been said about me. My question to you is this: how does a person politely go about defending themselves when accused of malicious nonsense? My concern is that a failure to answer would be taken as admission whereas any answer at all is a loss of one’s temper and therefore impolite and graceless.

Dear Silently Outraged:

Etiquetteer is so sorry that you have to go through this. The best defense has always been to live your life in such a way that any malice directed at you would be unbelievable on its face. Of course that’s a high bar to clear. Etiquetteer could not clear it, and as for That Mr. Dimmick Who Thinks He Knows So Much . . . nuffus dixit! It didn’t even work for Catherine of Aragon, that Pillar of Domestic Virtue. That business about Virtue being its own reward is the bunk.

Etiquetteer appreciates that you want to deflect this situation politely, when it’s much more natural to go for the jugular. Dignified Silence remains Perfectly Proper, besides being a Time-Honored Standard. Even so, it isn’t always possible. That the source of these rumors is an ex-partner should encourage you that anything said can be brushed off. “Oh, Pat! Still upset about our breakup and invested in making things difficult for me. None of it’s true. Just disregard.” Reverse the narrative. The real story is about your ex spreading lies, not about anything you did. Etiquetteer doesn’t see the need for a social media post on the subject***, but something to address individually with friends when they bring it up (or if they already have).

What’s more disturbing to Etiquetteer is those of your circle so eager to gossip that they are asking for more details. That says more about who they are than it does about you. Use that knowledge to create some distance. Cultivate more distant acquaintances in your circle, and new friends.

Etiquetteer understands your anxiety not to be thought of as losing your temper. The manner of your response will make all the difference here. Remaining calm in difficult situations is always the best defense. Instead of Vesuvius, be the placid stream slowly wearing down the rocks.

Etiquetteer wishes you the victory of Truth over Malice, and a circle of undoubted friends.

*That’s FRONK-en-steen.

**More simply translated as “A gossip betrays a confidence; so avoid anyone who talks too much.”

***Etiquetteer almost said “press release” . . . how dated!

Declining Thanksgiving Dinner, Vol. 23, Issue 64

“She’s to keep to two subjects: the weather and everybody’s health—Fine day and How do you do, you know — and not to let herself go on things in general. That will be safe.” — Henry Higgins, Pygmalion, by George Bernard Shaw

“You know, we must have a nice talk about the Civil War sometime — just you and I.” — Marie Dressler as Carlotta Vance in Dinner at Eight (1933)

Is it just Etiquetteer, or is there a lot more chatter this year about whether or not to go to Thanksgiving dinner as usual? Unsurprisingly, politics is the cause. It feels like a great reordering of our relationships is taking place — just in time for the Most Wonderful Time of the Year. How are we to get through this with Perfect Propriety? Of course Etiquetteer believes there is still a place for Perfect Propriety, in both our daily and national lives. We need to make a stand for the things we love, don’t we? Etiquetteer still believes good manners have a place. Presumably you do, too, or you wouldn’t be reading this.

Now we all know that politics is one of the Forbidden Topics at a dinner*. And we all know people who just breeze by that taboo and babble or rant away, absolutely not caring who they make uncomfortable. (Some of them even count on it — sadists.) For those who have suffered in silence for many years, this may be the time to send regrets instead and make other plans. And . . . it may not. Psychotherapist Jonathan Alpert makes the case for accepting the invitation anyway here.

Etiquetteer wrote in a recent column on Civic Pride that “we ourselves need to model the behavior we most want to see.” So if Kindness and Courtesy have a value for you (and Etiquetteer thinks they should), you should decline invitations kindly. That doesn’t mean you have to be dishonest. “It’s kind of you to invite me again, but I don’t want to risk any political discussion this year, and that always seems to come up. Thanks for understanding.”

If someone declines your Thanksgiving invitation, of course you may express your disappointment, but don’t coerce them into coming. A simple “You will be missed, you know, and the door is always open to you if you change your mind” is as far as you need to go. And on the day you need to control the table talk kindly but firmly. “We’re not going to talk about that today,” and then change the subject to something more neutral.

Etiquetteer wishes you a truly Happy Thanksgiving with congenial companions.

*The others are, in random order: sex, money, religion, personal appearance, and complaints about the food.

Grooming Your Romantic Partner, Vol. 23, Issue 63

Dear Etiquetteer:

I’ve been seeing a wonderful man for going on two months, and I’m pretty crazy about him. My biggest hesitancy with introducing him to more of my friends and eventually Mother (yikes!) is some grooming choices. Namely, he needs to trim his eyebrows and his nose hairs. He has a beautiful beard, which is why I assume he hasn’t noticed the need for a trim elsewhere on his face. I’ve stayed silent, not wanting to come across as controlling, but it’s bothering me. I keep thinking about the former Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams, with his out-of-control eyebrows, which the world wanted to attack with shears but which his wife described as adorable. Is there a proper way to ask him to trim? Should I surprise him with a spa day and have the aesthetician break the news of the need for a trim? Should I stay silent?

Dear Beloved:

Etiquetteer wants to say this as nicely as possible, but you do your friends and your mother a disservice when you think that their most enduring first impression of someone you describe as “a wonderful man” will be the condition of his nose and eyebrows. After all, if you’re still Mad About the Boy two months later, you see more of than those things, too, and did so begin with. So will they. Perhaps if your relationship goes so far that jewelry is exchanged you might mention something. Otherwise, keep mum.

The appearance of some men is defined by their bushy eyebrows — your Archbishop of Canterbury, for instance, Rasputin, and Albert Einstein — but they are in the minority. In general eyebrows should be trimmed whenever one visits the barber. Nose hair should never protrude outside the nostril, and should be trimmed with tweezers or those tiny scissors. Etiquetteer remembers hearing about those who burnt the hairs out of their nose with a match. Proceed at your peril, but don’t do it in the street and frighten the horses, regardless.

Your suggestion to let a professional solve the problem at a spa day is the perfect solution (for those who can afford it) as it allows a neutral third party to suggest a grooming plan for the future. And it turns out that is exactly what happened to Charlotte Vale in Olive Higgins Prouty’s novel Now, Voyager.* Charlotte’s makeover at a New York beauty parlor shocked even her sister-in-law Lisa, who arranged it. “‘I said nothing about eyebrows, Célestine. You know every well I never allow you to pluck mine. How did you ever come to do such a thing?’ ‘Because they were terra-ble, Madame. Not like yours. Verree thick and strong, like a man’s, and they meet in the middle and make her look always scowling. She say do anything I desire. It was no matter to her. Only in the middle did I pluck much. No one will know I pluck at all. I make her look so beautiful, n’est ce pas?’”** And indeed, she had.

Etiquetteer wishes you joyous introductions.

*Famous now only for the film version starring Bette Davis.

*Now, Voyager, by Olive Higgins Prouty (1941), page 18.

Civic Pride, Vol. 23, Issue 62

“Grief is a luxury one cannot afford if one intends to go on.” — the Dowager of Countess of Southwold, Upstairs, Downstairs

When words will not come, silence is often best. But even though the words don’t come easily several days after last week’s election results, Etiquetteer must make some attempt, not least because — oh, heavy irony! — today is National Civic Pride Day, created in 2022 “to inspire everyone to promote the dynamic* communities they live in.”

What does this mean after all the votes were counted? With no exemplars of Perfect Propriety visible in the incoming administration, it means that we ourselves need to model the behavior we most want to see where we live. That means more than being polite and attentive to cashiers and receptionists, navigating parking lots with care, and taking enough pride in one’s appearance to look clean and tidy in public. It means being well informed about local and national issues — which is to say, from more than one or two sources — and participating in local and neighborhood meetings. It means eye contact. It means placing a value on honesty, and ensuring that others share that value, too.

It means not bullying or taunting other people. Is a nation of men shouting “Your body, my choice” an example of civic pride? Etiquetteer thinks not. And this is only one example. Etiquetteer fears for the future.

In her first edition of Etiquette back in 1922, Emily Post Herself attempted to define what Best Society is**, and Etiquetteer is inspired by her words: “. . . Best Society is not a fellowship of the wealthy, nor does it seek to exclude those who are not of exalted birth; but it is an association of gentle-folk, of which good form in speech, charm of manner, knowledge of the social amenities, and instinctive consideration for the feelings of others [emphasis added] are the credentials by which society the world over recognizes its chosen members.” In other words, kindness as well as dignity, good manners — Perfect Propriety.

It’s on us to be the change we want to see in the world. Etiquetteer wishes you strength and courage as you consider how best to be that change where you are.

*Meaning “continuous and productive activity or change.”

**Not at all to be confused with the “Be Best” campaign of the late 2010s.

Wedding Gifts/Teatime, Vol. 23, Issue 61

Dear Etiquetteer:

My question involves the wedding of the son of some acquaintances of mine. We are not especially close but have sung together and I have known the boy almost from his birth. He had a very small wedding and few were invited from the family’s circle of friends. The family did an open house a couple of weeks prior. I attended briefly to congratulate the couple but did not attend the wedding or reception. I did not take anything as I truthfully wasn’t thinking about it (long story there) but noted some brought gifts and cards. Do I owe them a gift or at least a card congratulating them? I got a thank-you note that thanked me for a gift that I didn’t give so I feel a bit guilty.

Thanks for any help you can provide on these.

Dear Guest:

First off, there’s no reason for you to feel guilty, as you haven’t done anything wrong. The real quandary for Etiquetteer is, who gave the gift for which you were thanked in error? How will they feel at not being remembered by the Happy Couple? For that reason alone, you should write to the Happy Couple disclaiming anything to do with the gift in question, but wishing them Hearty Congratulations and Best Wishes for their married life. Assuming you all live in the same community, you could invite them to dinner at your home, either with your acquaintances the groom’s parents, or not.

The question of being owed a wedding gift always leaves Etiquetteer cold. As you were not invited to the wedding, send a gift if you feel moved to do so, but at least a card since you’ve actually met them. What you could do is file away the date of their wedding so that next year you can send a gift for their paper anniversary. Etiquetteer bets no one will else will think of that!

•••

Today marks the return to Standard Time, and with it the usual grousing from people who don’t like it getting pitch dark so early. For those who advocate for making Daylight Savings Time permanent, allow Etiquetteer to remind you that we tried that once before (in 1974) and it didn’t work. There’s no need to revisit a bad idea.

But we can also embrace this first night of early darkness with Light, Beauty, and of course Perfect Propriety. Etiquetteer proposes Teatime by Candlelight to greet the return of Standard Time. Instead of grumbling about the dark, get out your tapers or votives, get out your favorite china and silver, bake something you enjoy, and maybe invite a friend or two. Cocoon yourself in mellow candlelight (so flattering — lighting is the best skin care) with a piping hot pot of tea and a good book. What could be more Perfectly Proper?

Etiquetteer wishes you a glowing and tranquil evening.

Perfect Propriety at the Polls, Vol. 23, Issue 60

Yesterday Etiquetteer saw a captioned photo on the internet of a woman in a voting booth wearing only a brassiere and a pair of slacks. (Etiquetteer is not going to amplify this photo here, but you may find it on Bluesky here.) The caption said that this woman appeared at her polling place dressed in gear promoting her candidate, which in many states is actually illegal (more on that later). When told she could not vote so dressed, she violently cursed the poll workers and then removed the gear in question so that she could vote.

Now, this being the internet, Etiquetteer has not been able to verify whether this actually happened as presented. But Etiquetteer did discover that in 2020 a similar incident took place in New Hampshire — only without the bra! (Read Etiquetteer’s comments on that news story here.)

While Someone Prominent described the first woman as “a patriot” for stripping down to vote, Etiquetteer would respectfully suggest that it’s actually more patriotic to know the rules in advance. So, just what is and isn’t Perfectly Proper at the polls? Here are a few general guidelines; it’s your responsibility to research specifics for your state, because laws vary state by state.

First, and most important, do not abuse the poll workers. This means no profanity, no threats, no physical violence. Etiquetteer should not even have to say this. A great deal has already been said about voters being removed from the rolls in some states. If you arrive at the polls to be told that your name does not appear, shocking as that may be, that is still not an invitation to abuse the poll workers. Voters are entitled to provisional ballots; the ACLU provides instructions for what to do if this happens to you.

Do not wear anything advocating for (or against) a candidate, party, or position. This is defined as electioneering, which is when people “campaign to influence or persuade voters to vote for or against a particular candidate or party” according to Findlaw. Polling places are intended to be entirely free of campaign materials, and that includes clothing. This does not mean you can’t show your enthusiasm with your wardrobe. Dress in red, white, and blue, and wear your American flag pin. (Remember, no more than one lapel pin at a time!)

Respect the perimeter. Electioneering, which could be as simple as standing silently with a sign or distributing literature, is not permitted within a certain distance of the entrance of the polling place, in order to keep it a neutral environment. Generally it’s 100 feet.

Laws about photography in polling places vary from state to state, too, particularly around “ballot selfies,” photographs of one’s actual ballot then posted to social media. Some states, including New Hampshire, have passed specific laws against this. (More on this topic may be found at the National Conference on State Legislatures.) To discourage this, many states instead encourage photos of one’s “I Voted” sticker. Regardless, Etiquetteer would encourage you not to disrupt your polling place with your selfies, either by lingering too long in the voting booth or blocking the entrance while you take selfies.

Findlaw has a very helpful page on electioneering laws and election interference with specifics by state. Please review it now.

Whenever you vote, before or on Election Day, Etiquetteer wishes you a calm and smooth exercise of your rights without interference or intimidation.

Wedding Gifts, Vol. 23, Issue 59

Dear Etiquetteer:

I guess I’m showing my age. When you went to a wedding, you brought a wedding present. Much to my chagrin, at a recent wedding, my mother and myself were the only ones to bring a present. The “cool” thing to do is just give them money in their card. 

I find it to be impersonal, and once the money is spent you don’t have anything you can say “That was a present from my aunt.” When my husband and I got married, and had a reception about a month later, we said no gifts. But of course, we got several pairs of engraved champagne glasses. Every newlywed should receive those!

Dear Gifting:

Wedding presents have changed because a Happy Couple’s needs are no longer what they were. Starting roughly 50 years ago, the trend for couples to Live Together First means that they already have all the kitchen appliances and other domesticities often given as wedding gifts. Sadly, the dinner party is no longer the cornerstone of American social life; there goes all that beautiful china, silver, and crystal Etiquetteer loves so much. Finally, Brides Today can be so uppity about getting anything that looks like it might have belonged to their grandmothers. Etiquetteer trusts that this is Just a Phase, and in another ten years the trend will revert back to heirlooms.

Etiquetteer recognizes in you a kindred spirit by the way you use the sentence “That was a present from my aunt.” Heirlooms and “family pieces” lend so much special resonance to a household. They help tell our stories as part of our families, both birth and chosen. But there are ways and ways to deliver a sentence. “That was a present from my aunt” can convey derision as much as affection.

Etiquetteer’s Dear Mother (may she rest in peace), never disposed of a wedding gift whether she used it or not. (Etiquetteer remembers discovering only after her death a large and elaborate American eagle door knocker engraved with the family name. It was never used, but never disposed of.) And in C.S. Lewis’s The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Edmund and Lucy are looking at a painting in the back bedroom of their aunt’s house. “Aunt Alberta didn’t like it at all (that was why it was put away in a little back room upstairs), but she couldn’t get rid of it because it had been a wedding present from someone she did not want to offend.”

If you prefer to give a gift instead of cash, then by all means do so, considering in advance both the tastes of the Happy Couple and the condition of your wallet. But Dear Mother taught Etiquetteer that wedding gifts should never be brought to the wedding, but sent in advance to the home of the bride (or her parents). That way there’s less for someone to tote away from the site of the wedding banquet, which is generally not at someone’s home any more.

Etiquetteer wishes you joy in choosing wedding gifts that are received with joy and acknowledged promptly with handwritten Perfect Propriety.

White After Labor Day, Vol. 23, Issue 58

Dear Etiquetteer:

In your article, you didn’t really address the issue [of wearing white after Labor Day] other than tradition. Would you agree that the rule applies to more northern locales, e.g. New England vs. Southern California? For instance, it’s still 100 degrees where I live. I believe it’s just a reminder to shift your dress as the weather changes. I usually have to wait almost until Halloween to shed my summer clothes! Dreadful.

Dear California Girl:

You’re right, the No White After Labor Day rule really functions best as a seasonal marker to rotate one’s wardrobe. It’s really just Etiquetteer and Miss Manners Herself holding out for the traditional Retiring of the White on Labor Day. Almost every other etiquette expert (or menswear influencer) will tell you it’s a silly rule that no longer applies — but Etiquetteer still considers it a Charming Anachronism. But climate change is beginning to trump the quaintness of that rule; as you note, triple digit temperatures at Halloween are not Sweater Weather! Etiquetteer was quite surprised to discover that seersucker is not bound by the change of seasons but by local temperature. For practical purposes, summer whites should follow that guideline, too. Whether North or South, let local weather direct your use of summer whites. (Etiquetteer will still say that white shoes should be put away on Labor Day.)

You may wish to incorporate more seersucker into your wardrobe instead; it comes in a galaxy of pastels now, not just white or blue. Or adopt the Carol Channing All-White Wardrobe and just wear all white all the time all year long. (It would certainly make an impression, especially on your dry cleaner.)

Etiquetteer wishes you temperate days for comfortable and Perfectly Proper clothes.

Extra-Wedding Dinners, Vol. 23, Issue 57

Dear Etiquetteer:

I have another etiquette question. Who else to write besides Miss Manners?

My husband and I are jetting to [Insert Faraway City Here] to attend our niece’s wedding. We will be there for three days not including travel days.

My former sister-in-law’s family is flying over from [Insert Country Here]. We spent a week with them several years ago. We all get along except when it comes to dining out. Some are vegetarians, some only eat fish. It turns into a [Insert Profanity Here]!

Instead of dealing with that again, we made dinner reservations for two of the nights we’re there. My ex sister-in-law (who we love), said my niece and her family could be available for dinner. I replied that we have dinner reservations but we’re open for breakfast or lunch. Did I do something wrong with not inviting them for dinner? It’s like rounding up cats. You can’t please everyone and I wanted to avoid the situation.

What’s your thought? Am I a selfish [Insert Expletive Here]? I kinda feel like I am. But I also don’t want to get caught up in a restaurant struggle with who can eat this and who can’t. I got the short end of the stick last time, which is why I’m not getting sucked into that situation again.

Would respect your opinion on the matter.

Dear Wedding Guest:

Your query made Etiquetteer reflect on how weddings bring together people who generally never see each other again. In the late 1980s Etiquetteer was invited to a wedding out of state as a plus one of a colleague who was a cousin of either the bride or the groom. The wedding was memorable for someone’s grandfather spitting into Etiquetteer’s coffee cup*. Etiquetteer never saw any of those people again. But that’s no excuse to let down your Perfect Propriety.

Making your own plans outside the official wedding schedule is not a violation of etiquette. You could really describe it as Self Care. If your sister-in-law insisted, you could very politely agree to attend as long as you didn’t have to be involved in the arrangements. “It would be great for us not to be involved in the planning, so if you let us know when and where to be, we’ll show up on time.”

But it would be a very different thing if you were to cut a wedding function to which you’d been invited by the Happy Couple or their parents, such as the rehearsal dinner, reception, morning after breakfast . . . or the wedding itself. (It’s not unheard of, but it is Not Perfectly Proper. You earn access to the open bar by sitting through the service.) That’s a no-no.

Etiquetteer wishes you and your husband guilt-free dinners during Wedding Week, and happy engaging conversations with all the other guests.

*Is this really why plus ones are invited to weddings, to insulate family members from other family members? Frankly, it calls into question the entire practice of inviting plus ones.

Beach Etiquette, Vol. 23, Issue 56

Etiquetteer recently asked readers on Instagram what bothered them about the beach. Not everyone enjoys the beach in the same way*: some come to let go, others to let loose. Can good manners help us through? Here’s what readers brought up:

Children: Of course children are not going to sit quietly building sand castles or picking up pretty pebbles. There will be shrieking and shouting and running about after a ball. Use that knowledge to spread your towel where children are less likely to be. (Generally that means further from the entrance and the facilities.) When children accidentally invade your space (for instance, running over your towel during a game) you have the right to protest. But please be kind, too; Etiquetteer is sure they didn’t mean to. If the behavior continues, though, you need to tell the Responsible Adults.

Noise: Sometimes there’s that one voice that cuts through the surf. (And sometimes that voice is Etiquetteer’s . . . 😬.) This might be audacious, but you could offer an Unsolicited Opinion on their conversation, such as “You know I couldn’t help overhearing what you said, and I must disagree. Let me explain . . .” “Hey, they is a private conversation!” “Indeed? Then you should have it in a private place so no one else can hear it.” Etiquetteer does not guarantee success with this approach, but it will certainly make the point that the beach is not one’s private parlor.

Loud Music/Radios: One reader said “Other people’s music. It’s never Cole Porter or Ravel.” But that needn’t stop you from either blasting original cast recordings yourself or handing out lyric sheets for a surfside Kiss Me, Kate! sing-along. Etiquetteer offered a couple suggestions last year.

Expired Sunscreen: So easy to check before you leave the house, dahling. But always bring a coverup, just in case.

One thing no one mentioned was pets, specifically unattended pets galloping over your towel, or even trying to move in. Leash laws still apply. Pet owners, supervise your pets!

One last thing: don’t stare at other beachgoers, it’s rude.

Etiquetteer wishes you a beautiful and Perfectly Proper day at the beach, whether that’s frolicking in the surf, or in the shadiest corner of the cabana.

*Indeed, some readers do not enjoy the beach at all.

Inappropriate Dance Floor Behavior, Vol. 23, Issue 55

“Certain nuances escape Beaufort.” — Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence

Dear Etiquetteer:

Last night, I attended a masked ball gala with a live swing band. One of my dance partners started out fun, but quickly became presumptuous. He kissed my hand after our first dance. He asked to see my unmasked face, so I briefly pulled the mask up on my forehead. But then he repeatedly insisted that I should take it off and leave it off. I kept saying “No;” he kept begging and wheedling me. He seemed not to understand the subtext, that I was interested in dancing but not in further intimacy — after several minutes of arguing about my mask, he kissed his own fingers and laid them on my cheek!

Finally I said I did not wish to dance with him again, and also told him “When you won’t take No as an answer from a woman, even about something minor, it makes her feel like you’re not safe to be around.”

I believe what I said is true, and could even be helpful to him in future if he takes the lesson to heart — but I also know it was very blunt and perhaps verging on rudeness. What is the proper way to respond to a dance partner who commits such violations of propriety himself?

Dear “A Swing Dancer, Not a Swinger:”

You behaved with Perfect Propriety as well as a certain amount of forbearance. While the presence of masks traditionally encourages unbridled freedom — think of Carnival in Venice — “No means No” is more generally accepted as a Stern Warning than a Clandestine Invitation now, or should be. Etiquetteer cannot fault your behavior at all. In fact, you updated “Sir, you are no gentleman” for this century. It is so often the impulse of those who are being harrassed to get out of the situation gracefully. But with an aggressor who Just Does Not Get It, complete candor as you expressed it is sometimes necessary. Etiquetteer salutes you.

There is so much to unpack here, from notions of gallantry and flirtation to forgotten ballroom manners. To begin with, and Etiquetteer cannot remember who said it first, introducing strangers to dance does not constitute a social introduction. In other words, just because you’ve shared one dance at a ball doesn’t mean you can slide into each other’s DMs. Second, the whole point of a masked ball is to remain masked until the time of unmasking. That used to be midnight, and if 21st-century maskers just can’t stand one more minute and remove their masks ten minutes after arrival . . . well, Etiquetteer thinks that’s Letting Down the Side but must perforce accept it.

So you were within your rights to remain masked when your Importunate Partner asked to see your face. Antique fiction has given us a picture of ladies fending off the “begging and wheedling” of Importunate Gentlemen with smiles and laughter and sly glances, and perhaps a gentle rapping with her fan. But that dainty picture is based on two things: a lady’s true desire to encourage the gentleman, and a gentleman’s awareness that he really Must Not Go Too Far. In this century, those illusions have disappeared. That mask has been removed.

The hand kiss — outside certain diplomatic or religious rituals and the city of Vienna — has become entirely artificial and insincere, a gesture of mock manners, of “aping our betters.” It’s often risky to turn to the movies for examples of Perfect Propriety*, but if you’re going to do that it’s better to imitate Anton Walbrook in The Red Shoes than Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic. For your Importunate Partner to kiss your hand after a first dance is forward.

More seriously, the real mask that’s been removed is that women no longer need to tolerate unwelcome attention because it might reflect badly on them. The days when English novelist Arnold Bennett could say “Make love to every woman you meet. If you get five percent on your outlay it’s a good investment” are over. And so are the days when it could be assumed that all relationships were male-female and that the aggressor would be male.

Not long ago Etiquetteer was watching Jennie, Lady Randolph Churchill, who was given a stinging riposte by screenwriter Julian Mitchell. Being preyed on by a dancing partner at a masked ball, Jennie (played by Lee Remick), pulled away and said “I don’t know what class of woman you normally consort with, Lord Hardwick, but, I’m afraid your experience with them can be of no use to you at all with me.” Powerful words . . . but did they achieve the desired effect?

Etiquetteer wishes you many happy nights of dancing with talented and respectful partners.

*And yet that never seems to stop Etiquetteer . . . 🧐.

No White After Labor Day: The Rule We Love to Break, Vol. 23, Issue 54

“Any fool can make a rule//And any fool will mind it.” — Henry David Thoreau

“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” — Ecclesiastes 3:1

Etiquetteer is weary. As someone somewhere once said, “Can’t we put aside this stale old quarrel?”

People love taking sides on issues that will not topple governments. The Oxford comma, for instance, and decorative schemes for White House interiors come to mind — not to mention the pitched battle between Bette Davis and Joan Crawford partisans.* In that vein, people love to defy the traditional rule that white is not worn after Labor Day, and to call attention to their defiance with malicious glee.

Etiquetteer loves tradition, as you know. Monday night saw the annual storing of the white bucks, which passed off without incident. And on Tuesday morning from every corner of social media came the annual posts of Beverly Sutphin assaulting Juror #8 in Serial Mom,** mostly from people who otherwise pay no attention to their shoes. You know it well, even if you haven’t seen the movie.

“Fashion has changed!” cries Juror #8. She’s not wrong; fashion changes by definition and with the desire for novelty. Beverly Sutphin has mistaken Fashion for both Tradition and Style. Etiquetteer can hardly blame her for lashing out.

But you know — Etiquetteer is just done with the violence. Yes, it used to be funny. Maybe it just hits differently this year. Traditionalists and Those Who Simply Don’t Care must form a truce. Other, more pressing issues claim our attention, especially in this election year. Now run along and enjoy your pumpkin spice latte — while it’s in season.

Etiquetteer is weary as far back as 2014.

*Etiquetteer will leave the Oxford comma debate to the grammarians, continue to advocate for the return of a Blue Room that is actually blue, and — as much as he loves both those actresses — will retreat to the corner with Olivia de Haviland while their insane acolytes flame each other.

**How can it be that this movie premiered 30 years ago?!

Altered Appearances, Vol. 23, Issue 53

“Let people tell you if they choose. Only vulgar people probe.” — Joan Tetzel in The Paradine Case

Dear Etiquetteer:

I recently had lunch with a dear friend whom I had not seen in over twenty years. I had trouble recognizing her because of her plastic surgery. I did my best to hide my wild surmise, but it was a bit difficult to remain composed since every time I looked in her direction diplomacy was brought to the brink by botox. Here, a response to “You haven’t changed a bit!” became a verbal tightrope. Otherwise, it was a joyful reunion, but have you any advice for those of us who are ambushed by a friend’s redefined features?

Dear Startled:

Etiquetteer is not quite sure where to begin, with your concern not to embarrass your friend, your masking of your surprise, or your disapproval of plastic surgery (or at least of its results in this particular case.) Vanity isn’t the only reason for plastic surgery; please think kindly about your friend’s motivations.

There are so many ways not to recognize someone you haven’t seen in many years, not just surgery: Time (it marches across all our faces), a new hairstyle, tattoos — shucks, seeing someone out of context! Yes, it can feel embarrassing. Why not lean into that? “Gosh, it’s been such a long time I hardly know what to say!” Let that buy you time to dredge up some happy memories you can share.

“You haven’t changed a bit!” is one of those standard phrases like “How do you do?” that helps oil the machine of Social Conversation. We hear it at both family and class reunions, not to mention weddings. There’s no need to respond in kind. Rather than refer to your friend’s appearance at all, just say “Thank you” or “It’s a joy to see you, too” and change the subject to absent friends, a shared past experience, or the lunch menu. Had your friend brought up the topic directly — “And what do you think of my new face?” — only compliments are appropriate.

In the end, Igor’s advice in Young Frankenstein remains the best: “Say nothing, act casual.”

Etiquetteer wishes you many happy reunions and the presence of mind to enjoy old acquaintances as you find them.