Now that Twelfth Night has well and truly passed, the Holiday Season may be declared officially over. But residual dilemmas linger on. Etiquetteer has been casting a Disapproving Glance over a martini at That Mr. Dimmick Who Thinks He Knows So Much over some of this Holiday Fallout. How well are you faring on these, or similar issues?
First, there’s the Mystery Gift: the present that was received, and possibly opened, but whose giver is now unknown. That Mr. Dimmick held two small gatherings over the holidays and was delighted to receive a few Christmas gifts in a maneuver known as the Furtive Party Handoff. Now that the glitter has been swept away, he has no idea who gave that bottle of Bordeaux (“to enjoy on your own”) or the paperback novel Less, and therefore no idea to whom to send a Lovely Note! It doesn’t help to remember that both of these were received directly from the givers and that at least one of them at one point had a gift label on it. such tedious carelessness. He ought to know better!
One can hardly put out an APB to the entire guest list such as “If you gave me something, could you please remind me what it was?” Aside from making one look absent-minded (no matter how true that might be), it could also conjure unwanted feelings of guilt from other guests who never even contemplated bringing a gift. After all, one invites friends into one’s home for the pleasure of their company, not because of the expectation of a gift, even if it is Christmas. And then, think of the chagrin of the gift giver at not being remembered!
To prevent this sort of mixup in the future, recipients should have a pad and pen handy to jot down swiftly who gave what (yes, even in the midst of hosting a party!), or write it on the wrapping paper, and givers should tape gift labels firmly (especially to bottled gifts).
An APB could be issued to a guest list about recovered property. A handsome burgundy scarf remained after guests departed That Mr. Dimmick’s on New Year’s Day, and a discreet email message to the guest list along the lines of “Would the owner of a burgundy scarf please reply to . . . “ isn’t out of place. Just send it as a bcc: to everyone to prevent an endless round of Reply All responses, so frustrating to everyone who isn’t involved. (How do people manage this sort of thing by group text? Etiquetteer confesses that such a disruption would be maddening.)
Then the question of what to do with unhealthy leftovers comes up. Supply of dessert exceeded demand* and That Mr. Dimmick now finds himself with a refrigerator full of Slowly Decaying Sweetness. The problem of course is that after the holidays everyone wants to rush to the Lady Bird Johnson Diet (clear soups and salad) or the Rich White Woman’s Diet (white wine and celery) to start slimming. Baked goods can often pass as leftover offerings when inviting a couple close friends over for tea or coffee. Invite them over now! But that wrecked molded cream, however, might have to be consigned to the waste bin rather than the waistline.
What sort of holiday fallout did you have to face, dear readers? Etiquetteer wants to know!
*How on earth is that ever possible, really?