Dear Etiquetteer:
The soon to be released film Corsage, about Empress Elisabeth of Austria’s later years, has a trailer with a scene of Emperor Franz Joseph dining. He is depicted in his customary military uniform but with a napkin at his chin. The Habsburg Court’s Spanish etiquette was infamously rigid. It included oddities such as several small tables at court dinners rather than a single long one. I have read a description of Sigmund Freud having a napkin under his chin, but would the kaiserlich und königlich napkin have been so displayed? Or will this movie start chins wagging all throughout die alte Kaiserstadt?
Dear Hapsburgian:
Your query illustrates just why the movies are rarely, if ever, a reliable guide to Perfect Propriety. Filmmakers routinely, out of ignorance or a desire to create a particular impression, allow etiquette errors that strain credulity. Etiquetteer has written before about James Cameron’s Titanic. Another 1997 film, Amistad, depicted a gentleman’s dinner at which all the gentlemen kept their gloves on while eating — an absolute impossibility. And in 2001’s Gosford Park, a footman is shone spitting on a fork to give it a good shine when setting the table, a violation of Perfect Propriety and sanitation. Yecccccchhhhhh!
So whether Franz Joseph ever tucked a napkin under his chin or not, Etiquetteer predicts that this might be a vigorous topic on Austrian monarchy fan websites for only the first week of the movie’s release. As Celeste Holm so memorably said in All About Eve, “Lloyd says that in the theatre a lifetime is a season and a season a lifetime.”
But what about this whole Napkin Under the Chin thing? How did this practice get such a bad reputation? A napkin is supposed to protect our clothing, isn’t it? For more than a few the Danger Zone is less the lap than it is the torso. We are not all sylphs who can sit right at the edge of the table.
The rise of Refinement in the 19th century led to a rejection of anything that appeared greedy or emphasized otherwise normal appetites — for instance, the enjoyment of food. A period etiquette etiquette summed it up succinctly: “Unfold your napkin and lay it across your knees, never pinning it over your breast like an alderman [whom the genteel regarded as virtually synonymous with saloonkeepers] or a slobbering infant.”*
Fast forward a few decades, and Amy Vanderbilt makes the same point, but less judgmentally. “In this country, the napkin is never tucked in at the collar or in the vest, but must be put on the lap and opened lengthwise . . . “** Emily Post Herself notes in Etiquette (1950) that “The only thing that matters is that a napkin shall stay on your lap.” She, at least, acknowledges that not everyone has a lap by suggesting a napkin clip. “. . . [someone] who has a shelving lap will perhaps find it practical to carry a pair of small spring clips with which to clip a too little or too starched napkin to her dress or the edge of his waistcoat. After all, it isn’t much use on the floor!”***
Wait a minute — napkin clips?! Oh yes! Little sterling silver clips, often in pairs, were created in the late 19th century according to Maura Graber in her What Have We Here? compendium. But she also declares “that they were considered ‘not good form.’”***** Despite Graber and the blogger at Maurice Sedwell, Etiquetteer is not entirely convinced that these napkin clips were made to be used at bodice level.
Letitia Baldrige**** suggests a different approach, since “it looks pretty tacky to tie a large napkin bib style around your neck — unless, of course, you are a child.” For “splashy” food, she recommends leaning over the table and holding one corner of the napkin under your chin with your left hand and eating with your right. This approach has the advantage of both protecting one’s clothes and not leaving a napkin permanently around the chin during a meal. With all due respect to Ms. Baldrige, it also sounds like a suggestion from someone who hasn’t had to attempt it at three meals a day.
Where does Etiquetteer stand on this? Well . . . no one should have to leave the table humiliated by a stain when they’re doing the best they can. And life is too short to avoid delicious soups and sauces completely. So, avoid it if you can. But if you feel the need to tuck your napkin under your chin, Etiquetteer will fall back on Marty Feldman’s immortal advice in Young Frankenstein: “Say nothing. Act casual.” What could be more Perfectly Proper?
*Timothy Edward Howard, Excelsior or Essays on Politeness, Education, and the Means of Attaining Success in Life, Part I -- For Young Gentlemen, quoted in Rudeness and Civility, by John Kasson, page 204.
**Amy Vanderbilt’s New Complete Book of Etiquette, 1963 , page 255.
***Etiquette, page 497. Her greatest concern, though, was the lady in a satin evening gown who had to keep her handbag, gloves, and possibly a fan balanced on her lap during dinner.
****Graber also mentions mustache clips!
*****Letitia Baldrige’s New Manners for New Times, 2003, pages 198-199.