Pandemic Politeness, Technology: Vol. 19, Issue 23

Dear Etiquetteer:

How should I request a Zoom meetup with friends? Not all are open to it. Several have simply ignored my request. I miss “seeing” my friends!

Dear Attempting:

Rather than make a first request via Zoom (or Facetime, or another videoconferencing technology), Etiquetteer suggests that you ask during a good old-fashioned phone call. “Darling,” you could say, “I would so love to get a look at you. Couldn’t we have a video call sometime? I’ve enjoyed this so much with [Insert Names of Mutual Friends Here].” You will then find out if your friend doesn’t like videoconferencing in general, Zoom in particular, or you.

No, Etiquetteer didn’t mean that. Of course your friends like you. But not everyone likes technology in the same way, or the same technologies. And some people are also very reluctant to ask tech questions in a group chat or invitation; they might feel ashamed for not knowing already. So go one on one, voice to voice with each friend, and your acceptance rate is likely to increase a great deal.

Dear Etiquetteer:

What is the polite way to hold tele-meetings of equals?

Dear Meeting:

The Declaration of Independence says that we are all created equal, but perhaps you are differentiating between a video call with friends and meetings of boards or committees that include directors and staff? If so, Etiquetteer sees no reason to conduct them differently from in-person meetings in which committee members have speaking privileges and staff members are auditors. Everyone would still appear “equal” on a video screen. There’s no way to alter the size of an individual’s window by rank, nor should there be.

For a video call with friends, someone who either takes the initiative or is designated as “in charge” initiates the call, and all the participants should be prepared to dial in promptly on schedule. In a perfect world, everyone would be responsible for understanding the technology . . . but then if this were a perfect world, we wouldn’t be suffering through this raging coronavirus pandemic, now would we? Participants will need help and Patience must be exercised by all through any difficulties (which are not always caused by user error).

But perhaps when you say “equals” you mean people who are allotted equal amounts of speaking time? In that case, among friends, whoever has organized the call has the ability to say “All right [Insert Name of Gasbag Here], let’s hear what someone else has to say on the subject. You’ve gone on long enough.” That keeps the call from becoming a monologue. Being a sergeant-at-arms on a video call is a bit challenging, but it’s a valuable skill to have.

Dear Etiquetteer:

I have been invited to join a videoconference using a new video platform that I haven’t used yet and don’t want to. I’ve had quite enough trouble learning Facetime and Zoom, and I resent having to explore yet another thing that I will not have to use again. I’ve suggested using a more universal platform that we’re all familiar with and been rebuffed for reasons which I don’t think are sufficient for a change to be made. What should I do, Etiquetteer? Bow out, or suck it up?

Dear Stubborn:

First, let’s acknowledge your frustration with technology, which never really seems intuitive to anyone but the people who Know That Sort of Thing. “It’s fun to learn new things!” is the standard wisdom, but you sound like you might prefer learning new things that you find interesting - which is not technology. Etiquetteer agrees. But this is wartime. We are at war against the coronavirus. And in wartime we have to use our skills differently. The Latin motto of the MIT Class of 1944 was In alterno proficiens, which (Etiquetteer hopes) means “in alternate professions.” [Readers of Latin, kindly respond with a correct translation.] Whether we like it or not, we have to adapt our talents to the times.

Since advocacy for your Preferred Platform has failed, you do indeed have two choices: declining to participate, or participating using the designated platform. And that incorporates a choice, too. You can participate with Perfect Propriety, or you can participate by complaining loudly and publicly at length about the choices the host made. If that’s what you prefer, better for you to absent yourself. Nobody wants to hear that, and it will only make you look bad.

Decide how valuable being a part of this call is for you. If it’s just social, or mostly social, couldn’t you catch up with people independently? If it’s business, you may have to suck it up, Buttercup. Etiquetteer would allow you to back out if you, as a participant and not the host, had to buy anything to participate, like new equipment; that seems excessive. But this doesn’t sound like that sort of situation.

Etiquetteer will conclude with that deliciously ambiguous toast from Kind Hearts and Coronets, “Best wishes for a successful outcome!”

Sixth Dress Dinner Challenge Recap, May 2, 2020

The pandemic quarantine continues, and so, then, does Dress Dinner Challenge!

As usual, the menu in formal-dinner French:

Cocktail d’aviation Celeri coupé Amandes

Salade vert

Tajine au poulet

Gâteau de l'épicerie avec confiture de mimosa, crème artificielle

The confluence of May Day, World Naked Gardening Day, and sunny and temperate weather gave the evening a floral theme. Happily the weekly bow tie voting favored a William Morris-style print from Beau Ties Ltd. which it was easy to pair with a flesh-pink shirt.

Look at that pudgy tummy! No wonder there was no cheese and crackers on the cocktail tray this weekend . . . it’s worth noting that while this photograph was taken, the back of the chair was actively breaking . . .

The weather demanded that the cocktail hour move al fresco, which meant digging out a few extra accessories. It’s astonishing what you find ferreting through little-used cubbyholes, like that vaguely floral tablecloth. The tiny vase of baby’s breath, however, is really my favorite detail. And that aviation cocktail, with its distinctive creme de violette - the perfect flowery beginning.

This weekend the menu came together a bit haphazardly. Prowling the supermarket aisles (while also practicing social distancing*), disappointed at an absence of lavender and thinking of rosewater too late, I made the happy discovery of a jar of mimosa jam. It turned out to be a delicate, satisfying topping to a couple slices of a popular name brand pound cake. Now you might say, “Well! That’s not very fancy!” and get uppity about serving something store-bought. To which I can only respond that a) a lady was never supposed to have cooked everything on her table, and b) comfort food is important during this pandemic quarantine, and that pound cake brought me right back to my granny’s avocado green refrigerator with ice dispenser, and what could be better than that?

The main course was my first attempt at tagine. I had thought I’d poach a piece of salmon again, but some overseas friends rather insistently suggested I try a tagine. I managed this recipe from the internet with ingredients I already had in the house. That meant going without carrots and making several substitutions: capers for olives, nutmeg for ginger, black pepper for cayenne pepper. It looked like a dog’s dinner on the plate, but I assure you it tasted savory and delicious. And in my deep involvement in the recipe, I completely forgot to boil up some rice (which would have substituted for the more traditional couscous). For a spontaneous decision, it worked out all right.

It does look like a dog’s dinner, but it truly was tasty.

Dinner concluded with a digéstif from the Czech Republic, Becherovka, an herbal liqueur that aids digestion. At a true formal dinner liqueurs are served in the drawing room, but since it’s just me, I tend to remain at table.

Lastly, I was so very happy with my table. Rummaging through the house I found an old fragment of ivy-printed fabric that made a thematic table runner, and also a pair of green tapers. A low green vase filled with my favorite orange roses added appropriate contrast - and I love orange roses!

And so another dress dinner challenge comes to an end! Perhaps you’ll join me next week?

*I think people who love 3D chess must love social distancing because it’s all about how one moves around shifting obstacles in space. Whereas I can barely manage checkers . . .

Pandemic Politeness: Funerals and Other People, Vol. 19, Issue 22

Etiquetteer’s survey of post-pandemic Perfect Propriety (which is still open) has yielded some interesting queries.

FUNERALS AND GRIEVING

Dear Etiquetteer:

I work at a church. Our doors are locked to everyone -- even during a funeral. Funerals are now to be only attended by immediate family and friends, up to ten people. Funeral homes and churches are not to publish the date or time of the service. How can we best let our communities know that they will not have access to indoor plumbing while they are on church property?

Dear Directing:

By communicating as directly as you’ve just done in this query. Put a sign on each entrance that reads “We regret deeply that restrooms must be closed to everyone attending services.” As you and others are working with family members of the deceased, be sure to communicate this to them in advance, along with your regret. With restrooms unavailable, please do make an effort to have hand sanitizer available to all. The urge to wash one’s hands during this crisis is almost as great as other Bodily Urges.

Etiquetteer salutes you, and workers in houses of worship everywhere, for continuing to minister to your congregations during this crisis.

Dear Etiquetteer:

How can we grieve or pay our respects in a time of no calling hours/wake/funeral.

Dear Grieving:

When someone we know dies, it is natural to want to come together as a family, as a network of friends, as a community of faith, to honor the memory of the deceased and to grieve together. While not wishing grief and pain on others, there is comfort in knowing that others share one’s feelings. The ancient and comfortable funeral customs that brings groups together are now dangerous and must be curtailed (more on that later).

But what has not been stopped and is not a danger to anyone’s health is another old custom, the letter of condolence. People are often afraid to write a letter because they’re afraid they won’t know what to say, and that what they do think of to say isn’t original enough. Don’t be afraid; Etiquetteer is here to help! Etiquetteer has written extensively about condolence correspondence (here’s a good column from Volume 16, and here’s something from Volume 14) and can testify to the value of having those letters to reread later. Letter writing may bring closure to you, as a mourner, and it is very helpful to the recipient(s).

Videoconferencing is taking the place of everything now, too, so you might end up getting invited to a Zoom funeral or memorial service. (Be sure your device is muted!) You might also create a Zoom call for your own circle of mutual acquaintances to share memories of the deceased.

OTHER PEOPLE

Dear Etiquetteer:

How can we deal with people who challenge those of us who are rigorously following health guidelines? How do we deal with the herd mentality about surrendering all personal freedom?

Dear Dealing:

Two very important questions. First, your health and safety are important and have value. If there are people around you criticizing or mocking your efforts to stay safe - for instance, wearing a mask or actively keeping six feet between you and everyone else - don’t apologize, and don’t interact. That’s easier with strangers at the supermarket, where you can shop on another aisle, than it is with someone you live with.

But say someone you live with is disrespecting your choices. We have been told to act as though we were contagious and want to avoid infecting anyone else. Remind them of this, and that this is an expression of your love and concern for them. And what does their mockery of you and your concern say about them as people? Their behavior is the problem, not yours. Let them know that.

It’s more challenging to talk about the herd mentality, but Etiquetteer is deeply frustrated with American communities citing Religious Liberty as an excuse to endanger health and safety by continuing to hold church services and large funerals. Everyone knows Etiquetteer’s love of precedent. The precedent here is the 1918 pandemic example set by St. Louis and Philadelphia. Long story short, Philadelphia refused to cancel a big parade while St. Louis shut down all public gatherings - all. Philadelphia’s death rate was something like double that of St. Louis’s. And this article details times at which the Catholic Church closed due to plague. What more evidence is needed? Staying home is Perfectly Proper. Encouraging disobedience, especially disguised as Freedom of Religion . . . Etiquetteer has no words.

But Etiquetteer has another precedent. Few seem to remember the 1979 outbreak of polio among the Pennsylvania Amish community*, but Etiquetteer never forgot the phrase “We don’t wish to harm our English** neighbors.” And an internet search reveals the full quote from an Amish leader: “We will take the vaccine. We don’t wish to harm our English neighbors.” For a religious community distinguished by its isolation from modern life, what an act of generosity is this, to go against community custom to take a vaccine to prevent harm to others outside that community.

Contrast this attitude with that of the Ohio woman who steadfastly refused to alter her behavior because “I’m covered in Jesus’ blood.” Well, she might be, but she can’t assume that everyone with whom she comes into contact with. Etiquetteer agrees with Ohio governor Mike DeWine (quoted in the same article): "Any pastor who who brings people together, in close proximity to each other, a large group of people, is making a huge mistake. It’s not a Christian thing to do.”

Etiquetteer exhorts you all to stay home, and to encourage others to do so as well.

*By the way, Etiquetteer is not a student of this particular outbreak, and is not assuming that everyone in the Amish community took the vaccine.

**The Amish community uses the term English for everyone outside the the Amish community.

Fifth Dress Dinner Challeng Recap, April 25, 2020

Etiquetteer wanted a lighter menu for this Saturday night’s Dress Dinner Challenge, which meant finding a lighter beverage than the usual manhattan cocktail. This resulted in Etiquetteer enjoying an entire bottle of Moet et Chandon Impérial, which somehow ended up on the wine rack and was the only white wine in the house. Once a bottle of champagne has been opened, it must be consumed. It just doesn’t keep for a few days afterward!

When only one wine is served with dinner, it’s not necessary to have any additional glasses.

So, the menu:

Cheddar et craquelins

Salade d'épinards et de chou frisé

Sauté de poulet au citron

Riz brun Épinards cuits à la vapeur

Framboises et Jello d’orange à la crème d’artifice

Steamed spinach, lemon chicken sauté, brown rice. I never paid so much attention to plating before I started this project.

Like many diners out (I do miss going to restaurants!), I have been forced to experiment in the kitchen with new recipes. This time I discovered a (necessarily) very simple dish for sautéed chicken with shallots, lemon juice, and marjoram, sprinkled with lemon zest. Yes, spinach shows up twice on the menu; not really a good idea, but I just wasn’t paying attention when I picked up that box of salad.

Jello is such a basic American dessert, and it can be dressed up in any number of ways. Dear Grandmother’s hobnail glassware always helps, and raspberries improve anything. But have you guessed what’s missing in that photo above? No, it isn’t the spoon, or the napkin, or even a wineglass. For a Perfectly Proper dessert presentation with a glass on top of a plate, there should be a small doily under the glass, to keep it from slipping while in transit. My beloved Ellen Maury Slayden, Congressional wife and diarist, had to keep a Senator from eating one with his ice cream at one of her dinners. She recorded that he never forgave her.

It’s become a feature of Dress Dinner Challenge for Etiquetteer readers to vote on a bow tie a couple days in advance. This weekend two selections tied - no pun intended! - for first. As you see, I chose a bold paisley that pops with a pale purple shirt; the violets on sky blue will have to wait for another dinner. But this led to a very interesting question from an Instagram reader: why not change ties between courses? Which led another reader to question whether or not that would really be Perfectly Proper at a dinner party. Of course the correct answer is that changing clothes between courses isn’t really correct*. This exchange did remind me, though, of Cecil Beaton’s story about a society showoff in his charming book The Glass of Fashion, a lady at a banquet who kept inventing excuses to go upstairs and change her dress. “Oh, a cigarette burn!” was succeeded by “Oh, a speck of ice cream!” etc. You get the idea. Quite the fashion parade, but . . . not a good look.

Socially the evening was quite busy, having been invited to a Zoom “Gin Room” for the cocktail hour, and dined with a friend via Facetime. And course it’s necessary to tune into Jon Richardson’s Virtual Piano Bar after the table has been cleared!

The price of all that champagne Saturday night is a sinkful of dishes to wash on Sunday. But I have to say, it was worth it. I look forward to dining with you again next Saturday!

*The “Let me slip into something more comfortable” line is best used at, shall we say, intimate little dinners of no more than two, or possibly three, consenting adults.

Pandemic Politeness: Shopping and Other Issues, Vol. 19, Issue 21

Dear Etiquetteer:

I do hope you can cast some independent judgment/advice on this matter. Like many other city dwellers during this pandemic who are lucky enough to have weekend homes and who are now staying away from the epicenter, we have been staying full time at our house in upstate New York. There is much less density here and it feels safer. We are able to shop (with masks and gloves) without coming within six feet of others, with a few exceptions. But this question is not about social distancing.

We shopped in our local [Insert Name of Big Box Store Here] this morning. As we were checking out we overheard one employee complaining to another about the "Citiots and queers." It was infuriating, we could have complained, perhaps she would have lost her job, surely that would be a fireable offense, but what would that accomplish? We debated various courses of action and in the end did nothing. Sorry to say it but we see a lot of [Insert Pejorative Term Here] up here, everyone is a human being after all, but we ultimately agreed that more than anything else we just felt sorry for her. And what good would it do to point out to her that if not for the "citiots and queers” she wouldn't have a job at all.

To top it off, also this morning, in [Insert Name of Supermarket Chain Here] we heard another employee complaining about all the out-of-state license plates in the parking lot. (At least we have in-state plates!) Should we have told the store manager what we heard without identifying the employee? Should we have confronted her on the spot? Still feeling unsettled by such hatred and prejudice.

Hoping to hear from you, all best.

Dear Overhearing:

Us vs. Them complaints have always been with us, but they take on an added edge in the Time of the Coronavirus. Reading your letter, Etiquetteer couldn’t help but remember how Tippi Hedren, who came “from away,” was attacked as evil by a local in Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds.

Etiquetteer’s Dear Mother used to say “Least said, soonest mended,” still Good Sound Advice. And it’s rarely a good idea to respond in Anger. That’s especially important now when everyone - everyone without exception - feels threatened by something they cannot control. It was discreet of you to keep silent, since you plan to continue shopping at these locations. As you say, you have no wish to see this person fired. What you really want is not to feel unwelcome in a place that has become a safe haven for you.

Still, service personnel should remember that complaints about customers should take place away from the customers. Etiquetteer actually received a similar question from a restaurant patron who overheard two waitresses complaining about other diners. Store managers, take note!

Moving forward, what’s the best way for you to interact with these individuals, and what should you do if you overhear similar remarks again? Etiquetteer encourages you to be especially polite and thoughtful the next time you check out. You don’t have to ooze over with Sugary Insincerity - people see through that anyway - but ask how that person is holding up under the strain and thank them for keeping the nation running. Forge a connection. If you hear more complaints, continue to keep quiet. But if someone complains directly to you about “citiots and queers” or other pejoratives about seasonal residents, you may respond, calmly, with “This is a time when everyone needs to feel safe, no matter where they’re from. I keep remembering that we’re all in this together, no matter what.”

Nathaniel Hawthorne used the expression “the chain of human sympathies” in a ghost story set during a smallpox epidemic. For Etiquetteer, it best captures our current predicament. We have never been “all in this together” more than we are now.

Dear Etiquetteer:

How can I graciously advise grocery store shoppers that they are walking in the wrong direction down the aisles? Aisles now have directional arrows. I observed one woman trying to advise another that she was traveling the wrong direction. That elicited a heated "Geez, what are you, the [Insert Profanity Here] aisle police?"

Dear Shopping:

Sartre was right, wasn’t he? Hell is other people!

Etiquetteer can’t see anything wrong with “Excuse me, but you may not have noticed the store added directional arrows to each aisle. You’re going the wrong way.” But no matter how graciously you may advise, there may not be a way to avoid an outburst like that.

No one likes to be called out in public, especially for something they didn’t even suspect. Your query emphasizes that The Rules have changed for everyone, and that they’re going to keep changing. It’s tough to keep up! Etiquetteer Himself, trundling through the supermarket two weeks ago, remained blithely unaware of arrows on the floor until nearly at the checkout line - and then felt a Superb Fool for not noticing.

We’re all going to have to get a lot more comfortable with having our behavior questioned by strangers in public, and with questioning the behavior of others to protect our health. How, then, should you respond when someone sounds off like that? You certainly don’t want to be part of some hair-pulling fistfight, so escalating it with a Snappy Comeback like “Yes, and you’re under arrest, you witch!” is out of the question. Dignified Silence works, as does “I don’t make the rules here, just look at the arrows next time.” And then leave that aisle and continue shopping elsewhere in the store. Readers, what do you think? Please drop Etiquetteer a line with your own thoughts and questions about Coronavirus Grocery Shopping.

Etiquetteer will now sound off about a Supermarket Pet Peeve: shoppers who stand in the way. There’s the shopper who stands exactly where that One Item is for five minutes* reading the fine print on the label. And there’s the shopper who stands in an intersection texting indefinitely. Now Etiquetteer does sympathize with those whose medical needs require them to be super vigilant about ingredients; reading the labels is important. But there are limits. Other people need to get to the coffee, too, and it’s no longer possible to reach onto the shelves with you standing there. In both cases, a brisk “Excuse me please” should be sufficient. Adding “Will you be long?” verges on the Unnecessarily Sarcastic.

*Yes, five minutes!

Perfect Propriety of the Future, Vol. 19, Issue 20

Once the pandemic is over (will it ever be over?), once quarantine, lockdown, social distance, all of the above get lifted, Etiquetteer believes our collective behavior will change permanently. But how? Here are some predictions and suggestions. And here’s a link to a quick four-question survey so you can share your opinions, too.

The face mask is here to stay, at least for the foreseeable future. Who knows when, if ever, we’ll be able to go out in public without face masks. Some sources say we’ll need to wear masks until a coronavirus vaccine is successfully launched, which could take at least a year. As of this week, seven states require masks to be worn in public; that number will grow. But even after a vaccine, there will be fellow citizens anxious about exposure who will continue to wear masks in public. Etiquetteer supports this, and we as a society need to be prepared to create a non-judgmental space for those who choose to do so.

Questions will come up about how utilitarian or frivolous masks should be. Indeed, those questions are already being raised. Should they equalize all classes, or should they be used as badges of individuality? Etiquetteer is inclined to go with the latter, but worries about ostentatious “luxury” masks coming into vogue among Those With Excess Income. The necessity of everyone having to wear a mask in public should unite us, not highlight our economic differences. That said, everyone having to wear surgical blue makes us too anonymous. Here we might take our cues from late 18th-century Venice, when everyone wore masks for its perpetual Carnival. Etiquetteer vaguely remembers from a book about Casanova his arrangement of an assignation with a young woman “whose mask had a red rosebud painted under the right eye,” or something like that. Let’s make our masks a stamp of who we are, but without luxury branding or ostentatious detailing.

How we greet each other is changing. The handshake is on its last legs. Etiquetteer has never liked hearing the phrase “I don’t shake hands,” but Those Who Don’t Shake are on the ascendant as we learn more about human-to-human transmission of the coronavirus. Once we’re all allowed to meet in public again, will we start shaking hands? Etiquetteer thinks not, and let’s hope Los Angeles has given up on the unsustainable nonsense of the “L.A. Hug.” But what will we do instead? Bow from the waist? Nod graciously? Give the Vulcan salute? The namaste greeting? Long distance fist bump? Something else? Whatever greeting it turns out to be, Etiquetteer needs it to be dignified to be universal, something that expresses respect to the receiver and giver of the greeting.

And how will we react graciously to Those Who Don’t Know and Don’t Care and keep offering their hands for handshakes? The phrase “I don’t shake hands” may come into its own.

We are all going to have to get comfortable with total strangers commenting about our behavior. Everyone has different boundary issues heightened (or not) by social distancing. Etiquetteer agrees that if someone is within six feet of you, you have a right to speak up about it and should. That also means the person you have to speak to shouldn’t take it personally, and should back up cheerfully whether they believe the coronavirus is a political hoax or not. This is so counter to what we’ve been taught about “Live and let live,” but the lives, health, and safety of those around us, and our own selves, is in the balance here.

The era of the large wedding is ending. Etiquetteer deeply admires the Happy Couples who have found ways to proceed with their weddings despite travel bans and social distancing*. In the current climate of virus-risky air travel and other hurdles, Etiquetteer predicts long distance friends and relatives will discover that they are quite comfortable (and saving a passel of money) celebrating a wedding from the safety and comfort of their own homes. Of course we want to be with loved ones when the tie the knot, and many Happy Couples genuinely want to share their happiness with all their families and friends and are not actually in it for the gifts. Expectations about the success of a wedding based on its size will need to change.

No one will dress up any more, and haberdashers and dry cleaners will go out of business. It’s always a greater sin to be overdressed than underdressed (unless, of course, you’re undressed), and the marvelous William Hanson has already put forward the definitive word on proper dress for teleconferencing. That definitive word doesn’t include a coat and tie. And indeed, Etiquetteer has hardly been running about the house in a suit and tie either (except for Dress Dinner Challenge every Saturday night). Etiquetteer predicts that, once the economy reopens, many companies will discover that they got along just fine with everyone working from home and will find ways to keep them there, reduce the size of their offices through hoteling . . . and then employees will have even more opportunities to dress down. You can imagine how Etiquetteer feels about this prospect while brushing up the seersucker suits for summer.

Again, Etiquetteer is very interested to know your own opinions about these issues. Thanks for your time and attention on this brief survey.

*Indeed, a friend of Etiquetteer’s, a beautiful bride, just tied the knot with her husband a few days ago by themselves with an officiant, all of them six feet apart. She wore a beautiful white lace afternoon dress (e.g. not floor length) and their wedding reception for two took place at their kitchen counter with a delicious, elaborate small wedding cake. Etiquetteer cannot think of anything more romantic or delightful.

Fourth Dress Dinner Challenge Recap, 18 April, 2020

Another dress dinner challenge has come and gone, and Perfectly Proper it was, too, in its way. I begin with a 5 PM cocktail hour, this time with a friend via Zoom, and then move to the kitchen at 6 to do battle.

This weekend’s menu, in French as befits a formal dinner:

Cocktail nécromancien

Brie et craquelins Celeri coupé

Salade vert

Risotto écossais

Fraises et bleuets

Restes de chocolats de Pâques

This is a very simple menu for Those Dining Alone because there’s only one recipe, the risotto. It takes no brains at all to chop up celery sticks for hors d’oeuvres, to pull some salad out of a box and add dressing, or to hull some berries to put in a china bowl and sprinkle with sugar. The simplest thing of all was the leftover Easter candy to add to dessert!

“Scottish” risotto came together from memories of a recipe in a cookbook I couldn’t find, a recipe discovered online, and improvisations based on what was actually in the larder. Instead of arborio rice (traditional) or barley (Scottish), I used brown rice (which doubled the cooking time). Instead of dry white wine (the recipe) or Scotch (Scottish, obviously), I added a cup of bourbon. And instead of whatever herb was suggested, dill to complement the salmon. With peas, it accomplished the three elements we’re used to seeing on a dinner plate: meat, starch, and a vegetable. The result was quite palatable, and thank goodness; I’ll be eating it the rest of the week! A dish like risotto isn’t usually served at a formal dinner*, but for Those Dining Alone, and then Cleaning Up Alone, simplicity is key.

Dinner ended with a brief toast for Peace Toward All. To be Perfectly Candid, reading the news earlier in the day left me a rather desperate mood, and the tasks of preparing for dinner - bathing, getting dressed, clearing the decks in the kitchen, mixing drinks - left me feeling more settled than I might have been had I succumbed to bourbon and a pint of ice cream in bed. Perhaps you find it so as well, at the end of the day, or the week. I look forward to dining with you again next Saturday night!

The gold bow tie won out in the voting!

*Millicent Fenwick’s Vogue’s Book of Etiquette provides remarkably detailed information about formal dinners and “dinners of ceremony.”

Elsie de Wolfe's The House in Good Taste, Vol. 19, Issue 19

Obviously the pandemic quarantine is keeping us all at home much more than usual. So you may be seeing your home for the first time (again), and not liking what you see. Etiquetteer wouldn’t be at all surprised to see a rush on contractors, hardware stores, and anyplace furniture is sold once Social Distancing Restrictions are lifted. American residents feel the need of a Perfectly Proper Refresh!

As you daydream about Domestic Improvements, Etiquetteer suggests you consult “first lady of interior decoration” Elsie de Wolfe, whose 1913 book The House in Good Taste offers a great deal of sensible advice. While a bit “scented with lavender” in her way with words*, Miss de Wolfe** famously declared she believed in “optimism and white paint,” which could just as easily apply to the Bauhaus. She also said “There never was a house so bad that it couldn’t be made over into something worthwhile,” which should encourage us all.

The second chapter sets forth her three essential criteria: Suitability, Simplicity, and Proportion. She felt anyone could achieve these with practice and good judgment. “I grant you we may never fully appreciate the full balance of proportion, but we can exert our common sense and decide whether a thing is suitable; we can consult our conscience as to whether an object is simple, and we can train our eyes to recognize good and bad proportion.”

The second trio of words would be Light, Air, and Comfort. One of the defining characteristics of de Wolfe’s aesthetic was her absolute rejection of the dark, the heavy, the Victorian. She revolutionized American taste by sweeping out the horsehair upholstery, dark woodwork, and bales of wine-red velvet in favor of spaciousness and chintz. Her personal anti-Victorian bias led her to favor older styles of furniture, especially French, but her reliance on painted furniture is - how to say this? - not exactly in vogue at the moment.

de Wolfe makes some specific recommendations Etiquetteer would define as timeless: symmetry, mirrors, open fires, soft and light colors, plants, and useful things where they ought to be (such as reading lamps by chairs, etc.) We all know mirrors make a narrow room wider. de Wolfe did so by mirroring a staircase in her Sutton Place home to make the center of the house appear more spacious. How about that?!

Another unusual innovation was to cover a stair rail with velvet (to match the woodwork) when she lived in the Washington Irving House in Manhattan. Etiquetteer would never even have thought that a possibility, but how novel, how creative! In the same house she also created a mini-conservatory out of a bay window, not just by adding plants, but also a tile floor and a fountain, along with a marble curb to protect the rest of the room from any sloshing water. Isn’t that a pleasant thing to daydream about?

Central to the de Wolfe Look at the time of The House in Good Taste were her use of chintzes and toile de Jouy fabrics, French furniture (usually from one or more Louis), and chinoiserie. She rhapsodizes over the boudoir she designed for Anne Morgan: “radiant with color and individuality, as rare rugs are radiant, as jewels are radiant.” She furnished the room with Louis XVI pieces, added a multicolored Persian rug, and painted all the walls cream with blue accents. Even though she later grew to accept Art Deco and flirted with rococo and baroque interiors near the end of her career, this is the style most identified as Elsie de Wolfe’s.

Reading this book, it will help if you know a bit more French than salon, boudoir, Moulin Rouge, rouge et noir, champagne, absinthe, “Louie Sez,” and bonjour. Etiquetteer had no idea what a bonheur de jour desk was until having to look up just what bonheur de jour meant*. And just look at that thing! It’s so petite Etiquetteer couldn’t even sit at it sidesaddle.

The 21st-century Design for Living accommodates much less square footage than hitherto for many people, especially in the big cities where micro-units have become a necessary vogue. de Wolfe includes a chapter about “The Small Apartment,” but she rather negates her understanding of the situation by adding “Of course, many of us who live in apartments either have a little house or a big one in the country for the summer months, or we plan for one some day!” Umm . . . no. But she does go on to offer some solid advice for apartment dwellers: buy compactly, buy gradually as you discover what your needs are, and avoid massive pieces. “Remember that a few good chairs of willow (!) will be less expensive and more decorative than the heavy, stuff chairs usually chosen by inexperienced people.”

Clutter, exemplified by Victorian excess, was de Wolfe’s enemy. That makes her the natural ally of this century’s revolutionary home guide, Marie Kondo. As you look about your quarantine environment and contemplate changes for your comfort, both physical and emotional, go over everything with Elsie in The House in Good Taste, which is free online at the Gutenberg Project. de Wolfe’s ultimate goal was “A house that is like the life that goes on with it, a house that gives us beauty as we understand it - and beauty of a nobler kind that we may grow to understand, a house that looks refined.” French antiques may not be in your future, but a new mirror, a tabletop fountain, a chintz slipcover, or a can of white paint and optimism might be. Etiquetteer wishes you Perfectly Proper Joy as you contemplate plans, and then begin to realize them.

Elsie de Wolfe’s dining room in the Washington Irving House, 1898. Photograph in the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

*For instance, “narrow molding of wood” instead of “narrow wood molding.” Language, too, has its fashions.

**Miss de Wolfe, after sharing a home with theatrical producer Elisabeth Marbury for decades, ended up marrying Sir Charles Mendl to become Lady Mendl. When he is remembered at all, Sir Charles is remembered for appearing as one of Ingrid Bergman’s doddering old playboy gentlemen in Alfred Hitchcock’s Notorious.

***”Daytime delight” is the proper translation. Perhaps “Afternoon Delight” is bonheur de l’apres-midi? And what sort of furniture might have been created for that?

Tea Gowns, Caftans and Coronavirus Clothing, Vol. 19, Issue 18

What do Empress Alexandra Feodorovna and Michael York have in common? Loose, flowing garments for indoor wear, that’s what. Now that we’re all confined at home for the foreseeable future, let’s talk about comfortable clothes, Perfect Propriety, and the intersection where they meet, self care.

Inspiration comes in the oddest places. April 14-15, as we know, is the anniversary of the sinking of the RMS Titanic. Its glittering list of first-class passengers included the celebrity couturière Lucile, Lady Duff Gordon (traveling incognito with her husband, Sir Cosmo). Lucile got her start designing and producing original tea gowns for society ladies. And that got Etiquetteer thinking about What We Wear at Home during the Time of the Coronavirus.

A Lucile tea gown of 1915.

TEA GOWNS

Tea gowns were created to give ladies some breathing room, literally, between day dresses and evening dresses that demanded corsets. Definitely an indoor garment, a lady would wear a tea gown if she was receiving in the late afternoon (during the tea hour, obviously). But her lady visitors would be wearing street clothes - afternoon dresses, walking suits, etc. At a country house party, however, all the ladies would slip on a tea gown for tea because they were all already inside the house.

Tea gown by the House of Worth, 1900-1901, in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum.

These were definitely luxury garments for a class of people used to luxury. Etiquetteer loves that they were described as “a kind of halfway house between a wrapper and a ball gown” at Five Minute History. Their 5-Minute Guide to the Tea Gown is worth your time, both for words and pictures. Another engaging, informative resource is Lily Absinthe’s post on tea gowns and Japonisme. Edwardian Promenade has even more information.

A Jacques Doucet tea gown ca. 1907 in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum.

After World War One, tea gowns were slowly supplanted by lounging pajamas and other Art Deco excesses. Lucile, very much identified with an era Very Decidedly Past, went bankrupt in 1923. As the century progressed, tea gowns seemed to become the Preferred Indoor Garment of Ladies of a Certain Age. There’s a charming account from the early 1950s of Etiquetteer’s dear friend, the late Emma Michie, hosting a group of visiting Northern ladies at a Gulf Coast fishing camp in Emily Kimbrough’s delightful travel memoir So Near and Yet So Far. “In the middle of kitchen on a low chair, Emma sat dressed in a beautiful, lacy, long-flowing tea gown, rocking violently back and forth, talking to the cook . . . [who] was laughing heartily. And as I watched them, the cook put down the dish she was filling, to give Emma a hearty hug. Emma caught sight of us, over the cook’s shoulder, and patting the cook’s arm released herself, rose slowly from the low rocker, and with great dignity, the tea gown trailing behind her, moved to the head of the table.”

CAFTANS

Fast forward to the excesses of another era, the Swinging Sixties, and we see the rise of the caftan. The official definition of caftan is “a usually cotton or silk ankle-length garment with long sleeves that is common throughout the Middle East.” Vogue Arabia tells the story here of the caftan’s emergence in the West from 19th-century Orientalia to midcentury couture (via Dior and Balenciaga) to “hippie chic.” “The popularity in America of the kaftan—from high end to mass market and cheap imports—stemmed from its association with exoticism as well as the easy-to-wear comfort of these pieces.” Caftans were one item the hippies made unisex, culminating in Michael York’s black and gray caftan for loungewear in Logan’s Run of 1976. After that, caftans fell out of style. Coincidence?* But attempts have been made in the 21st century to bring them back. Etiquetteer absolutely supports this, for ladies and gentlemen both.

CORONAVIRUS CLOTHING AND PERFECT PROPRIETY

Are your indoor clothes making you feel comfortable and elegant? We are all wearing our indoor clothing more now, and it is wonderful to feel so comfortable! But some of these comfortable clothes don’t always make us feel elegant or special. Obviously Etiquetteer is not running around the house in a suit and tie; T-shirts and fully-cut linen-weave hemp yoga pants are getting a lot of wear right now. But come the cocktail hour, Etiquetteer will change into what passes for lounging pajamas in this household: a crisper pair of fully-cut linen-weave hemp yoga pants and either a thin wool sweater, an enormous old dress shirt, or a shirt evoking the Exotic East. Dedicating that hour and making it special, including with what is worn, makes a true difference to Etiquetteer’s mood.** Yes, clothing is a Coronavirus Coping Mechanism.

Talking with a lady friend recently about Dress Dinner Challenge (it’s still on this Saturday night!), she said “Well, maybe, but it would mean wearing certain undergarments that have lain untouched in a drawer for a month now.” To which Etiquetteer perhaps scandalously replied “No you don’t! No one needs to know what’s going on under there, and it’s rude to ask anyway***.” Just as a tea gown was designed to avoid the corset, so a caftan might be used to jettison Other Binding Undergarments. But the more opaque the material, the more Perfectly Proper. (This did remind Etiquetteer of the importance of undergarments for ladies wearing hoop skirts in The King and I.)

Depression is a factor for many of us during the quarantine. What we put on our bodies can have just as much of an effect on our moods as what we put into them. You may not have a caftan or a tea gown in your wardrobe****, but there’s no reason not to choose something that makes you feel good, and look good, while wearing it. Have fun with it!

*With no disrespect to its adherents, Etiquetteer is just not a fan of Logan’s Run. But that’s a matter of personal preference, not Perfect Propriety.

**So does whatever’s in the shaker, but that is not the only influence during the cocktail hour.

***This is NOT the sort of liberty a gentleman takes with a lady in conversation as a rule!

****Here’s a DIY caftan suggestion. You might improvise one out of a couple flat sheets and some safety pins or brooches or something if you felt like it, but Etiquetteer won’t guarantee the results. You might at least have fun trying!

Seersucker, Vol. 19, Issue 17

Etiquetteer often likes to pull out a seersucker suit for Easter, in spite of sometimes very cold weather, because pastel colors are associated with springtime and Easter. But is it Perfectly Proper to wear seersucker that early? There’s little agreement on the subject.

Emily Post doesn’t even mention seersucker in her books, nor does Amy Vanderbilt, though she references “gabardines and the various lightweight miracle fabrics” when discussing a gentleman’s spring and summer office clothes*. Esquire Etiquette of 1953 goes a bit further, including seersucker in its list of conservative summer fabrics. But the writers, to Etiquetteer’s chagrin, recommend avoiding “too light, ice-creamy shades.” They add “He may substitute a seersucker jacket and grey flannel slacks for matching suit, but only because ordinary seersucker trousers wrinkle so readily.” Online, and from this century, Gentleman’s Gazette produced a comprehensive guide to seersucker, including its history, its success in America thanks to Haspel, and what to wear with it.

And those are all very helpful resources, but none of them specify when it’s Perfectly Proper to start wearing one’s seersucker in public**. We all know about white shoes being allowed starting on Memorial Day, and traditionalists obey it. And we know about Straw Hat Day, which is now May 15 every year. Isn’t there a Seersucker Day, too? Should there be? Last year US Senator Bill Cassidy of Louisiana declared June 13 National Seersucker Day, but that was more of a Celebration of Seersucker (and why not?) than an Opening of the Season***. Could it - gasp - be possible that we are free to use our own judgment?!

Unsurprisingly, the most important factor is current weather conditions where you live; the warmer the climate, the more allowable seersucker is. Bespoke Unit specifies “warm weather only,” implying that seersucker is appropriate whenever the weather is warm. That does mean that there won’t be a universal Seersucker Day. But Easter Sunday is the absolute earliest that seersucker might appear. Atlanta haberdashers suggest that Yankees (meaning anyone living north of the Mason-Dixon Line) shouldn’t even think about wearing seersucker until Memorial Day. They also suggest that seersucker get put away on Labor Day. But if seersucker is a hot-weather fabric and one considers September temperatures . . . well, Etiquetteer would allow it until Columbus Day, but definitely not afterward.

So, in conclusion, seersucker may be worn in warm weather wherever you live, but not, as a rule, earlier than Easter Sunday. And not even then if Easter is very cold where you live. Etiquetteer, in New England, will now have to find another way to satisfy a craving for pastel haberdashery at Easter.

*It’s worth observing that Mrs. Vanderbilt took note of the recent innovation of air conditioning as a reason for a gentleman to keep his suit coat on at all times.

**The Art of Manliness website finally provides dates: Memorial Day to Labor Day, just like white shoes.

***It seems the US Senate has fluctuated in its seersucker observations over the last 25 years or so.

Pandemic Politeness: Holidays, Vol. 19, Issue 16

Tonight Passover begins, and this is also Holy Week. So much of the world’s population is used to gathering in person, with family or friends, to observe them. For Conscientious Citizens observing Perfectly Proper social distancing, this necessary isolation can feel poignant, depressing - all the bad things. You deserve better.

Perfect Propriety during this unique period involves flexibility, kindness, and yes, effort. Change in how one observes the Holiday of One’s Choice is inevitable. For those of us who value tradition, we have to be flexible in what we do. News outlets are reporting on how to observe Passover via videoconference. If that’s not a departure from tradition, Etiquetteer doesn’t know what is! This year’s Easter dinner challenge may be less getting everyone through the buffet line than it will be synching errant Zoom connections. Rolling with the punches, especially now, is the only possible Perfect Propriety.

We always hope that kindness is part of our spring holidays - even among children who find the same Easter egg at exactly the same time. This year Etiquetteer feels it’s important to emphasize not just kindness to others, but kindness to ourselves. For whatever reason, things just may not get done in as Perfectly Proper a way as we might like. And that’s Perfectly All Right. Imperfection may be the most perfect expression of Perfect Propriety this spring.

But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t make an effort at creating something special. Let’s face it, getting even the simplest things done can seem insurmountable when the future feels so clouded. (For instance last weekend Etiquetteer couldn’t even be bothered with dessert during the Dress Dinner Challenge.) But like an Expensive Well-Known Hair Coloring, we are worth it. We have one life, and we will not regain these days. Ironing a tablecloth may feel like rolling a boulder uphill. But to see it spread across a kitchen or dining room table with a couple candles and a flower in even a paper cup reinforces the stability of our home lives, no matter how momentary. As tough as it might feel, you are worth the trouble of a nice Holiday of Your Choice.

Whether you are observing a holiday this week or not, Etiquetteer wishes you health, safety, and Perfect Propriety. Stay home! The greater prudence you show in 2020 makes it more likely that you, and others, will observe holidays in 2021.

Second Dress Dinner Challenge Recap - 4 April, 2020

Grateful thanks to all who joined last night’s second Dress Dinner Challenge. Looking across social media for the #dressdinnerchallenge hashtag revealed dinners from coast to coast, both diners from last weekend and new Etiquetteer readers taking up the challenge for the first time. Welcome!

This Saturday’s dinner was enriched by a beautiful floral centerpiece, a surprise sent by family members. Still working through the Masque of the Red Death candles in the candelabra, but they had to be relegated to the sideboard. Thanks also to everyone who voted on a choice of bow tie! The centerpiece made the only possible choice the orange check.

This weekend’s menu involved polishing some of the silver plate. Those soup spoons had not had any serious attention in awhile.

The menu (again, in French, as is supposed to be done for all formal dinners):

Cocktail nécromancien

Celeri coupé Brie Toast Melba en cercle

Soupe au poulet et au concombre

Côtelettes de porc Sauce aux câpres

Riz brun Haricots verts

Poire oubliée

Port Amandes

This being a quarantine, some substitutions had to be made. A bottle of Sancerre made do for both the Lillet Blanc in the cocktail and the sherry in the soup and the wine in Etiquetteer’s wineglass. That necromancer cocktail, recommended by friends who joined the challenge this weekend, is mighty bracing: equal parts absinthe, Lillet Blanc, fresh lemon juice, and elderflower liqueur, with a dash of gin. Whoosh! Obviously had to carry it into the kitchen after the cocktail hour to wrestle with some pots and pans.

That beautiful floral tribute relegated the Vincent Price candles to the sideboard.

Aficionados of Ruth Draper’s monologues will remember her instructing the cook in “The Italian Lesson,” “Have you some clear soup? Well, we might have clear soup. Put something amusing in it, I don’t really mind what.” Etiquetteer simplified a clear soup recipe involving chicken and cucumber, added that substitute Sancerre and a bit of dill, et voilà. Clear soup at a formal dinner is properly served in a shallow soup dish (often called a soup plate), and made a helpful reminder that one pushes one’s soup spoon away from you to keep from accidentally sloshing soup all over yourself.

We’ve all been taught that phone and other personal devices don’t belong at the table. But for those of us dining tout seul during the quarantine, it’s Perfectly Proper to Dine Together by Phone. In fact Etiquetteer was surprised to have a Dear Friend “table hop” via Facetime once the port had been reached. Perhaps Etiquetteer could join your dress dinner briefly next Saturday? Please send a private message if you’re interested.

You’re probably wondering what Forgotten Pear is for dessert. It’s for the pear that had been set aside to broil lightly and then serve drizzled with caramel sauce. After the main course, frankly, Etiquetteer just didn’t want to be bothered. So the pear stayed in the kitchen, and Etiquetteer moved on to the port and nuts. Besides, 9 PM Eastern is the start of Jon Richardson Music’s Saturday Night Online Piano Bar, and what better after-dinner entertainment could there be?

The one other thing worth mentioning is that someone tried to shame Etiquetteer about using a paper dinner napkin instead of a Perfectly Proper cloth one. Now get this, people. When you are your own cook, scullion, butler, housemaid, and laundress, something’s got to give. Etiquetteer’s Dear Mother drew the line at cloth napkins and still raised us right. Certainly cloth napkins would be better, but shaming is worse. so just stop that.

Etiquetteer looks forward to dining with you again next Saturday for the #dressdinnerchallenge!

Pandemic Politeness: The Risk of Hospitality, Vol. 19, Issue 15

Dear Etiquetteer:

I have a question and would greatly appreciate your insight. I just heard from my elderly Mom (she'd kill me for referring to her as such) that a neighbor had stopped in for a visit - for an hour. And they sat at her very small kitchen table. Adding to my furor is that this woman (who lives in a house, not under a rock) continues to work in a retail establishment, so she has not been engaging in social distance.

Although I have tried to explain to my dear Mom that she should not allow anyone into her home other than family, lately she tends to forget such details (and I would guess she was delighted to have company other than [Insert Name of Controversial Television Personality] on the TV screen). Clearly the neighbor should have exercised better judgment.

A sign is now on the front door to inform all well-meaning neighbors that we appreciate good wishes, but no one is allowed in the house other than family. Do you have any other Perfectly Proper advice on how I should handle well-meaning neighbors? Another neighbor stopped by yesterday with cookies--aaargh!

Dear Caretaking Offspring:

Your mother’s health is important to protect; so are her relationships with her neighbors. What’s difficult about this pandemic is adjusting to the change in what we’ve been taught about hospitality and neighborliness. For many people, it’s tough to change gears - but it’s necessary. It is quite natural to want to look after elderly neighbors. It’s just as natural, especially for the elderly, to make a Hospitable Impulse and welcome visitors into their homes. The solution is to create some meaningful but safe interactions for your mother.

Would there be a way to set up something like a Zoom call or Facetime so that she could have face-to-face conversations? You might need to be present for this, depending on your mother’s tech savvy. (Etiquetteer will confess to a dislike of having to explain technology to others; it’s Etiquetteer who needs the explaining!) Perhaps she might need headphones or something else to assist if she’s hearing-impaired.

Aside from that, you might have individual conversations with the neighbors your mother sees the most, voice to voice preferred. Thank them first for their engagement with her; good neighbors are good to have, and keep! Then share your concerns about the pandemic and ask for their help supporting good social distance practice with your mother. This is Not the Sort of Thing we’ve every been taught is Perfectly Proper to ask, but “hard times call for harsh measures.” By asking for their help rather than issuing orders you show that you’re all playing on the same team.

Etiquetteer wishes health and safety to your family, and safe and happy engagement with your mother’s neighbors.

Etiquetteer, like all of us, has had some interesting experiences in the Time of the Coronavirus:

• With much embarrassment, Etiquetteer’s neighbors sent a text message to find out if Etiquetteer had the coronavirus. This only happened after hearing much coughing over several days while Etiquetteer had a very bad cold. Happily, having seen the doctor, Etiquetteer could report a doctor’s care and absence of the coronavirus, but it was easy to see how difficult it is for people who are deeply (and rightly) concerned about their own health and survival having to ask questions that are not ordinarily Perfectly Proper.

• Etiquetteer was very surprised to hear the doorbell ring a week ago. Surely the political canvassers and religious proselytizers were staying at home, yes? Delightfully, the visitors turned out to be former neighbors bearing the gift of a tiny orchid in a tiny pot, which they had left at the front door before backing six feet away. We had a nice conversation in the chilly air. Etiquetteer felt guilty and apologetic about not being able to invite them in - but that didn’t stop Etiquetteer from saying “I’m so sorry I can’t invite you in.” And these friends were very understanding.

• Out and about on narrow sidewalks and the pathways of parks, most everyone is good about social distancing - but not everyone. There’s a minority of people who may or may not care about social distancing, but they expect everyone else to do it around them. They are not going to be bothered!

Inaugural Dress Dinner Challenge Recap - 28 March, 2020

Etiquetteer would like to thank everyone who participated in the first Saturday night Dress Dinner Challenge last night! If you go to Instagram and Facebook and search for #dressdinnerchallenge, you’ll find some wonderful, fun photographs of quarantined diners dressed in their finest from Massachusetts to Colorado to California.

For Etiquetteer the evening began with a champagne videoconference with Relatives at a Geographic Distance. But when you serve as your own household staff, that means any dinner party will eventually end up in the kitchen.

Because formal dinner menus are most Perfectly Proper in French, here’s Etiquetteer’s translated menu:

Mort l'après-midi cocktail (champagne and absinthe)

Céleri coupé Fromage cheddar et craquelins

Salade verte d’un paquet, vinaigrette au parmesan à l'ail

Saumon poché champagne, sauce à l'oignon

Épinards cuits Riz brun

Jello à l'orange avec garniture fouettée non laitière

Now, doesn’t that sound fancier than it really was? Poached salmon with onions, boiled spinach, and brown rice! You can dress up any old piece of fish if you say it in French.

The main course. The red candles in the candelabra evoke Vincent Price in Masque of the Red Death.

When one is one’s own staff, finding ways to simplify Perfect Propriety make a difference. So of course a jellied dessert can be made to look impressive depending on what you set it in. Dear Grandmother’s Victorian-style hobnail coupes served the purpose admirably.

The dessert course. Candlelight makes Etiquetteer grainier.

Because Etiquetteer had recently been given an excellent bottle of port, the meal concluded with port and almonds. It used to be the thing at formal dinners to intersperse dishes of nuts and candies down the table, and fans of Elizabeth von Arnim’s novel Enchanted April will remember Mrs. Fisher cracking her walnuts with her port at the end of dinner.

Etiquetteer hopes to welcome all of you, and more, to next week’s Dress Dinner Challenge. Many thanks to all the diners, and especially Ondine Brent Eysseric, Craig Hughes, Tim Fitzgerald, David Santori, David Bragdon, Catherine Tidd, and Kymm Zuckert for their enthusiasm and encouragement.

In the meantime, stay home!

Pandemic Politeness: Videoconferencing Etiquette, Vol. 19, Issue 14

By this time it’s not news that video interaction has exploded due to the coronavirus confining us to our homes. All kinds of functions are conducted online now - including bodily functions, yikes! NOT Perfectly Proper! So something needs to be said.

Wiliam Hanson, the brilliant etiquette expert in Great Britain, has developed the perfect video tutorial for videoconferencing. Watch it right now, before you even continue reading this column. There really is no point in anyone else trying to make one; it is perfection.

But Etiquetteer will expand on one or two points that shouldn’t have to be made. First, the videoconference never ever enters the bathroom. By now everyone has heard about “Poor Jennifer,” the Zoom videoconference in which a participant is seen walking down a hall, turning into her bathroom, and dropping trou to sit on the porcelain throne*. Nobody needs to know that much about you, especially in the workplace. If you need to Perform a Bodily Function, behave as you would in your office meeting room: leave and go to the restroom. And if anyone should rudely call attention to your absence, you can just say you were washing your hands. Never has a euphemism responded better to a cultural moment.

Next, unless your office has a clothing-optional dress code, be fully clothed for your videoconference. “Don’t be a ‘Ben’ while working from home!” this Facebook video from John French declares. This is decidedly a NSFW video, as you can see all of a man who must not have known he was in a video conference. It’s sort of a running gag now, “Oh, I only have to dress up from the waist up for a video!” Let Etiquetteer firmly say NO to that. Even if you’re not fully dressed (but you should be) you need to be fully covered.

The overarching theme here, as you might have guessed: always assume your video camera is on. If you believe the only way you can’t be seen is to cover your camera with a Post-it or a bit of duct tape, do that.

Before the videoconference begins, know the technology. Finding a platform in which all invited guests can participate leads to challenges; everyone in a workplace shares a tech platform (presumably), but socially it’s a bit of a minefield. Facetime, for instance, isn’t a possibility for people not on an Apple platform - and that’s only one example. Etiquetteer made a spectacular fail out of a Google Hangout champagne videoconference last weekend by not understanding that all the participants needed to be in Google Contacts (or whatever it’s called) before the start of the conference. Proof that you don’t know what you don’t know. An epic fail for one who is supposed to be Perfectly Proper all the time! A dress rehearsal in advance with the most knowledgeable participant will help guarantee a promptly begun and smoothly run video gathering**. One possible resource is here at BroadbandSearch.

Lastly, something has to be done about the windbags. Etiquetteer was video chatting with a Dear Friend recently who participates in many professional video conferences. Dear Friend noted that a lot of Prolific Talkers miss visual cues they’d be more likely to see around a conference table to shut up. If you’re a windbag, time yourself. If you can’t make your point in three minutes or less, be prepared to cede the floor. Moderators and meeting organizers need to be specially deft at monitoring speaking times, and soliciting feedback from more silent participants.

Etiquetteer wishes you many smoothly run meetings and gatherings on video for the duration of the pandemic!

*And who on earth put this video on the internet in the first place?! Definitely not Perfectly Proper. “Poor Jennifer” could perhaps sue for defamation of character.

**Special thanks to Dear Cousin Dottie for serving as Directrice of Google Hangouts.

Corona Cards from Kids, Vol. 19, Issue 13

Dear Etiquetteer:

During this time of social disconnection, what do you think of a new take on an old tradition: Corona Cards from Kids?  

If you can, hire an out-of-work photographer, who can stay at least six feet away (or take a good DIY shot). Then print and mail to family and friends.  Sadly, there are family members who may not see grandchildren, cousins, etc. for many months. Maybe a nice photo on the shelf would keep spirits up and boast immunity a bit.

Thoughts?

Dear Camp Corona Counselor:

So many thoughts!

Keeping children engaged during house confinement is challenging at the best of times. Etiquetteer can only imagine the added stress of quarantine during this Time of the Coronavirus. Etiquetteer salutes you for thinking creatively about this now.

It is a beautiful and noble thing to consider hiring freelancers during this unique moment in our economy. If this is a possibility for your family, and you can engage a photographer who is able and willing to travel (which may not be possible), by all means do so.

What Etiquetteer likes even more about this idea is that it is something the children can be actively engaged in. And you already know how valuable Etiquetteer believes handwritten correspondence is! Even if you can’t manage notecards with portrait photographs, we all know that grandparents love limited edition artwork from their favorite artists. If you don’t have blank notecards suitable for drawing, just fold ordinary paper into a square.

And why limit yourself to the visual? What about poetry? Couplets, limericks, haikus - all are possible, and all will be welcomed happily by recipients.

Etiquetteer knows of one self-isolated household with teenagers who have decided to form a Quarantine Choir. In-person audiences are not possible, of course, but even if they’re just doing it for their own pleasure, that is sufficient.

Long story short, you’ve hit on a wonderful way to engage children creatively that also helps them think about family and friends they can’t be with for awhile. What could be more Perfectly Proper? Etiquetteer wishes you joy as you proceed, and lots of return mail from recipients.

Let’s also take a moment to salute the workers of the United States Postal Service and other delivery services who are continuing to work during this crisis. They are doing a splendid job keeping us connected!

Finally, Etiquetteer would love to see you and your family get involved in the Saturday Night Dress Dinner Challenge. From setting the table to making decorations - or even helping cook the dinner - there are alots of ways for children of all ages to be involved.

Saturday Night Dress Dinner Challenge, Vol. 19, Issue 13

Aside from the crushing anxiety of coronavirus uncertainty, more and more of us are required to remain in our homes day and night. House confinement is always an opportunity to let standards slip, and also for colossal boredom. We need to create routines to keep us going, and we need to inject them with something special to look forward to.

So get ready for an Etiquetteer Injection. The time has come to issue the SATURDAY NIGHT DRESS DINNER CHALLENGE to keep up our spirits and our Perfect Propriety when we need it most.

What’s the Saturday Night Dress Dinner Challenge? For pandemic Saturday nights, hold yourself a formal dinner in your own home for everyone confined there, whether it’s a lot of people or just you. Especially if it’s just you. Make it special! Get out the good stuff, whatever you have that you save for the holidays, and set a beautiful table. If there are children, ask them to come up with something for a table centerpiece; it doesn’t have to be flowers all the time. Dining by candlelight is always special; bring out the tapers and tea lights.

Your kitchen may turn out haute cuisine or canned beans, but whatever you’re serving, serve it with some style. A bit of garnish goes a long way to improving one’s mood.

Don’t neglect yourself, either. Bathe (it’s shocking how often people forget to bathe during home confinement), and put on your good clothes. No need to go full-on black tie (unless you really feel like it), but wear something a cut above your usual housebound athleisure wear. Recall the words of Dowager Empress Marie Fedorovna (as shared with her imprisoned granddaughters in 1971’s Nicholas and Alexandra): “Remember to dress for dinner. It keeps up one’s dignity, and impresses the people.” Shucks, make it a costume party and bring out your Hallowe’en costumes! This should be fun!

On Saturday night, share your photos with Etiquetteer using the #DressDinnerChallenge hashtag on Facebook, Twitter, and now Instagram, too.

We may not be able to sit at the same table together, but we can get through this pandemic together. I hope you’ll join me next Saturday night for #DressDinnerChallenge.

Done with Y'all, Vol. 19, Issue 12

Dear Etiquetteer:

I know that you were born and raised in Louisiana. Please help this born and bred Yankee with his “y’all” problem. I have asked other Southerners about this and have been routinely "tut-tutted." How can one abate the revolting affectation of people born north of the Mason-Dixon Line dropping y'alls like hush puppies at a fish fry? It is revolting because it screams faux casualness. When used by non-Southerners it always seems like one is being gently ribbed, and I don't like smudges of BBQ sauce in the discourse I am part of.

I know I sound like someone rapping his umbrella on the counter. So be it. I do so unabashedly. If you are Southern by all means revel in the glorious idiom of William Faulkner, Flannery O'Connor, and Tennessee Williams. But those of you who cannot claim their drawl by birthright please stick to the script you learned while skating on a frozen pond or ducking into a doorway to avoid a frosty gust*.

So you see Etiquetteer, I wish to admonish, but I know too well that it is impolite to do so. What's to be done about this addiction to Dixie's diction?

Dear Yankee:

Once the horses are out of the corral, it’s tough to get them back inside. Applauding the National Anthem or clinking glasses after a toast are not Perfectly Proper, but those battles have been long lost, never mind how valiantly Etiquetteer and other writers may continue to fight them.

You may find (cold) comfort in the knowledge that other etiquette writers don’t exactly approve of slang, but acknowledge that it needs to be used with obvious humor to be effective. Amy Vanderbilt Herself wrote in her 1954 Complete Book of Etiquette “ . . . innocuous slang expressions sound particularly inept from a grown man or woman, unless one is using them quite consciously and in fun.” [emphasis Etiquetteer’s] And Etiquetteer’s revered Emily Post, in her 1937 edition of Etiquette, says “All colloquial expressions are little foxes that spoil the grapes of perfect diction, but they are very little foxes.” Mrs. Post felt that the Pretentious were a greater threat to Best Society than the Ironic.

In other words, the “y’all” problem is, uh, y’all’s.

Your query immediately brought to mind the attempts of the late Mame Dennis to assimilate after her marriage to Beauregard Jackson Pickett Burnside. Aside from the “the roar of crinoline beneath her skirts,” she adopted the Southland’s Signature Pronoun “both singular and plural.” At least she did right up to the second she met her hostile mother-in-law, after which she knew there was No Hope.

If you really want to mount the barricades over this, however, you could attempt to take on the role of Mother Burnside with these Y’alling Yankees. Fix them with a Steely Glare over your Beaky Nose**, make your lips as thin and disapproving as possible, and say “I was not aware of your Southern ancestry.” Etiquetteer takes no responsibility for the consequences, especially if it turns into a Long Discussion About Feelings.

With respect, this Yankee Epidemic of Y’alls sounds unique to your situation. Perhaps you are circulating among a particularly closed community bonding intimately with Faulkner, O’Connor, and Williams? Did those writers use the Southland’s Signature Pronoun in their writing? Launch that topic and see where it goes. But really, you should expand your circle to include people interested in Yankee writers like Edith Wharton, Nathaniel Hawthorne, or Robert B. Parker.

Etiquetteer does have an issue with y’all: inappropriate use of the apostrophe. Y’all is not yall, and it is certainly not ya’ll. It is y’all, and that’s that. Y’all.

Etiquetteer wishes y’all success in cultivating a new, y’all-free circle of conversationalists.

*Etiquetteer by the way, wouldn’t dream of avoiding a Frosty Gust, but be sure to use only the good bourbon, and stir it, don’t shake it.

**The beakiness of Mother Burnside’s nose is commented on more than once.

Required Reading for Perfect Propriety, Vol. 19, Issue 11

The Boston Athenaeum has mounted a remarkable exhibition called Required Reading, a “reimagining” of the King’s Chapel Library given to King’s by William and Mary in the 1690s. Conceived and collected by one English divine, Thomas Gray, it represents his personal vision of what every church should have and represent. For this “reimagining,” the Athenaeum has invited individuals and cultural organizations to supply their own Required Reading to be displayed in a replica of the collection’s elaborate cabinet. Inspired by this exhibition, Etiquetteer hereby submits a list of books for Required Reading in Perfect Propriety.

Some of these titles might surprise, but most will not. We learn about manners from more books than those just written about manners. Lessons show up in everything we read . . . and let’s face it, most of us don’t read the great big etiquette books cover to cover. We peck at them like chickens at grain, looking for the kernels of knowledge we need at that moment. But some of them are so very engaging that they are required reading, every page! Let’s begin:

THE GREAT BIG ETIQUETTE BOOKS

Etiquette, by Emily Post. Unquestionably the first book on any etiquette reading list. While subsequent editions by her descendants are also valuable, Etiquetteer is especially fond of Mrs. Post’s own editions. The graciousness of her language softens the incisiveness of some of her perceptions in the most pleasing way, and her ability to tell stories to show how good manners make a difference makes it even more delightful. Etiquetteer was weaned on the 1950 edition, but the original 1922 edition is worthy of interest because of how Mrs. Post handles controversial topics like Prohibition and divorce.

Miss Manners’ Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior, by Judith Martin. In Etiquetteer’s view, the greatest of Judith Martin’s many incisive, witty, and wise books about manners. Her fearlessness in crossing swords with her Gentle Readers has justly won her fans and fame.

Eleanor Roosevelt’s Book of Common Sense Etiquette, by Eleanor Roosevelt (obviously). “The basis of all good human behavior is kindness” as well as the basis of this comprehensive and wise book. A portion of her legacy obscured by her many other achievements, Mrs. Roosevelt treats the concerns of all with sensitivity in ways other books of the period would have trembled to acknowledge. Leaf through this and at any point, whether it’s proper attire for an office, a debutante dance, or how to answer the telephone, Eleanor’s advice is as fresh and true as any 21st-century advisor’s. Unique to books of the period, Eleanor includes subsections on both teen-agers and the handicapped (to whom we now refer as the disabled or the differently abled).

FICTION

Auntie Mame, by Patrick Dennis, taught one dear friend of Etiquetteer’s that religious discrimination was wrong. Her slaying of the Upsons remains a towering example of how to keep one’s cool as a guest in someone’s home, but also stand up for one’s principles until it just isn’t possible to remain a guest. Besides that, Mame Dennis understood the value of words. “An extensive vocabulary is the hallmark of every truly intellectual person” should be a guide to everyone. Plus, it’s worth knowing that different groups of friends should be entertained differently. Impressing your nephew’s future in-laws is not the same as entertaining “a distinguished Lithuanian rabbi and two chorus girls from the cast of Blackbirds.”

The Age of Innocence and The House of Mirth, by Edith Wharton. Wharton’s chronicles of the slow decline and fall of Old New York society beautifully illustrate how manners change over time - sometimes, but not always, for the better.

NON-FICTION

Tiffany’s Table Manners for Teen-Agers (1961) - a slim, easily digested volume with foreword by Walter Hoving - covers basic table manners with both efficiency and charm for diners of all ages. But Etiquetteer will admit to disagreeing on a couple items with the redoubtable Mr. Hoving. One almost never sees people eating asparagus with their fingers any longer, for instance. Mr. Hoving may consider handles for corn-on-the-cob “artificial and precious,” but Etiquetteer considers them a necessity for households in which finger bowls aren’t part of the dinner service. And most especially, it is no longer thought Perfectly Proper to remove gristle or anything else you can’t swallow by maneuvering it onto your fork. It takes so long to do that it becomes dinner theatre! Just use your fingers and put the offending bit on the edge of your plate.

Dinner in Camelot, by Joseph Esposito. Once you’ve mastered how to eat dinner properly, Mr. Esposito’s account of the famous 1962 Kennedy dinner for Nobel laureates will inspire you to give your own dinner party (on a much much smaller scale, of course). It’s all here, from menus and logistics to the more challenging problem of how to interact with a houseguest who’s been picketing your house all day.

The Art of Worldly Wisdom, by Baltasar Gracián, is a collection of aphorisms ready to guide our behavior with engaging subtlety.

Good Manners for Nice People Who Sometimes Say F*ck, by Amy Alkon. Etiquetteer has written of this valuable volume before. Ms. Alkon writes from the little-traversed intersection of Etiquette and Science, and her observations and research will guide you to see things helpfully from a different vantage point.

The Guest List: How Manhattan Defined American Sophistication---from the Algonquin Round Table to Truman Capote's Ball, by Ethan Mordden, and Stork Club: America’s Most Famous Nightspot and the Lost World of Café Society, by Ralph Blumenthal. Interesting epilogues to Edith Wharton’s novels (see above), these authors trace how America redefined what made up aristrocracy (hint: not bloodlines) and how café society further changed perceptions about what it meant to be “upper class” and how that class behaved in public.

The House in Good Taste, by Elise de Wolfe, the creator of interior design as a profession. Ms. de Wolfe famously believed in “optimism and white paint” and if her aesthetic focuses too intently on toiles, chintzes, and French furniture of the Usual Louis Periods, well . . . there are many worse places where she could have focused.

On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century, by Timothy Snyder, may seem like a radical choice for a book list about etiquette. But let’s face it, manners are used to preserve Good Social Order, and Tyranny is Just Not That Sort of Social Order. Perfect Propriety also means Vigilance.

Etiquetteer feels sure that you, too, have your favorite books about manners. Please do share, either by email to Etiquetteer for a future column, or on Facebook or Twitter.

The Coronavirus, the "L.A. Hug," and Perfect Propriety, Vol. 19, Issue 10

Suddenly everyone seems to be panicking about the coronavirus. Everyone needs to take a well-considered breath before continuing to lose their minds. This is hardly the time to start crying “It’s like the end of the world!” with Aunt Pittypat and refugeeing to Macon*. Instead, let’s join Mrs. White in a brisk, declarative “PLEASE!” regain control of ourselves, and lay some plans for Pandemic Perfect Propriety.

The first and most obvious thing to change is how people interact in public spaces - or avoid interacting. The New York Times has unapologetically suggested moving as far away as possible from those exhibiting cold or flu symptoms in public. “Try for six feet, but even a little distancing is helpful.” This can seem counterintuitive to recognizing our common humanity, but from a public health standpoint, it’s Perfectly Proper.

Patience, sympathy, and understanding will have to be piled on thick during this pandemic period, especially as we consider how we greet each other. The handshake, the traditional gesture of greeting, suddenly seems a life-threatening procedure to more than a few. Social kissing may seem more so, even the airier variety. And then there’s the “L.A. Hug,” a seemingly regional custom of the seven- to ten-second hug replacing the handshake for even the most casual greeting. Sweet mercy goodness. Is that a hug, or slow dancing?

Now Etiquetteer has to admit to hating the phrase “I don’t shake hands.” No matter how compassionately or thoughtfully it’s expressed, to Etiquetteer it always sounds like “You are unclean and I am not going to risk my health to treat you like an equal.” No, that really isn’t what they mean, Etiquetteer must hasten to add, but that’s what it feels like.** To refuse to shake a man’s hand was (and often is) considered an insult***. But here we are entering a period where handshaking is identified as a risky behavior. Etiquetteer is going to have to replace those feelings of rejection with awareness of this unique period and Patient Compassion.

The “L.A. Hug” gives us the other side of the coin. “I don’t shake hands, may I hug you?” says “I reject tired old common courtesy in favor of true intimacy with everyone and if you don’t hug me back it can only mean that you’re uptight, unwilling to forge a true emotional connection, and a bad person.” Someone in that NYT article is quoted saying “It’s as if greeting someone with a warm smile and handshake is like flipping someone the bird or telling them they smell.” (You really should read that article. It’s fascinating, and alarming.)

In response to which Etiquetteer can only take a step back, stare steadily into the eyes of the Eager L.A. Hugger and channel Mary Astor in Across the Pacific: “I don’t think I know you that well.” And indeed, the most Perfectly Proper way to get out of an unwanted hug is to take a brisk step back, fix the eye of the Hugger with a firm stare, and extend the hand forthrightly for a handshake. Etiquetteer has seen ladies do this in the workplace for years with masterful results.

Those of us to continue to offer our hands (or kisses) in traditional greeting must prepare to be more tolerant of those who will shy away, whether they are total strangers or intimate friends and family. They are rejecting only the physical form of your greeting, not you yourself. This is likely to take a lot of adjustment, but don’t despair, and don’t give up.

Really, it’s high time for us all to start bowing slightly from the waist. It’s Completely Respectable and acknowledges both our common humanity and a mutual desire to contain the spread of germs. Does this sound like it might become Pandemic Perfect Propriety?

Lastly, make more of an opportunity to wash your hands, especially when out and about. There’s nothing embarrassing about excusing yourself for this purpose (though you needn’t advertise it), and it’s been proven many times over to be a very effective method of reducing transmission. Here’s a very interesting 2012 article from Psychology Today on the subject you may find interesting.

*But should the time come that we do have to refugee to Macon with Aunt Pittypat, don’t forget to bring the silver. If there’s any lesson to be learned from Gone With the Wind, it’s that when you refugee, you bring the silver. Sterling silver, that is. Plate isn’t worth the bother.

**Everyone else gets to have feelings about manners, why not Etiquetteer?!

*** An interesting Miss Manners column on the subject is here.