Wish Lists, Vol. 20, Issue 92

Dear Etiquetteer:

For the past few years, a dear college friend has put out a wish list on [Insert Name of Behemoth Retailer Here] for her friends and family. At first, I bristled at the list because I had been buying gifts for her for years without the help of a list. And also, her first list came out too late for me: I usually do my holiday shopping in October.

But recently, I have found myself perusing her lists, and enjoying the journey through her books, music, cooking supplies, and other things that have made her life enjoyable. I've even been poaching from her list (and letting her know which things I have found enjoyable).

I'm embarrassed that I found her first list so disagreeable (I only confided this to one friend), and I now enjoy when her list comes up. I was wondering what Etiquetteer feels about wish/gift lists. On the one hand, the element of surprise in a gift is quite diminished. But on the other hand, I know for certain that my friend will definitely find joy in something from her list. As for myself, I still can't bring myself to thrust a list upon the people who are dear to me, but I know it might make their shopping decisions a bit easier.

Dear Shopping:

Whether Etiquetteer likes wish lists or not, they have definitely come to stay. Too many shoppers, anxious to find a gift that is guaranteed to please, will turn to them for Holiday Hints. And too many recipients want a simple way to answer the question “What would you like for [Insert Holiday of Your Choice Here] this year?” It’s important to acknowledge that, when used thoughtfully and with Perfect Propriety, wish lists help to reduce Holiday Shopping Anxiety.

And just what is the Perfectly Proper way to use a wish list? First, wait to share it until someone asks about it. it’s easy to look selfish when broadcasting a wish list far and wide without invitation — often like Happy Couples with their wedding registries. Perhaps Etiquetteer is overly sensitive, but wish lists sometimes seem so transactional, less an act of friendship and/or generosity than just . . . commerce. Surely the Spirit of [Insert Holiday of Your Choice Here] is less cold than that, yes? You yourself note how the sense of surprise is diminished when a wish list is involved. Etiquetteer agrees.

Next, Etiquetteer worries about recipients who expect gifts from the wish list and who hand out side-eye to friends and family who choose something else. Life hands us many things we do not expect, and often they are just what we didn’t know we actually wanted. Express gratitude for all gifts received — and follow up with a Lovely Note immediately; it’s so reassuring to the giver.

A downside to wish lists from [Insert Behemoth Retailer Here] that has nothing to do with etiquette is that they concentrate commerce with the Behemoth Retailers and not with the many delightful small businesses throughout this Great Nation. Celebrate Retail Diversity by scrolling through that wish list, and then seeing where you can get some of those items more locally.

Finally, Etiquetteer has to salute you, Shopping, for finding a way to use your friend’s wish list to further your friendship. How lovely that you are discovering items that bring you joy from her list — that you might not have known about otherwise. Etiquetteer wishes you a stress-free Season of Shopping, with or without wish lists.

Readers and Upside-Down Wineglasses, Vol. 20, Issue 91

Etiquette, as Etiquetteer has pointed out so often, is situational awareness. It means knowing what to do, and what not to do, in any given time and place, and in whatever role you happen to be filling at the time. How you handle a wineglass, for instance, might differ depending on whether you’re host, guest, or staff, or in a private home, a restaurant, or a banquet hall. This was brought home to Etiquetteer after last weekend’s column. Long story short: people in recovery will take care of themselves, and a banquet is different from a restaurant.

A recovering alcoholic argued that the upside-down glass should be Perfectly Proper at a large dinner* “not to have to be watchful for a server approaching to pour wine I neither want to drink nor stare at for the remainder of the event.” Now Etiquetteer knew this would come up when writing that column, and should have listened to that sixth sense.** Many years ago Etiquetteer was drinking at a large round table in a restaurant while seated next to an acquaintance who also happened to be in recovery. The gentleman asked, very politely, for Etiquetteer to move his wineglass to the other side of his place setting; its proximity to him was discomfiting. Of course Etiquetteer was happy to comply. 

Sensitivity to the needs of those in recovery is something that wouldn’t have been actively considered 50 years ago, even though Emily Post Herself called out its importance in early editions of her books. “If pressed further, say seriously ‘No--really, I can’t!’ or as one member of Alcoholics Anonymous says smilingly but firmly, ‘No can take.’”*** So to turn down a glass at a banquet is one thing, but at a smaller restaurant dinner or, heavens forfend, in a private home, is quite another. Situational awareness!

Then came the comment of a veteran of the catering industry that, in fact, catering staff recognize that the upturned wineglass is a signal to remove the glass -- “just as an upturned coffee cup is recognized at events that have a preset cup (which I have oft thought was less than Perfectly Proper.)” Good catering staff need to be aware of how to respond to all diners, including those who don’t have complete mastery of good table manners. Knowledge of the quarry is how hunters bag their trophies. And as Mrs. Wilson so sharply observed in Gosford Park, the gift of the perfect servant is anticipation.

Finally, a couple readers focused instead on the photograph of different wineglasses Etiquetteer dug up purely for illustration purposes****. Yes, that was a daunting array of shapes! You’ll be relieved to know that Letitia Baldrige Herself declares that for a formal dinner, only wineglasses for sherry, white wine, red wine, champagne, and water are needed*****. Even better, an “all-purpose wineglass” is all that's needed if you're serving only red or white. 

*Think fund-raiser or wedding banquet of 100 or more people.

** As Addison DeWitt so famously said to Eve Harrington, "When that alarm goes off, go to your battle stations."

***Etiquette: The Blue Book of Social Usage, by Emily Post, 1950

****It does make me wonder if any of Etiquetteer's 1,000+ Instagram followers ever click on the link in the bio . . . 

*****Letitia Baldrige's New Manners for New Times: A Complete Guide to Etiquette, 2003

Unwanted Glassware, Vol. 20, Issue 90

Dear Etiquetteer:

I’m not even sure why, but lately when I go out to restaurants I turn my wineglass upside down as a sign to the server that the glass can be cleared away. You know how restaurant tables can get crowded sometimes with too many dishes. This was my thought to help make some space.

Someone I had dinner with recently questioned what I was doing, and since I really don’t even know why I started doing this, I feel like I have to ask you if this is OK. So Etiquetteer, is it OK for me to turn my wineglass upside down if I don’t want any wine?

Dear Dining Without Wining:

An upside-down glass is not a universally recognized symbol for “Please take away this unwanted glass,” so you should stop doing this. Asking your waiter or waitress to remove it is more direct and Completely Unambiguous. In fact, depending on where you are in the world, an upside-down glass could have several different meanings according to Dear Kid Love Mom, including (in Australia) that you can fight anyone in the place and win. Not, Etiquetteer fancies, the message you’re trying to get across.

Etiquetteer is relieved to read that you’re only turning your glasses in restaurants, because to do so in a private home would be insulting to the hosts, implying that their hospitality was insufficient. The correct way to decline wine at a private dinner is to say “No thank you” or to shake your head. You may also cover your glass with your hand if the Threat of More Wine becomes imminent, but this is perhaps less common than hitherto.

Now it may happen that you end up with an unwanted glass of wine in front of you. Poor Fanny Logan* was faced with a rainbow of undrunk glasses, “the butler having paid no attention to my shakes of the head.” We must remember the Very Old Custom that the butler used to get all the undrunk wine after dinner as his perquisite. Yes, that does mean wine left in people’s glasses at table and not just what remained in open bottles, and yes, that does feel gross now in our more hygienic times. At any rate, this is not something to make a fuss about. Remember the words of Igor in Young Frankenstein: “Say nothing, act casual.”

Thanksgiving 2021 has come and gone, and Etiquetteer hopes You and Yours enjoyed a Great Feast of Perfect Propriety. Etiquetteer commented over on Instagram that one of the most American Thanksgiving traditions was to serve cranberry sauce in the shape of the can from whence it came. What could be more Perfectly Proper? Opinions were strongly pro and con! What do you think about it?

*In Nancy Mitford’s Love in a Cold Climate.

The Need for Poise, Vol. 20, Issue 89

“This is a test of breeding. Keep cool.” — Ellen Maury Slayden

“Expect three things to go wrong,” a Wise Old Gentleman once told Etiquetteer, a gentleman rich in hard-earned event planning experience. The first of the Great Feasts, Thanksgiving, takes place tomorrow*. As with anything long anticipated, everyone will come to the Feast with expectations: that certain people will be there, that the usual jokes and stories will be retold and laughed over, that familiar decorations will appear, that the food will look and taste as delicious as it always has, that everything will look and feel just as we want it and we’ll all leave feeling comforted, refreshed, and ready for a Nice Long Nap after eating too much.

And more often than not, that’s what happens. But we also need to be prepared for the unexpected: the missing ingredient, now unobtainable; the missing child, who might or might not be hiding under the bed; the broken glass, the stained tablecloth, the travel delays, the casserole that caught fire in the oven**, the political quarrel that caught fire at the table, etc. What gets us through all these obstacles to Perfect Propriety is Poise.

Poise, as defined by Merriam-Webster, is “easy self-possessed assurance of manner: gracious tact in coping or handling.” As the host or hostess of a Great Feast, it means keeping calm in the face of anything unexpected and knowing how to take charge to solve problems when necessary***. It means being able to brush off the small problems with solutions, and not to let the Perfect become the enemy of the Good. For instance, at Thanksgiving the timing of the turkey often seems to be an issue that many cooks think will make or break the timing — and the success — of the dinner. The ability to adjust plans while retaining a smile is Poise.

So many of the early etiquette writers — Etiquetteer is thinking specifically of Dorothy Draper and Lillian Eichler, but there were others — wrote about the kind of house that guests wanted to come back to, and it was always not the house where the hostess was furrowing her brow in anxious concentration, nervously thinking three steps ahead, visibly afraid of a mistake.

Yes, expectations are high this Thanksgiving, but Etiquetteer is here to tell you, whatever happens, it’s going to be OK. Your guests — so often family and friends who love you to begin with and want as much as you to help make the Great Feast truly great — are on your side and are not going to curse and fret if something goes wrong. And if they do, doesn’t that really say more about them?

So, hosts and hostesses of the Great Feasts, go forth smiling confidently! Whatever happens, your Thanksgiving will only be made more Perfectly Proper when you roll with the punches.

*Some have already occurred under the name Friendsgiving, which Etiquetteer thinks is very beautiful. Others will take place later in the weekend to accommodate travel and scheduling. But Thanksgiving Day is generally acknowledged as the Official Start of the Holiday Season.

**This actually just happened to Etiquetteer earlier this month. Were it not for a quick-thinking dinner guest who suppressed the flames with a cookie sheet, who knows what might have happened?

***Years ago at a large party Etiquetteer hosted a guest fell down a flight of stairs resulting in a bad cut. Etiquetteer, unusually clear-headed, was able to bring the guest off to the bathroom for disinfecting and bandaging.

An FDR Holiday Feast, Vol. 20, Issue 88

The Time of the Great Feasts is upon us, with Thanksgiving this week. This year Etiquetteer was reminded somehow of Henrietta Nesbitt, the White House Housekeeper We Love to Hate, and her account of Eleanor and Franklin Roosevelt’s large, boisterous, and traditional Thanksgivings and Christmases. It’s one thing to go down in History, but quite another to go down in History for doing your job badly. Eleanor Roosevelt brought Mrs. Nesbitt in 1933 to supervise the running of the White House. Alas, her only sterling qualification was that she was a capable baker. She was not a manager, or an expert on protocol, or even that knowledgeable about Washington. And she turned out to be very bossy and unimaginative about food, which led Roosevelt White House meals to be remembered as “undistinguished” at best.

Henrietta Nesbitt, left, with Eleanor Roosevelt and Harriet Elliott, taking the “Consumer Pledge for Total Defense” during World War II.

Her self-defensive memoir, White House Diary, includes valuable information about just what was served on the Roosevelt family’s White House table, including their Great Feasts. That family had a curious tradition Etiquetteer has been unable to find mentioned anywhere else: the sausage necklace. “The President loved the sight of a turkey. It had to come onto the table whole, so he could have the pleasure of carving, and the whole dinner was spoiled for him unless a necklace of little sausages was smoking all around the bird.” How many times did Mrs. Nesbitt forget the sausages to earn that knowledge?

“They had to be a certain kind of sausage,” she went on to say. Going through the Christmas dinner menu of 1933, she gives it as “deerfoot sausage.” What, sausage made out of venison? In fact no, Deerfoot Sausage is a now-defunct luxury brand of sausage. This 1933 Christmas menu is, Etiquetteer bets, representative of the Roosevelt Thanksgiving dinner, too. The 23 Roosevelts seated in the State Dining Room were served:

Clam Cocktail Saltines

Clear Soup Beaten Biscuit

Curled Celery* Stuffed Olives*

Filet of Fish Sauce Maréchale Sliced Cucumbers

Rolls

Roast Turkey Chestnut Dressing Deerfoot Sausages Cranberry Jelly

Creamed Onions Green Beans Candied Sweet Potatoes

Grape and Rubyette** Salad Cheese Straws

Plum Pudding Hard Sauce

Ice Cream

Small Cakes Cookies

Coffee

Candy*

Notice how unexceptional this menu is. Mrs. Nesbitt insisted “Plain American it was, the way the Roosevelts wanted it . . . roast turkey and plum pudding were traditional, and the Roosevelts didn’t want it any other way.” Doris Kearns Goodwin explains in her absorbing book No Ordinary Time: Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt: The Home Front in World War II that this was in part due to Eleanor’s lack of interest in food. “. . . she never thought about what she was eating. To her mind, good conversation created a good meal, and the food was secondary.” To which Etiquetteer can only respond with the words of the late Mrs. Stephen Haines: “They are equally important, darling.”

As you prepare for your own Great Feast this week, Etiquetteer wishes you Joy, as well as Ease and Expertise, in its preparation and presentation.

*These would have been on the table in small crystal or glass dishes.

**Rubyettes appear to be imitation maraschino cherries made from grapes. They have not been produced for decades now.

The Three Ps of Jury Duty, Vol. 20, Issue 87

Etiquetteer just spent a day fulfilling a Perfectly Proper Civic Obligation, jury duty, for the first time in three years*. This helped crystallize Etiquetteer’s Three Ps of Jury Duty: Preparation, Punctuality, and Patience. You will need them all.

PREPARATION

Jurors receive a questionnaire in advance of information the court finds helpful in assigning jurors to cases. For instance, they want to know whether you’ve been part of the justice system before, and in what capacity, and whether or not you’ve served on a jury before, things like that. It really really helps to fill that out in advance and bring it with you . . . which Etiquetteer did not, which the court officer made Etiquetteer do before assigning a juror number. Besides which, Etiquetteer was not the only person who forgot this Important Item. Let’s just say it creates a bottleneck at the entrance to the jury pool, so it’s best to remember it.

To save time in the morning, since jurors must be inside the jury pool by 8:00 AM, lay out your clothes the night before. You’ll need to pass through a metal detector at the courthouse entrance, so be aware of how much metal you’re wearing or carrying. Gentlemen Who Love Cufflinks may wish to reconsider that shirt with French cuffs.

The reminder message sent by the court indicated that “jurors may bring cell phones and laptops, although most courts do not have wifi. You may also wish to bring reading material, snacks, a beverage, and cash for parking or food.” Since you have to bring all your belongings with you wherever you go in the courthouse, you may want to assess what you’ll really need and travel light.

PUNCTUALITY

The court is serious about jurors being in the jury pool by 8:00 AM, so know where you’re going, know how you’re getting there (and where you can park, if you’re driving), and give yourself time. The court officers also do their best to keep jurors informed about just what is going on elsewhere in the courthouse, over which they have no control, which brings Etiquetteer to . . .

PATIENCE

Most of jury duty is sitting around in a room waiting for Seemingly Indefinite Periods, whether that’s in the jury pool, a courtroom where a jury is being impaneled, or another courtroom where prospective jurors might be asked to wait. It can feel mind numbing, or end numbing depending your chair**. Really, bring a book that will engage you for some time, and you’ll endure with a bit more equanimity. “The wheels of Justice grind slow and fine”***, and your day(s) in the courthouse will be no different.

Etiquetteer was also touched to see small kindnesses among jurors, such as listening patiently to questions and concerns from other jurors who hadn’t served before. One gentleman held the door for a long line of jurors passing from one courtroom to another, earning the thanks of all. These small courtesies help to make jury service pass more pleasantly.

This time around Etiquetteer was released before being impaneled — Massachusetts has “one day/one trial” jury duty — but previous experience on juries proved that Patience is just as essential during a trial and jury deliberations.

Finally, the proceedings of a courtroom, the workings of Justice — these are important parts of civic life in a democracy, and Etiquetteer considers it Perfectly Proper to dress respectably to reflect that importance. Not everyone can manage a suit and tie, but surely we can do better than tights and sweatshirts.

Should you be summoned, Etiquetteer wishes you an edifying and Perfectly Proper jury duty.

The jury deliberates in Reefer Madness. (1936)

*In Massachusetts jurors may not be summoned earlier than three years after their last jury service. The court system managed to summon Etiquetteer three years and two months after last service.

**Etiquetteer is not a fan of the pews they have in the Suffolk County Courthouse.

***Who said this?! Etiquetteer cannot find the reference.

Holiday Card Checklist, Vol. 20, Issue 86

With Thanksgiving looming ever closer in the rearview mirror, that means the time of holiday cards is getting closer, too. Whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or just New Year’s Day,* it might be helpful to review just what you’re going to need to Get the Job Done.

• Names and addresses. Have your list of names and accurate addresses ready to go, which could mean filling in some blanks (some loved ones are just so pesky, moving across country or someplace all the time). Get started on that first so that your card writing won’t get interrupted.

• Holiday Greeting Cards of Your Choice. Whether you are doing something highly personalized with family photos (Etiquetteer loves those) or just a couple boxes of small colorful cards from the drugstore (Etiquetteer loves those, too), get enough for your list — and a few more for when your pen slips or you mispell someone’s name accidentally. Rumors to the contrary, you don’t have to send everyone on your list the same kind of card.

• Postage stamps. Sweet mercy goodness, it’s frustrating to run out of stamps once you really get going. Order now from the USPS, or head to your local post office. Or order personalized postage stamps with an image of your choice.

• Pens. Some people have a favorite pen they love to use, others just grab a ballpoint, but have a couple extras where you can find them. Some people like to go wild with inks in holiday colors, but remember that good Perfectly Proper blue-black ink is kindest to the eyes. You don’t want people to struggle reading your message. (This might also have something to do with your handwriting . . . )

• Something to say. Even if it’s just “Dear [Insert Name Here], Love, Me,” you need to write something your own self so that your recipients will believe your card didn’t come from a soulless machine.

• A Perfectly Proper Spirit. It is easy to think of sending holiday cards as drudgery, especially with so many other claims on one’s time during the season. The task will feel lighter as you give yourself time to remember each person you’re addressing, and why. Allow yourself enough time over as many days as you need to send all your cards by . . . January 6, Twelfth Night, the Twelfth Day of Christmas. Now Etiquetteer knows almost everyone would rather get the cards out by Christmas Day, December 25, and that’s absolutely fine. But just in case you don’t, you do have a buffer.

Etiquetteer wishes you comfort and joy, and Perfect Propriety, as you prepare to send Greetings of Love to those you love.

*Really, Etiquetteer thinks we should return to the time when New Year’s Day was more celebrated than New Year’s Eve and Christmas.

Using the Good Stuff, Vol. 20, Issue 85

The winter holidays approach us quickly now, the Times of the Great Feasts, starting with Thanksgiving on November 25. For many this will be the first time to participate in a large gathering since the start of the pandemic in early 2020, which means a lot of hosts and hostesses will be unearthing the good stuff to celebrate. So after all this time, it’s worth mentioning a few things to guide the preparation.

Get started now. Truly, it will save you a lot of heartache if you know that you have what you need where you need it beforehand, so that you can respond with greater Perfect Propriety to the last-minute things that always happen. As Dear Mother used to say, “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.”

Inventory what you have based on the number of people coming. While the Great Feasts in America are often a comfortable combination of formal tables and casual clothes, the table can’t be set too casually. Count each element of the your table settings — water and wine glasses, necessary china and silver for each course — so that each person has what they need. Assign chipped or otherwise damaged pieces to your place setting. It’s not unusual, and quite proper, to fill in from whatever you have in the house to accommodate all your guests. For these Great Feasts, everyone understands, and it isn’t as though it was a state dinner.

Polish the silver. Emily Post Herself always said “Have silver that shines or none at all!” And she meant business. Tarnished silver looks like it might not actually be clean, and you don’t want your company to feel they are dining at an unsanitary table. It’s best to bring out the silver a couple weeks in advance so you have plenty of time, if needed. But usually properly stored silver just needs a glance for reassurance, with only a few pieces in need of serious polishing.

Mitigate possible damage. Etiquetteer will back you up if you prefer to serve children on paper plates, etc. especially children under, say ten years of age. Table linens always seem to be most at risk during the Great Feasts. Along with childhood table manners, both red wine and cranberry sauce leave indelible memories on white damask. Etiquetteer has two possible solutions for Table Linen Protection. The first: put sheet glass over your tabletop. Admittedly this is an extreme solution with its own risks, but if Elsie de Wolfe could get away with it in the private dining rooms at the Colony Club, Etiquetteer sees no reason for us not to attempt it at home. The second solution is to put a placemat atop the tablecloth at each place setting. There are pros and cons to this, too, and traditionalists might start howling in rage that it’s even suggested. But Etiquetteer cannot find a specific prohibition against it any of the standard works, so if placemats will help you feel better about using an heirloom tablecloth, have at it. Just make sure everything coordinates.

Finally, accept that damage may happen. Etiquetteer can’t help but remember Hepzibah Pyncheon getting out the old Chinese teacups when cousin Phoebe came to visit*. “Your great-great-great-great-grandmother had these cups, when she was married,” said Hepzibah to Phœbe. “. . . They were almost the first teacups ever seen in the colony; and if one of them were to be broken, my heart would break with it. But it is nonsense to speak so about a brittle teacup, when I remember what my heart has gone through without breaking.” We all care about our Good Stuff, but really dahlings, life is for living. If someone breaks a glass or spills the entire gravy boat on the tablecloth, these are just sacrifices on the altar of Hospitality. And if you can’t accept the risk, then Etiquetteer can only consign you to “the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears**.”

Etiquetteer wishes you joy in the preparation, execution, and fellowship of whatever Great Feast might be in store for you.

*In Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The House of the Seven Gables, of course.

**From Kahlil Gibran’s “On Love” in The Prophet.

Post-Emergency Gratitude, Vol. 20, Issue 84

Dear Etiquetteer:

How does one thank a medical care team these days? I'm not sure what’s appropriate or welcome these days. Recently, I quite unexpectedly found myself in the hospital for a couple of days after a surprise emergency. The nursing staff took such good care of me; I want them to know how much I appreciate their kindness and patience.

Secondly, my neighbors have absolutely been amazing, the other half of my medical care team. This is just a short list; other neighbors have been just as wonderful.

• B brought me first to the emergency room and then to the hospital. She also served as “communications officer” for my other neighbor and my family. She picked me up when I was discharged and later that afternoon brought over three fully prepared dinners. Her career was in healthcare, and her help and advice have been invaluable.

• D brought me a lovely plant when I got home, cleaned up the mess I’d left in the kitchen while I was hospitalized, and has also brought more meals for me. If she’s going anywhere she checks in to see if I need anything from the store.

• G came yesterday with a small gift and another dinner, and dessert (!).

I realize the best repayment is to “pay it forward” and I have every intention of doing so. In the mean time I'd like to express my gratitude in a more tangible way to the hospital staff and everyone for everything they've done.

Dear Recovering:

First, let Etiquetteer rejoice at your salvation from medical distress, and wish you the most Perfectly Proper recovery.

Paying it forward to others is indeed a Perfectly Proper thing to do, but so is paying it back; these two forms of Gratitude are not mutually exclusive. And especially since the coronavirus pandemic has strained medical staff worldwide, that’s a community that really needs to feel personal appreciation right now.

A Lovely Note is always heartfelt and Perfectly Proper, but if handwriting is too taxing at this early stage of your recovery, then you must be content to share your thanks verbally, or ask someone to take dictation for you. For your medical team, however, Etiquetteer definitely wants to suggest gifts of edible treats that can be shared in the break room or nursing station, with a note that can be tacked onto the bulletin board. Whether you send a big hamper of gourmet snacks, a sheet cake, chocolates, or big boxes of fresh doughnuts, they will be appreciated. Depending on the number, you might want to do individual gifts — but be sure no one has been left out*. As important is a Glowing Letter of Gratitude sent to the hospital CEO or other leader. You’ll find additional suggestions from the pros at Nursing Home Volunteer.

Your neighbors sound absolutely wonderful! Etiquetteer suspects you know each of them well enough to know what kinds of things they like, whether books or plants or foodstuffs. Otherwise, flowers are always Perfectly Proper, and an arrangement from your local florist would be a treat that few people ever order for themselves.

Etiquetteer wishes you well as you pay it back and forward, and to the continuance of your good health.

*When Dear Father was living in residential nursing care, Dear Mother would prepare individual little gifts for every member of the staff who worked with him — but she was there every day for months and knew them all. Your hospital stay may have kept you from meeting all the staff involved in your care.

Gift Giving, Vol. 20, Issue 83

Dear Etiquetteer:

I have been exchanging Christmas gifts with a friend for many years. In recent years this person has started to give much more expensive gifts and I feel that I have to reciprocate with a gift of the same value. I’m really not comfortable having this trend of increasingly expensive gifts continue.

Is there a polite way to suggest that we place a cap on the cost of gifts we exchange? Or will I just sound ungrateful?

Dear Gifted:

Your query certainly does bring fresh meaning to the old phrase “Oh darling, you shouldn’t have.” Sometimes it feels like a Competitive Edge can creep into the Joy of Exchanging Holiday Gifts with Loved Ones, especially when the difference in value becomes too great. Etiquetteer doesn’t immediately believe that more extravagant gift-givers are trying to show off or one-up their recipients. It’s quite possible they found something perfect for you that just cost a little more, or that Circumstances Unknown enabled them to be more generous.

But first of all, it is not, and never has been — no matter what anyone tells you — necessary to reciprocate with a gift of equal or greater value. You don’t even have to reciprocate with a gift! People forget this. All that’s strictly necessary is Written Thanks, preferably in the form of a Lovely Note. Don’t allow your friend’s Gifts of Greater Value to make you feel that your gifts are Less Than.

There are few different paths you can take:

• Maintain the status quo, say nothing, send a Lovely Note of Thanks, and allow your own discomfort to fester.

• Talk frankly with your friend about how much you have appreciated exchanging gifts all these years, but that you value your friendship more than any expensive gift. Suggest that you emphasize the greater value of your emotional bond with gifts that are less expensive.

• Suggest that you’re really moving away from gift-giving altogether and call a halt to your yearslong tradition.

Now obviously Etiquetteer prefers the second approach, but as you yourself recognize, it needs to be made in a way that does express gratitude for previous Gifts of Greater Value. You should be careful, too, not to devalue your own gifts, because this isn’t a comparison. The message you want to get across is not “I’m embarrassed that my gifts cost less than yours” but “Let’s celebrate our friendship more lightly.” You can then “open the bidding” with a suggested dollar amount; expect to negotiate this.

One possible way to reinforce an inexpensive gift’s true value is to share that you still value it. Etiquetteer has received Gifts of Nominal Value from dear friends — a small box, a letter opener, a garlic press, a pair of novelty socks, a handmade Christmas ornament, to give only a few examples — that have brought years of Joy far beyond whatever was paid for them. At a different time, you can bring up that you still use [Insert Previous Gift of Nominal Value Here] and always associate it happily with your friend.

Etiquetteer wishes you and your friend a stronger exchange of happiness this holiday season.

Visually Impaired Students Respond, Vol. 20, Issue 82

Etiquetteer yields the floor today to the Educator who asked about Hallowe’en challenges for the visually impaired, and the students she engaged in expanding on Etiquetteer’s advice. Etiquetteer had no idea there was a difference between getting pranked and getting punked. Read on for an enlightening perspective.

Dear Etiquetteer: 

Thank you so much for answering my student's questions about Halloween challenges in your recent column. With their permission, I would like to share with you their thoughts. My lessons/self-advocacy coaching sessions were with a fourth grader, two middle schoolers, and a high school senior. 

Every one of these students made it a point to first commend you for writing in a respectful and understanding manner regarding their vision. They commented that sometimes people think they are conveying understanding when, in fact, they are “talking down” to people in different situations. My students were especially appreciative of you not talking around the fact that, yes, they can’t see, and that makes them vulnerable, and yes, it is OK to talk about that. 

The fourth grader thought the plan to turn the joke back on the trickster was a great idea. We rehearsed “things to say” a la Cyrano de Bergerac. It was great fun. The parent called me later to tell me they were entertained and comforted by additional rehearsals the student presented in the car ride home. 

The middle schoolers and the senior all felt your suggestions were “solid.” But they all also chided me because they felt the way I worded the question made it seem like they were “really wrecked” by the pranking. When I asked them to explain, they said “It’s not like we are talking about getting punked.” And that got to the crux of the issue about bullying.

My older students and I were unable to determine if it is generational, geographical (we are in the Deep South), or cultural, but we all differentiate between getting pranked and getting punked. The middle schoolers defined a prank as a joke that is meant to be funny to everyone, especially the target [emphasis Etiquetteer's]. They said it should not cause any damage or hurt anyone. The example they gave was wrapping each individual thing on someone’s desk in paper and bows to celebrate a birthday. Yes, some inconvenience, but no permanent damage. The senior had the most concise explanation of being “punked.” “Punking is when you play a trick so someone feels bad on purpose and then everybody else laughs at them. Punking someone is really mean.” All expressed that a prank lets you know people like you and being punked tells you that you are not part of the group. 

I pressed this distinction further and asked if it was ever OK to punk someone. The senior said “Yes, sometimes that is the only way to stop them from hurting others.” They gave the example of punking a criminal with a fake contest win location that was actually where they got arrested when they showed up. 

I asked the middle schoolers and the senior what happens when someone thinks they are pranking you, but they are hurting you. All three said that you have to tell people when they go to far. [Emphasis Etiquetteer’s.] “People can’t read your mind. You have to stand up for yourself and let people know when they are uncool. If they do it again, then you know you are not friends.” All three students suggested the best course of action was to not waste time on people who are proven not to be friends. 

Which brings us to wisdom that the senior offered to people who have had so many bad experiences. She expressed empathy and said that it can be hard when you have so many bad things happen. But, she said you can’t judge everyone the same, especially new people in your life. “You have to give people a chance to share their type of humor and friendstyle. And then you have to share yours back so you can understand each other's boundaries. People make mistakes.”

I never cease to be amazed at recent generations of young adults. They are so much more self aware than I was at the same stage of life. I wish everyone could have interactions like I do with these fresh minds. The world may be all topsy turvy, but I really do think the kids, and subsequently Halloween, are all right. 

May your Halloween be fun!

Etiquetteer responds:

Thank you very much for this thoughtful expansion of the original column. It proves that we all have more to learn every day, no matter how old, and that almost every issue has facets not always visible. The difference between getting pranked and punked, for instance, Etiquetteer would never even have conceived. As Flora Robson so memorably said in Fire Over England, “Thus we learn.”

Your students rightly observe that “you have to tell people when they go to far.” But what happens when you do communicate that and nothing changes? What happens when you share this with teachers, counselors, parents — the Adults in the Room — and don’t get support, and nothing changes? Quite possibly the worst advice Young Etiquetteer ever got from a Responsible Adult was “If they knew better, they’d do better.” This defines Cold Comfort because it excuses the behavior of the bullies without doing anything to stop it.

There are no guaranteed solutions, especially when bullying is permitted or encouraged. Continued advocacy and communication are the tools we have. We need to keep using them.

And with that, Etiquetteer would like to wish you all a safe, happy, and Perfectly Proper Hallowe’en!

Taking a Pass on Hallowe'en, Vol. 20, Issue 81

This second COVID Hallowe’en is giving a few people pause about how much revelry they really want to include, and Etiquetteer is here to tell you that it’s Perfectly Proper and Absolutely Acceptable to turn down all those party invitations and just stay home if you prefer.

A reader reached out to share some hesitation about traveling to a Destination Famous for Seasonal Revelry this Hallowe’en weekend. “I’m trying not to be a Debbie Downer,” this message began, before expressing a lot of anxiety about overcrowded venues, lots of costume masks without COVID masks, and alcohol leading to poor choices. “I can’t bring myself to be OK with that.”

And do you know how Etiquetteer responded? “That’s not being Debbie Downer, that’s being Wendy Wise.” The pandemic is not over, and many people are just not ready to plunge back into Before Times Behavior. This is also an important reminder that there’s more than one way to observe a holiday. Hallowe’en with four people telling ghost stories and/or fortunes in a room lit only by candles is no less Perfectly Proper than a masked ball for hundreds. Don’t let the dreaded FOMO* Monster haunt your Hallowe’en! However you choose to spend it is absolutely right. Don’t feel lessened because your choice isn’t for something else.

If you are planning a more intimate at-home Hallowe’en, take the time to decorate. You don’t have to go full-on Mamie Eisenhower and stuff towers of cornstalks and skeletons in every corner and so on if that’s not your thing. But candlelight, besides throwing spooky shadows, makes everyone look more beautiful. And jack o’lanterns, plain old pumpkins, scatterings of candy corn, and the colors red, orange, and black, create a Perfectly Festive Atmosphere.

Etiquetteer wishes you a beautiful and Perfectly Proper Hallowe’en fighting off the FOMO Monster.

*Fear of Missing Out.

Hallowe'en for the Visually Impaired, Vol. 20, Issue 80

Dear Etiquetteer:

I enjoy your blog and Instagram feed very much. It has been the source of numerous inspirations for lesson plans for my students. In anticipation of October activities, I have questions about perfectly proper deportment for Halloween. I work with visually impaired students, and I need to know how to make Halloween easier for them, because pranks can get out of hand.

How does one mitigate unwelcome relaxation of etiquette for supposed humorous tricks? My students often get "jump scare" pranks directed at them by otherwise caring friends and family members at community events or family gatherings. It is perceived that they are easy to sneak up on and get big reactions from due to compromised sight. Younger people usually get a pass at being visibly upset. But the young adults I work with are called poor sports when they voice objections to being prank targets. 

How should one decline a treat? These young adults also are navigating their first "grown-up" social occasions and are leary of being offered confections which are not easily identifiable, and therefore are possible prank situations. Typically, their struggle is choosing between becoming vulnerable to a trick versus offending the host by rejecting what they have prepared. 

Additionally, they worry about polite ways to ask costumed revelers to identify themselves as festive attire often makes for hidden identities from the perspective of people used to relying on generalized cues such as silhouettes or profiles and signature accessories. I have explained that these are concerns for many people and are part of navigating the overall Halloween experience. 

These specific scenarios seem to be annual concerns for each group of high school seniors I work with. 

Dear Educator:

Etiquetteer cannot even pretend to have your experience working with the visually impaired, and was going to turn to the experts for Chapter and Verse on this subject. But the Hallowe’en pages at Perkins School for the Blind, Society for the Blind, and Braille Works are geared toward much younger children and trick-or-treating, and not teens, young adults, and parties. So, let’s break some ground together!

By design, Hallowe’en makes the familiar unfamiliar and a bit sinister. Part of its celebration is to revel in scaring and being scared. And that's one thing if you have all your faculties to begin with, but quite another if your eyesight or mobility is compromised. So the first thing we need to establish is quite clear: it’s not good sportsmanship to prank someone who can’t respond in kind. The visually impaired have far less ability to sneak up on the rest of us and yell “Boo!” or put a bug in our drinks.

The question really is how to turn a disadvantage, vision impairment, into a strength. And the way to do that is with Laughter and Gentle Mockery. How would it be if, after having been pranked, they remarked “Oh, my disguise must be really good this year! You didn’t know it was me and that I wouldn’t be able to prank you back” or “Oh, no fair! I’m no challenge. You need to try that on someone else who can really come back at you.” These responses need to be kept light, and delivered with some laughter, because as you point out, it’s easy to get tagged as a spoilsport*. More importantly, this moves the focus from the pranked being frightened to the prankster making a cowardly choice. Yes, this does require keeping your wits about you, which Etiquetteer admits is a challenge.

When offered refreshments, your students might ask what’s in it, and even explain candidly (depending on their trust level) “Hallowe’en throws off all my visual cues. I can’t quite make out what it is.” A cookie shaped like a spider usually is not made with spiders, etc. On the very rare chance that they do end up with a prank treat, the key is not to over-react — because that’s what the pranksters want. Remove it from your mouth — restrain any urge to spit it at them — and respond as good-naturedly as possible “Oh, it’s easy to fool me. I hope you have better luck with someone who can really tell what they’re getting into.” This should instill a healthy sense of guilt into the prankster — but again, it needs to be kept light.

The playing field is perhaps more level where disguise is concerned, as even a simple mask can throw off someone with the keenest eyesight. Etiquetteer got through an entire office Hallowe’en party once without realizing that the “corrections officer” he was talking to was really the woman who sat two cubicles away. The point of a disguise is to fool everyone, not only the visually impaired. But at most traditional Hallowe’en parties, there comes a time of unmasking**, and after that Etiquetteer would think it Perfectly Proper for your students to ask “The time has come, and you’re going to have to help me figure out who you are.”

Otherwise — and this is Perfectly Proper for everyone — don’t badmouth anybody, because they, or their closest friends, could be disguised within earshot. Etiquetteer considers mild flirtation permissible, but the emphasis is on mild. And finally, just as young children are encouraged to trick-or-treat in groups, your students might head to parties in a group — perhaps even in a themed costume*** — to be supportive in case someone does get pranked.

Etiquetteer wishes you and your students a safe, fun, and Perfectly Proper Hallowe’en!

*Also unjust, but there you are.

**Midnight is traditional, but not all parties go that long, and there are Those People who just don’t want to wear a mask to begin with who take it off five minutes after arriving.

***Many years ago Etiquetteer and eight friends went as the Hollywood sign to a costume party, which just involved tuxedos and large Styrofoam letters. Simple and easy.

Etiquetteer Reviews What Have We Here?, Vol. 20, Issue 79

Necessity may be the mother of Invention, but Fashion is often the wanton mother of Necessity. That’s how we end up with so much stuff. How many of us have rummaged through a drawer at Grandmother’s house, come across some bizarre silver doodad and asked “What on earth is this?” Maura J. Graber has lovingly compiled many of the answers in her new book What Have We Here? using oddities from her own extensive silver collection. Anyone interested in Victorian dinner parties will want to give this a look.

Nineteenth-century silversmithing innovations and middle-class aspirations brought highly specific service pieces, from bonbon spoons with wide, pierced bowls, to long narrow marrow spoons for bone marrow. Mrs. Graber lobs these at us, and much more: mote spoons for afternoon tea, macaroni servers with short wide tines, three-tined corn forks, enormous bread forks like Neptune’s trident, sugar sifters, butter servers with shark-like tines, and on and on. The most unusual, a manche a gigot, is a French fork used to steady a leg of lamb while carving. One has to wonder why an ordinary carving fork wouldn’t work as well.

We think of the Victorian era as being very solid and forthright, and yet its fashions changed — albeit slower than ours. Tableware “fashion victims” Mrs. Graber shares with us include the celery vase (the vogue for only 20 years), special asparagus plates, when that estimable vegetable was more honored than today, and silver orange cups for breakfast service of halved oranges.

Odd bits of china also come up for inspection and interpretation, including the once-fashionable crescent side plate. This 19th-century innovation got started in England to keep the salad separate from the meat (whether roast or game), but eventually also got used for salad or bread and butter. China terrapin pots have their own lids because turtle soup had to be served very hot. (Etiquetteer wrote about turtle soup earlier in Volume 20.) Etiquetteer had never heard of a “true trio set,” a saucer that came with both a teacup and a larger coffee cup — so that only one saucer was needed.

To Etiquetteer’s delight, Mrs. Graber includes a couple pages on mustache cups. Fashion decreed exuberant facial hair for gentlemen Back in the Day, which resulted in tea and coffee cups with built-in guards to protect them from liquids. Her collection includes a lot more mustache gear, from spoons (“noiseless soup spoons”), tiny mustache combs, a curler (like a very small curling iron), and even — Etiquetteer just could not believe this — little silver mustache clips for a gent to keep his facial hair completely out of his dinner! But Etiquetteer can’t conceive of this being Perfectly Proper when dining out; it would be like a lady leaving the house with her hair in curlers.

Throughout the book are sprinkled period (and current) bits of manners and trivia, but Mrs. Graber’s “napkin burrito” is worth special mention. In a brief section on glove etiquette, she revisits Emily Post’s advice to ladies at dinner on how to secure gloves, bag, and fan on their laps so that they wouldn’t slip to the floor. Etiquetteer considers identifying this as a burrito a colorful bit of genius . . . but it still leaves the problem of not being able to use your napkin as a napkin.

Etiquetteer takes mild issue with the frequent use of “spork” in What Have We Here? because it’s not of the era. While today we describe spoons with tines as sporks, the word spork really did not come into common usage until the 1970s, decades after these items were invented. The utensil identified as a spork with the terrapin pot is properly a terrapin fork, though it is decidedly sporkish.

Reading this book is like rummaging through the dining room with a favorite neighbor, and all that’s needed is a good hot chocolate (served in a trembleuse) and a dish of bonbons (with bonbon spoon). Certainly when you get to the last page, you’ll want to say “I can’t wait til we do this again!” It’s a wonderful addition to an etiquette library.

Liqueurs, Vol. 20, Issue 78

““Gabrielle has a cognac so old and precious that we keep it locked in a cabinet behind the piano.”

— from The Old Beauty, by Willa Cather

Since yesterday was National Liqueur Day, it makes sense to review the Perfectly Proper service of after-dinner liqueurs.

After a mid-century formal dinner, coffee, cigarettes, and liqueurs would all have been passed at the same time, coffee first — to the ladies in the drawing room, and to the gentlemen wherever they ended up: smoking room, study, or back in the dining room. Emily Post segregated beverages as well as genders. She noted that port and “especially fine cognac” would be served only to the gentlemen*, while the ladies would be offered no more than three liqueurs, decanted into small decanters on a tray with rows of little glasses. Mrs. Post suggested “The fashionable list includes cognac always, and two others: Chartreuse and Benedictine, or kümmel or green mint, or Cointreau.”

Millicent Fenwick is actually more helpful in her Vogue’s Book of Etiquette from 1948. While she notes that informal dinners don’t often include liqueurs, at formal dinners “they follow the coffee almost as inevitably as the coffee follows the dinner itself.” She notes that liqueurs might be served from their own bottles and not from decanters, but her list includes only five: brandy, crème de menthe**, Cointreau, Chartreuse, and “fruit brandies,” noting that cherry and apricot brandy were most popular. Please note that the glasses are not brought in pre-poured. Whoever is serving (the butler, or more likely the host now) pours after asking the guest’s choice.

In this century Etiquetteer doesn’t think we have to be quite so rigid in our choices, and yet it’s still a good idea not to offer more than two or three, and to consider only liqueurs that aren’t known mostly as cocktail ingredients. For instance, green crème de menthe is a traditional after-dinner liqueur, but blue Curaçao belongs only in the blender or a pousse-café.

Etiquetteer would suggest choosing two or three of the following for your after-dinner service: Averna, Benedictine, Chambord (a personal favorite), Chartreuse (green or yellow), cherry heering, Cointreau, crème de menthe (of course, but you’ll need to have shaved ice for the liqueur glasses), Drambuie, Fernet Branca, Frangelico, Grand Marnier, limoncello (especially if homemade), maraschino, and Sambuca (but only if you serve with three coffee beans.) Anything defined as a digestif may be served with Perfect Propriety as a liqueur. Etiquetteer discovered Becherovka while traveling and offers it from time to time.

But some liqueurs are best enjoyed as components of other beverages and not by themselves after dinner, at least in Etiquetteer’s opinion: absinthe (more an apértif), Aperol, any coffee liqueur (since coffee is also being served, unless Kahlua served in the coffee), crème de banana, crème de cacao, crème de cassis (really an apértif, and more often found in a Perfectly Proper kir with white wine), crème de coconut, crème de noyaux, crème de violette, Jagermeister***, Midori (the 1980s are over!), sloe gin, triple sec, etc. Basically, if you can’t imagine drinking it by itself, don’t serve it as a liqueur. A fairly comprehensive liqueur list may be found here at the Spruce Eats.

Etiquetteer’s list must inevitably conclude with possibly the most famous liqueur reference of the 20th century, Southern Comfort. Blanche DuBois correctly identified it as a liqueur (for all the good it did her, poor darling****), but you might say that Janis Joplin’s ahem open enjoyment of SoCo left it ahem not suitable for occasions demanding Perfect Propriety. When you have to drive your Chevy to the levee, pick up a bottle and drive responsibly.

But back to our formal dinner. Liqueurs are served in small glasses, but that doesn’t mean they should be tossed off in one snort. Savor them sip by sip. If you aren’t offered something you prefer, the correct response is “No thank you,” not “Do you have something else?”

And with that, allow Etiquetteer to wish you a beautiful, beautiful little dinner.

Janis Joplin hoisting her favorite liqueur. As Edward G. Robinson said in Double Indemnity, “Margie . . . I’ll bet she drinks from the bottle.”

*Fanny, the narrator of Nancy Mitford’s delightful Love in a Cold Climate, noted with chagrin that “the one good item of the whole menu, excellent vintage port,” was served to the gentlemen only after the ladies had retired. Etiquetteer calls this unjust to the ladies.

**The elderly Southern ladies of Etiquetteer’s childhood always had a bottle of green crème de menthe hidden away to serve over vanilla ice cream. Often there would be a bottle of Taylor sherry next to it . . . not to serve over vanilla ice cream.

***Although Jagermeister is a digestif, when Etiquetteer was much younger and in somewhat more scandalous company, Etiquetteer took a Jagermeister belly shot and never quite recovered from the experience. Let’s just call this a personal preference.

****In this famous clip, Vivien Leigh says “Southern Cheer,” but that is undoubtedly to avoid copyright or something tedious. The original script by Tennessee Williams definitely said “Southern Comfort.”

Random Issues, Vol. 20, Issue 77

Dear Etiquetteer:

When do you offer to have something cleaned because you've spilled and when do you just apologize profusely?

Dear Etiquetteer:

This . . . this is a painful query, because Etiquetteer once, all too memorably, spilled a great deal of red wine all over a lady’s ice blue satin pantsuit. (You may read about that here.) That it occurred near the end of intermission at a theatre only heightened the tension. In the confusion, Etiquetteer surely said “I am SO SORRY! Please send the bill to me!” But you may be sure that the next day Etiquetteer had a dozen roses delivered — wine red, of course. (Is it worse, or better, to spill on someone you already know? Etiquetteer is not quite sure. This experience was humiliating in the extreme.)

So there are degrees of magnitude. If you spill a bit of red wine on a white tablecloth and immediately cover it with salt (the Perfectly Proper solution), no offer to dry clean need be forthcoming. Etiquetteer thinks of table linen damage as the Price of a Good Time for the hosts. Spilling a full plate of lasagna or guacamole or cheese dip on the carpet, however, requires remuneration. But since it is also extremely rare for the schlimazel* actually to send a bill, flowers or a Thoughtful Gift with a Perfectly Proper Lovely Note of Contrition should follow the very next day.

Dear Etiquetteer:

I have to sound off about being polite when it comes to your food sensitivities. I'm in [Insert State in the Pacific Northwest Here]. Everybody's got some food they can't or won't eat (gluten, dairy, sugar, meat, etc.). Mine is garlic. I don't go into anaphylactic shock but it makes me very ill, usually at 1:30 AM. I don't make a big deal about it unless it's someone I know very well. But I've seen people who seem to get angry or those who look and act so hurt that they have nothing to eat because the host didn't telepathically know about their food issues. 

If I'm not sure about the menu I eat before I go so that I'm not starving. If I can ask in advance and they're serving the Feast of the Twelve Fishes in garlic sauce, I decline the invitation. 

Friends of mine host a Christmas gathering every year and they had a guest insist she must have gluten free food. They spent extra money and time making sure she had something to eat, and then she didn't even attend. In my training, I learned the trick of pushing your food around the plate to make it look like you've eaten. You just have to make sure no one notices.

Dear Gustatory Again:

It's great that medical science has kept people from dying by learning more about food allergies. Etiquetteer has a lot of compassion for those who must be extra-rigorous about what they do (and don't) consume, because that level of vigilance must wear a person down. 

But this new knowledge has led a few bad apples to consider the world their restaurant where they can order what they want, and how to prepare it, with impunity. People forget that private hospitality is extended (and accepted) for the pleasure of one's company first. The refreshments are incidental. Yes, of course it's disappointing to be invited for a meal and not be able to eat it, but the meal is only the framework for the real purpose, connection and conversation.

What’s the most Perfectly Proper response when invited to a dinner you can’t eat? Grin, bear it, and keep on talking. Ellen Maury Slayden remembered inviting a Senator and his wife to a dinner at home that turned out to be inedible because the cook was having a bad night and the butler used paraffin on the salad instead of salad oil. Oopsie! But the Senator “stayed him with flagons and comforted him with salted almonds**” and kept telling amusing stories that Mrs. Slayden said “diverted me from my humiliation.***” What could be more Perfectly Proper? Etiquetteer feels sure the Senator and his wife managed to find something to eat at home later.

The non-appearance of your friends' Insistent Gluten-Free Guest dismays Etiquetteer. Unfortunately this gives a bad rep to Responsible Gluten-Free Guests who do show up after making their needs known. The word "insist" is what dismays Etiquetteer most. If you aren't even going to come, why make such a fuss? That person would not be invited back to Etiquetteer's house, you may be sure.

The Perfectly Proper language, by the way, if pressed on why you are declining a dish (and it's rude to ask why to begin with), is to say only "It disagrees with me" or, in extreme instances, "It disagrees with me violently. I'd rather not go into detail." No one really wants to know about what happens at 1:30 AM after a garlicked entrée. 

Etiquetteer wishes you a Perfectly Proper and Perfectly Palatable evening.

*Remember, it’s the schlemiel who spills the chicken soup, and the schlimazel on whom the chicken soup is spilt.

**Mrs. Slayden was paraphrasing Song of Solomon 2:5, “Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples . . . “ Note that this was in the era when nut dishes were common on formal dinner tables.

***Washington Wife: The Journal of Ellen Maury Slayden 1897-1919, edited by Walter Prescott Webb

Notes on Handbags, Vol. 20, Issue 76

If it’s October 10, that means it’s National Handbag Day, which Etiquetteer loves to observe with Edith Evans as Lady Bracknell. She, even more than Miss Prism, knew the value of a good, sturdy handbag, as well as its proper place. That might have been a coat tree, but it was never a family tree.

A Perfectly Proper handbag should be carried in such a way that it doesn’t get in anyone else’s way. That means holding it so that it remains parallel to your body, not perpendicular*. If you’re carrying it in your hand, that means just carrying it, not swinging it back and forth like Maria’s hamper in The Sound of Music. If you’re going to carry it on your elbow, that means inserting your arm through the handles from the outside in to keep your handbag close to you. Or from the inside out. Etiquetteer has tested out both methods with available tote bags, and it seems to depend on the handles. Most frustrating.

Lana Del Rey demonstrates the Perfectly Proper way to carry a handbag on one’s elbow.

A Perfectly Proper handbag can take you anywhere, but once you’re there, you can’t just put it down anywhere. Especially tabletops, whether in restaurants or conference rooms. If you need to get something from it, place it in your lap. Candace Smith over at Candace Smith Etiquette has even more ideas about where to position your handbag.

Organize the inside so you can get what you need with a minimum of fuss. Etiquetteer will never forget an opera performance at which a nearby woman spent most of the second act unzipping every secret pocket in her purse looking for a breath mint. That she was wearing more bangle bracelets than the entire chorus only contributed to the distraction.

Once upon a time there used to be wicker handbags for summer (brought out with the white shoes at Memorial Day), straw handbags acquired on tropical vacations, and luxurious leather handbags for day wear. Alligator bags always rank at the top of the Daytime Handbag Pyramid, but they need to turn into pumpkins at 5:00 PM. Alligators are not nighttime creatures.

Dear Grandmother’s evening bags from the 1920s.

Evening bags, of course, are much smaller and much showier. Originally they weren’t supposed to hold more than a lady’s handkerchief, house key, compact, lipstick, and “mad money.” It’s none of Etiquetteer’s business what a lady carries in her handbag day or night, though Etiquetteer understands that those small packets of paper tissues are often necessary. But since so many concert venues and other public places require people to empty out their bags on arrival, just be sure you aren’t carrying anything you wouldn’t want everyone to see.

The best advice about handbags Etiquetteer has been able to find, believe it or not, is from Polonius in Hamlet: “Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy.” Or, as that gnomish woman said in Unzipped in the 1990s, “Fussy, finished!” In other words, don’t stint on quality, get the best materials and workmanship you can afford, and don’t overdo it. Grace Kelly inspired perhaps the most classic handbag of the 20th century, followed closely by Jane Birkin. You can learn more about the Kelly Bag, the Birkin Bag, and other famous handbags here.

And if you’re in the mood for a new handbag but there’s just not a budget for it, tie a scarf onto the handle à la Babe Paley. What could be more Perfectly Proper?

*When you hold a handbag, you should be parallel. When you hold the floor, you should be perpendicular.

Crustaceans and Other Foods, Vol. 20, Issue 75

Dear Etiquetteer:

As someone who loves to cook it surprises me when I encounter people who don't know how to prep or eat certain foods. I watched a coworker try to peel an entire avocado before cutting it in half. (In case you didn't know avocados are much too slippery to peel first and then try to cut) I'm sure there are many who would be completely lost if presented with an entire steamed artichoke, or a soft boiled egg in a cup. (In theory, I know how to eat a soft boiled egg but I've never actually done it.) Same for crustaceans and whole fish.

So I guess my question is, what do you do when presented with unfamiliar foods?

Dear Gustatory:

We learn through experience, and we can't experience what we have yet to encounter. So Etiquetteer encourages you to be compassionate with those who don't yet have your breadth of food experience. They'll get there! 

Your query immediately brought to mind poor Julia Roberts in Mystic Pizza*, encountering a full-on lobster at her very first dinner at the home of her boyfriend's parents, with no idea what to do. Her earlier scorn of lobster came back to haunt her! (Etiquetteer prefers not to have to combat a meal, and very much prefers lobster Newburg to the traditional New England lobster served whole.) Etiquetteer wrote about artichokes way back in Volume 1.

Soft-boiled eggs fell out of fashion at some point in the last 60 years; Etiquetteer has never witnessed them in daily life. But it used to be quite a bit of breakfast showmanship to slice off the top of a soft-boiled egg, served in an egg cup. The late Louis XV -- he of "Aprés-moi, le deluge" -- used to be famed for his ability to thwack off the top of his egg with one stroke of his knife. From personal experience, Etiquetteer can report that it's not that simple, and look out for tiny shards of eggshell. All that remains now of  the "three-" or "four-minute egg" is the china egg cup. Etiquetteer uses Dear Grandmother's with the coffee service for artificial sweetener packets.

When you have no idea how to eat what's put before you, take your time and observe how everyone else is managing-- "see how folks do," as Willa Cather once said. And if you get something in your mouth that shouldn't be there, like a bit of eggshell or fishbone, subtly transfer it into your hand and park it in your napkin or someplace inconspicuous on the edge of your plate. And bon appétit!

Dear Etiquetteer:

Shrimp tails. What do you do with the inedible tails?

Dear Tailed:

As Marty Feldman so memorably said in Young Frankenstein, "Say nothing. Act casual." And really, that's Perfectly Proper advice for almost any occasion, is it not?

For the record, let Etiquetteer proclaim a preference against tail-on shrimp in every circumstance. Perhaps the only reasons the tails are left on is to save labor in the kitchen. This interesting piece from The Takeout suggests that it could be that, or interest in having a handle to grasp the shrimp. But lots of foods aren't born with handles. Please, let's just strip our shrimp fully and serve. So much easier all around.

Shrimp tails, if you do encounter them, must be disposed of discreetly. That depends on how they're served. If you're standing around at a cocktail party and offered a tray of shrimp cocktail, you may a) leave the tail on your little cocktail plate, b) tuck it out of the way under a centerpiece on a table (don’t get caught!), or c) wrap the shrimp tail in a paper napkin (if you have one) and stuff it into your pocket. If you're seated for a meal, you can a) leave the tails as out of the way as possible on your plate, b) tuck them out of the way on your bread plate or a special bowl provided for the purpose (if any), or c) wrap the shrimp tails in your napkin (you'd better have one anyway) and then leave carefully by your plate when you leave. Aprés-vous, le deluge.

Etiquetteer wishes you much Perfectly Proper enjoyment of tailless shrimp.

*The look on her face at 00:21 in this clip from Mystic Pizza will make you wish you’d listened to your mother more.

Gift Giving, Vol. 20, Issue 74

Dear Etiquetteer:

I've been exchanging birthday and Christmas gifts with a very dear friend I met through work for 20+ years. While it’s fun to come up with something unique for him every year I don't want him to feel pressured (as much as I love giving and getting presents). I was thinking of something like, “Let’s make this the last year we exchange gifts,” but that just doesn't feel like enough.

Dear Giving Friend:

It sounds like you’re ready to end longstanding traditions with a friend because you think he doesn’t enjoy it as much as you. But you’re not sure. That . . . that doesn’t sound very substantial. Before you embark on a Discussion About Feelings, think carefully about why you have this doubt. What’s your evidence? Has he suggested he has trouble shopping for you? Do you expect him to express himself in the same way you do? Think objectively before you act.

But if you really feel the need for change — you might be projecting your own restlessness onto your friend — then you have to start a Discussion About Feelings and be honest and kind. You could approach this from a few angles: that you’re cleaning house, that at this point in your life you’re really reevaluating how much stuff you have, that you have such a strong friendship after so long that you’d rather cherish that instead of tangible reminders. Be prepared to hear out your friend, whose opinion might not be what you expect.

You could also refocus your gift giving to consumables like specialty foods, beverages, or experiences (e.g. concert or theatre tickets, dinner out, etc.). Once they’re consumed, they take up no space! Etiquetteer suspects you each want the other to have a stress-free Christmas, but exchanging gifts with you might actually make his Christmas more joyous than you realize. Etiquetteer wishes you a loving and candid discussion with your friend.

Dear Etiquetteer:

What types of gifts are appropriate for female friends to give to a man, and for male friends to give to a woman? Or better yet, what types of gifts are completely inappropriate?

Dear Gifty:

These days, when mixed-gender friendships are not scrutinized so rigorously under the lens of Possible Marriage, it’s Perfectly Proper to give a gift that corresponds to a friend’s interests. So if your friend is interested in plants, cooking, French history, cosplay, exotic animals, card games, whatever — find a gift related to that interest. Avoid something that is obviously expensive. While often intended kindly, expensive gifts sometimes create a spirit of competition. That can rob the gift giving of its joy by putting the focus on the value of the gifts, and not the greater value of the friendship that inspires the giving.

There used to be a lot more restrictions on what gifts a lady could and could not accept from a gentleman. When Millicent Fenwick detailed how the rules were changing for unmarried girls in Vogue’s Book of Etiquette in 1948, one rule did not change: “Never accept a valuable present from a beau or possible beau — a very old rule and very sound.” Etiquetteer has always adored the followup from How to Set Up for Mah-Jongg and Other Lost Arts: “A lady never accepts an expensive present from a gentleman not her husband. A lady never accepts a present from her husband that’s not expensive.” So jewelry isn’t a Perfectly Proper gift for a gentleman to give a Woman Not His Wife.

Nor is clothing. Scarlett O’Hara is torn when Rhett Butler presents her with that green bonnet, and in the novel Gone With the Wind she remembers her mother’s admonitions against receiving anything like, “not even gloves or handkerchiefs. Should you accept such gifts, men would know you were no lady and would try to take liberties.”** Which Rhett Butler was very candid about trying to do.

For a girl graduating high school, The New American Etiquette of 1941 suggests that she might give her boyfriend “a wallet, fountain pen, or some such inexpensive evidence of her friendship,” while he might give her “flowers and an impersonal gift.” Etiquetteer would modify the classic advice of a gift being impersonal to suggesting that a gift correspond to a person’s interests without being too intimate — and absolutely not suggestive in any way.

The New American Etiquette includes gift suggestion lists for unmarried women to give to others, some laughably Of the Period. For instance, the list of gifts suitable to give to a man friend include: “Bronze sun dial, vacuum ice tub, onyx cut-out numerical dial clock, book-ends, portable bar of leather, saddle leather traveling game set.” The list of gifts suitable for a male relative betrays more intimate knowledge of daily habits: “Clothing accessories … electric shaving razor, ash tray and box for cigarettes . . . smoking equipment and supplies.”

Finally, personal handicrafts can’t be ruled out. Etiquetteer includes this because of the many wonderful skilled crafters and cooks out there, and because Edith Wharton mentions that the pansies on stage in Faust at the beginning of The Age of Innocence resemble “the floral pen-wipers made by female parishioners for fashionable clergymen.” Impersonal, but very much a gift of one’s self.

Etiquetteer wishes you joy as you search for the Perfectly Proper gift for each friend on your list.

*This is just a preference, but Etiquetteer would suggest you avoid food gifts like artisanal herb vinegars and condiments that are rarely used but take up space. The bottle looks less pretty the more dust it gathers on the counter.

**Gone With the Wind, by Margaret Mitchell, page 244. Used without permission. Please don’t hurt me.

Controversial Subjects, Vol. 20, Issue 73

Dear Etiquetteer:

Two questions for you. I’m curious about the correct response to a dining companion, sitting next to one at a bar, who asserts the virus is a hoax and refuses to say whether they are vaxed.

Then, when the same person asserts that destruction at BLM protests was done by “those people,” is it reasonable and appropriate to insist that they explain who those people are?

Dear Dining:

Having a difficult conversation in public is one thing. Having a difficult conversation at a bar while eating dinner is another. And having a difficult conversation at a bar while eating dinner with a stranger* is something else altogether. Let’s unpack this one thing at a time.

Eitquette advisors used to warn readers not to have personal conversations in restaurants at all, lest they be overheard, misinterpreted, and then circulated. Indiscretion was always to be avoided**. At least when one is seated at a restaurant table one has one’s choice of companions and the illusion of privacy. That’s not possible when shoulder to shoulder at the bar, jostling elbows to wield knife and fork. Then at least a little sociability is expected; it won’t do at a bar to appear exclusive or standoffish***.

That still doesn’t make a bar a Perfectly Proper arena for debate on the Big Issues, especially if it’s active and noisy. Etiquetteer can hear Dear Mother now: “This is neither the time nor the place.” If this is someone you know personally, you can deflect by either suggesting you talk about it elsewhere (“I’m really not comfortable talking about this topic right here and right now”) or changing the subject completely. The latter is classic etiquette advice for just about any difficult topic in any setting.

With strangers — and it is easy to fall into conversation with strangers at a bar — it feels trickier. Whether the conversation continues or not, you are trapped next to each other until at least one of you finishes eating, pays, and leaves. You have no reason to believe this stranger might not become belligerent.

Depending on how engaged you want to be, you can just focus on your meal or change the subject (preferred), call out the stranger’s interest in the topic, e.g. “This seems to mean a lot to you” (risky — this falls under “Hold My Gold”), or declare yourself on the Opposing Team, e.g. “I disagree completely” (very risky — this totally falls under “B****, It’s ON!”). Etiquetteer takes no responsibility for either of the last two suggestions. Under no circumstances should you suggest that you might “take this outside,” a traditional invitation to fisticuffs.

Finally, it’s deeply uncomfortable to discover that a dinner companion isn’t treating the coronavirus seriously when you are. And that discomfort is magnified when dining unmasked in public. Etiquetteer said early in the pandemic that we were all going to have to get more comfortable with questions about our health, and this is an important example. When making plans to go out with people you know, be candid about your own vaccination status, and insist on knowing theirs. If they can’t or won’t share that information, suggest a remote gathering instead.

But once you’re in it, you’re in it. If you become so uncomfortable that you believe your health is at risk, Etiquetteer will support you if you mask up at once and leave; pay your check at the front desk if necessary. (You may need to explain things, as quietly as possible, to the bartender — preferably at the other end of the bar.) With friends or family members, it’s clear that this will need to be discussed later. There’s no need to say anything but “Excuse me,” if that, to a stranger.

The coronavirus is never not going to be controversial. Etiquetteer wishes you prudent and forthright dinner companions in well-ventilated spaces as the pandemic continues.

*”Dining companion” does, of course, imply that you know each other, but at a bar it’s almost unavoidable to sit next to a total stranger, too.

**Now we have social media, heaven help us.

***Etiquetteer draws the line, however, at extensive commentary on one’s meal. It’s very offputting to have someone talk about everything you’re about to put in your mouth.