Ten Teatime Tips, Vol. 22, Issue 33

For International Tea Day, Etiquetteer offers a few tips for a Perfectly Proper afternoon tea.

1. Use the good stuff. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with having a mug of tea in the kitchen, but the reverse is true, too. There’s nothing wrong with getting out that One Special Teacup and the Good Teapot and treating yourself to a quiet hour in the living room, either. Why not?

2. Drink what’s offered. A tea service comes with one teapot, which means everyone is drinking the same thing. Unless there are medical reasons (Science has taught us that caffeine can have deleterious effects for some), accept your cup gratefully whether it’s the type of tea you prefer or not. The purpose of the gathering is not to serve you a cup of tea you find perfect, but fellowship and conversation. The sensations of a cup of tea last only a moment. Etiquetteer has faith in you.

3. Bring your own sweetener. If, for whatever reason, you simply cannot do without a particular type of sweetener, it is better for you to bring it with you. Your hosts want to spend time talking with you, not ferreting through their pantries. For Etiquetteer’s Dear Father it was Sweet ‘n’ Low; for others it could be agave nectar or something else. There’s no need to be embarrassed about it, just don’t call excessive attention to it.

4. But wise hosts offer more than just tea. It is always Perfectly Proper to offer sherry at the tea hour, and a pitcher of ice water can go a long way (and is also an alternative destination for lemon slices.)

5. Know your teas. Not all teas are brewed the same, and it helps to know this before filling the teapot. This guide from Grace Tea Company will help you a great deal.

6. Don’t steep it too long. They say George Bernard Shaw ended up a vegetarian with a sensitive stomach because, as a child, the maids basically left the teakettle on the stove all day, steeping it into pure tannin. The cure for this is to thin a too-strong cup of tea with boiling water; this is why a truly proper tea service come with a tea kettle on a stand over a flame; Etiquetteer, unencumbered with such a kettle, has to run off to the kitchen when required. At the other end of the spectrum, pour your tea too soon and you’ll be accused of serving “maiden’s water” or “aura of tea.”

7. Check the silver in advance. If you store your silver in those miraculous Pacific Cloth bags, this will really not be too tough a chore. But especially if you’re having company, scan each piece quickly beforehand and polish where it’s needed. (Etiquetteer was recently appalled with two Ps to see the true state of a silver tea strainer. It could happen to you . . . )

8. The slops bowl is your friend. Unheralded and unsung, the slops bowl is the true workhorse of the tea service, the receptacle of the dregs from every teacup before pouring fresh. While they sometimes come in silver, they are more usually china. Etiquetteer recommends a bowl with relatively high sides so that no one has to look at a leafy puddle of waste.

9. Consider lump sugar. Etiquetteer recently observed a sugar bowl filled with rough lumps of both white and cane (tan) sugar that was Perfectly Charming. Even if you’re going to offer regular sugar cubes, you’ll need proper sugar tongs — sometimes called sugar nips — to do so. Since they aren’t as common as they once were, it will make the tea hour more special.

10. Cup and saucer together. Whether your cup and saucer are before you on the table or resting cautiously on your knee — which is Not Really Perfectly Proper — lift them both to a level above your waist before lifting the cup to your lips.

Etiquetteer wishes you a Perfectly Proper, and Perfectly Delightful, tea hour.

Non-Stop Talkers, Vol. 22, Issue 32

Dear Etiquetteer:

I was recently at a business retreat. At two meals I was seated at a table with a new board member. Throughout both meals she talked non-stop — about her children. I have no doubt her children are amazing, but what would have been the best way to deal with someone monopolizing the conversation?

Dear Retreating:

Etiquetteer has a couple different thoughts about this, first about the setting. People in business attend conferences and retreats to exchange ideas about business, not someone’s personal life. Etiquetteer has never forgotten the story of the press conference to launch a new initiative that resulted in press coverage . . . of a Busy Executive’s Overseas Vacation, which said executive had been gassing on about to a reporter. Whether this was intended or not, it hijacked the hard work of more than a few people. It redefined “Loose lips sink ships.” Etiquetteer doesn’t mean that chat about family and individual interests is forbidden — sometimes it’s a handy conversation starter — but it isn’t the purpose of the gathering and shouldn’t dominate.

More universally, whenever people come together it is to exchange conversation. Give and take is essential. You may read what Etiquetteer had to say about babblers at the dinner table here. In your case, your New Board Member may have been attending her first retreat and secretly nervous about what to talk about; her children may have been a familiar (to her) topic. (Because Heaven forbid one just listen and learn . . . ) The solution is to refocus her onto your organization. “You must be missing your children a lot! But I have really wanted to ask you why you chose to get involved with [Insert Name of Organization Here], since its mission is so deeply entrenched in our community.” Or ask about a new initiative or project in the industry.

“I’m really not interested” is next door to rude, but only the most obtuse will miss that it means it’s Time to Change the Subject. At worst, though, it could sever a professional relationship or prompt a Discussion About Feelings. Use with extreme caution.

Etiquetteer wishes you aware and on-topic companions at your next retreat.

A Personal Perspective on the Coronation of Charles III, Vol. 22, Issue 31

Today Etiquetteer yields the floor to That Mr. Dimmick Who Thinks He Knows So Much to share his own experience in London for the King’s coronation.

No, I wasn’t admitted to the Abbey yesterday for the coronation — you won’t see me trying to break in like that Caroline of Brunswick! — but it was interesting to see how ordinary Londoners who wanted to observe chose to spend the day and what they felt was a good way to do that. Holland Park, in Kensington, turned out to be a perfect place to watch. Compared to the thousands of people along the procession route and around Buckingham Palace, there never seemed more than 300 people around the giant screen. No one felt trapped in the mob.

Obviously the rainy weather impacted what people chose to wear and how they behaved. Maneuvering with an umbrella is challenging in the friendliest rainstorm, but there are added risks to blocking the view of a Public Ceremony. Happily people seated in front kept their brollies close to their heads, and for those in back there was plenty of room to move about if need be. (Another reason to avoid more crowded venues.) While there were quite a few Union Jack and coronation-themed umbrellas, my favorite was the gold umbrella featuring Gustav Klimt’s The Kiss. I witnessed more than a few people offer temporary shelter to the uncovered.

The gold Klimt umbrella may be seen at left.

All these umbrellas contributed to the dressing-up part of a public celebration, which can mean wearing your Sunday best (which I did), or adding flags and other souvenirs to your person. Many people gladly accepted small coronation flags or Union Jacks to hold or wave; I wish I had photographed the woman who had stuck three or four of them into the gigantic bun on top of her head, a regal presentation indeed. Who needs Prince of Wales feathers? And more than a few people wore plastic or plush crowns as part of the fun. Why not? Face painting was on offer elsewhere in the park, and the Union Jack adorned many a childish cheek.

Parents brought babies and young children so that later in life, obviously, they could say they had seen the coronation of the King. Some of these children were simply not having it, however, and I thought it was wonderful that other activities had been planned for them at a safe distance, like bubble blowing and such like. That way they didn’t disturb the rest of us. I gather that Princess Charlotte’s and Prince Louis’s mid-ceremony departure had been pre-planned. and that is exactly right (although the late Queen Mary would have had different ideas).

I satisfied my own need for thematic accessories by hauling out a couple family heirlooms: cufflinks of my father’s decorated with Beefeaters, and a vaguely heraldic brooch from my mother’s college days for my lapel.

And speaking of heirlooms — I think I saw more regal headgear in the park than I did in the Abbey. To paraphrase the late Jane Austen, “there was a shocking lack of tiaras” among those present (although some of the hats were fabulous). As someone who enjoys jewelry, this was a real disappointment. This Vogue article goes into a little of the precedent for not wearing tiaras, and of course even I recognize the need to simplify both the coronation ceremony and the monarchy in general. But don’t deprive us of the glitter!

All in all, a wet day good for sturdy and comfortable shoes, abbreviated ceremony, and community kindness. How long until the next one?

Zippers and Reader Responses, Vol. 22, Issue 30

Etiquetteer has been delighted to hear from readers with wit and wisdom after the last few columns. First, we have a very important query about zippers:

Dear Etiquetteer:

I, for one, really enjoyed this column — all important bits of wisdom and advice that can never go wrong. I do have one question. How does a lady tell a gentleman, particularly one she has never met but are at the same social event, that his zipper is down? And, I do not believe anyone under the age of 40 now knows the meaning of “XYZ.” I had occasion to say this to a few close friends and/or adult sons and the quizzical look on their face, begging for an explanation, told me they had no idea what “XYZ” means. Is it really out of today’s lexicon?

Dear Concerned:

While recognizing your good intentions, a lady never tells a man not her husband anything about his zipper, especially a stranger. The risk, unfortunately, is that a lady could discover that he’s actually no gentleman. Once Etiquetteer read in a tiny mid-19th century etiquette book that “A lady does not even understand a double entendre.” There are other phrases gentlemen can use to alert each other to a wardrobe malfunction, but they tend to involve double entendre. “The barn door is open” is relatively mild.

And now, some suggestions on How to Speed the Parting Guest:

From a well-traveled Bostonian: “As the owner of the Woodward Bar in Detroit always said at closing time: ‘You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!’”

From a gentleman: “My grandfather used to stand up and say to his wife: “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart. These people want to go home.” Etiquetteer can’t imagine a defter way to manage the situation.

As to Typewritten Correspondence:

From a writer: “Another of your columns resonates with me. At this point in my life, virtually all my letters are written on the computer, then printed out. (The only exceptions are sympathy notes. I dislike sympathy cards, and prefer a short note, very much personalized.) In writing letters by keyboard, I can edit easily and rephrase. To me, writing is a fine art, and I just find the words flow more easily when I type. It’s nice to get your imprimatur.”

From a trembling hand: “Thank you for your nihil obstat on typewritten letters. [An inherited medical condition] makes handwriting difficult to write and difficult to read. If I write really slowly it doesn’t look too bad, but even with your approval I’ve wondered if a typewritten note with a footnote of apology (handwritten to prove my point) that my penmanship is no longer legible (or some other excuse.....?) but I feel that some sort of apology is necessary for a typewritten note.”

Etiquetteer responds: Believe it or not, we must turn to the late Julia Child for the best advice in this situation: “No excuses, no explanations!” Type away without apology and let your signature stand as it is for your personal engagement.

From a devoted reader: “Whew! I’m safe! And, wherever did you find that image of those folks dancing on a typewriter? Wow - absolutely perfect!” In fact that photo is of Ruby Keeler and Lee Dixon dancing to “You’re Just Too Marvelous” in the 1937 film Ready, Willing, and Able.

Finally, a reader caught out an omission in Etiquetteer’s advice on Moving Notices:

“I think there are two other items of information that, while not as significant as they used to be, should be addressed as soon as known. Will your phone numbers or email addresses change? Many of our neighbors for one reason or another changed their emails when moving, possibly because they took their mobile numbers with them to a new carrier but also switched to the new carrier's email.”

Etiquetteer responds: You are exactly, correct, notice or confirmation of phone and email should also be included, e.g. “Our other information remains the same,” with relevant email and phone numbers included, or changes noted.

Retirement News, Vol. 22, Issue 29

Dear Etiquetteer:

I am soon to retire from a long and challenging career. The nature and challenges of the career have fostered strong camaraderie amongst myself and other department colleagues. My departure will impact our group, especially if my position is not promptly filled. I feel in the interest of goodwill I should let people know I'm going, but I am hesitant to do so. Several others have retired already this year. Their announcements were met with statements like “Thanks for abandoning me” and “Must be lucky to be able to run away,” especially from work friends that would have been expected to be congratulatory.

How can I give my goodbyes so as to limit exposure to negative commentary? When met with negative commentary, how should I respond?

Dear Retiring:

First, allow Etiquetteer to wish you a long, happy, healthy, and comfortable retirement! Such a marvelous milestone to reach.

You know what this is, though, these backhanded “congratulations,” don’t you? Your colleagues think they’re being funny, and are really just underlining that your main bond is the misery (actual or alleged) of your shared workplace. Whenever a workplace departure is shared, it’s in much better taste not to allude to one’s own unhappiness, even in jest, and especially as the very first comment; it just sounds selfish. The Perfectly Proper response is to express happiness and best wishes for success in the next place. (Etiquetteer would be alarmed if someone expressed best wishes for success in the Next World . . . )

You are not responsible for the behavior of others, but naturally you want to feel that these long-time colleagues would sincerely wish you well. Include the words “I hope you can be happy for me” at the start of each conversation, which may elicit a congratulations before their Tide of Personal Woe engulfs your joy. You can also emphasize (when you can do so honestly) how much each colleague has contributed to your own professional happiness.

Snappy Comebacks are always tempting, but not wise. If someone said “Thanks for abandoning me” to Etiquetteer, it would be so meanly satisfying to reply “Well, you make it so easy!” But you already know that that’s Not Perfectly Proper. “I/We have been planning this for some time” is still vague enough to be private, but specific enough to note that your hard work was involved and not just “luck.”

Unless you have made out-of-office friendships with colleagues, Etiquetteer must warn you that you will be interacting with them almost never after you retire. Their Edgy Humor will no longer matter once you walk out on your last day. And that’s another reason for you to leave on a high note. “First impressions last,” as the old saying goes, and so do Last Impressions. As much as you’re able, don’t take these crabby expressions personally. They aren’t really about you or your situation at all. Rise above it, and ride out of the office with a feeling of freedom from All That.

Etiquetteer wishes you a smooth transition to the Retiring Life, sped by the sincere goodwill of your colleagues.

Etiquetteer's Guidelines to Condolence Correspondence, or How to Express and Acknowledge Sympathy with Perfect Propriety

Death comes “like a thief in the night,” and it is not always easy to remember what to do or how to act. Expressing sympathy to the bereaved is a centuries-old custom meant to bring comfort to all involved. Sometimes anxiety about saying the right thing — about saying the wrong thing — keeps us from sending condolences at all. Etiquetteer offers these guidelines to help you act in the moment when you receive news of a death.

GUIDELINES FOR SENDING CONDOLENCES

Write as quickly as you can. Condolences make a positive difference whenever they are received, but especially in the days immediately after a death and/or a funeral. One condolence email began “I know a handwritten note is more appropriate in moments such as this, but I find that speed is more important than propriety.” Both are important, but while we take the speed of the Internet for granted, the appearance of an envelope in the letterbox remains doubly touching when one is bereaved. When in doubt, there’s no reason not to send both an email and a handwritten card or letter.

But write anyway, whenever you do. Sometimes it feels embarrassing when you haven’t communicated condolences at all, for whatever reason: couldn’t find the right card, couldn’t think of what to say, heard the news months later, personal aversion to acknowledging Death, just plain forgot. Months can go by. Taking the trouble to communicate condolences, whenever you do, no matter how long after the funeral, makes a positive difference. Cover any embarrassment you might feel with the phrase “You have been on my mind since the death of [Insert Name of Deceased Here]” or something similar.

There's a lot of Perfectly Proper stationery out there, so don’t use that as an excuse. There are many Appropriate Cards on the market from which to choose. Mostly in neutral shades or patterns, they all incorporate sympathetic language, either secular or religion-specific. Images from nature are also very popular. When shopping, if you find one you like, buy a dozen or more to have on hand when needed. Non-condolence-specific notecards may also be used.

Still, as they say in the fashion world, “You can never go wrong with a classic.” Plain black-bordered notecards in white or ecru are always Correct. Dempsey & Carroll produce the ideal version of this, with In Condolence engraved across the top. There's also plain black from Crane’s.

But using your own letterhead is Perfectly Proper for all correspondence, including condolences. Some sticklers would even say it is More Perfectly Proper than a condolence card, while others don’t consider a condolence a condolence unless it’s written on a condolence card. Etiquetteer considers anyone who would complain about the way in which people offer them sympathy unworthy of it.

Use your full name and address. It’s easy, when writing to people you know, to save a bit of time or trouble by omitting a return address from a sympathy card. Don’t give into that Slothful Temptation. The complete return address you add to a sympathy card is one less address the bereaved will have to spend time finding. You may also think yourself the only Beowulf in the life of the bereaved, and might be surprised to learn about them wondering if your condolence came from Beowulf “Bay” Brummell in Arizona or Beowulf “Wulfy” Brummelli in Accounting. Help out the bereaved by including this Useful Information somewhere, even when you’re sure they already know it. It will make a difficult task easier.

Originality is unnecessary. Many correspondents will delay writing because they want to think of something original to say, either about the deceased or the situation. But if those words don’t come, write and send them later when they do pop into your head. There is no shame, and actually quite a lot of good, in responding quickly with the same thoughts that everyone else is having: that you care about the bereaved, that you care about the deceased, and that you want to help.

Be understanding if you don’t hear back for awhile. No matter how you send your condolences, the bereaved have a lot going on and may not reply very quickly. If you sent your condolence electronically, it never hurts to send another email along the lines of “Thinking of You” after a week or so.

GUIDELINES FOR REPLYING TO CONDOLENCES

Find the right stationery, but don’t let the search slow you down. The stores don’t always have the Right Thing when needed, and it isn’t always possible to wait to reply to condolences for an order to be delivered. Long ago pre-engraved acknowledgment cards used to be considered in poor taste. Nowadays they are considered Perfectly Proper as long as they include a handwritten note inside. Dempsey & Carroll produce some elegant ones.

Black-bordered stationery is traditional for condolences; in the 19th century it was used until the period of mourning was over, the border getting thinner as the mourning period went on. Crane's has good plain black-bordered notecards.

In a very few instances, since Excessive Embellishment is the antithesis of mourning, used notecards engraved with a peacock feather. While the peacock symbolizes immortality and eternal life in some religious traditions, this level of embellishment is the Thin End of the Wedge. Crane’s offers a lovely peacock feather notecard.

Reply to condolences in the manner in which they were received. Handwritten condolences are replied to in handwriting.* Email condolences are replied to by email. Condolences received via social media are acknowledged via social media. In the last case, it’s not necessary to respond to individual comments under a status update (but you may, if you wish). A single comment thanking all for their condolences will be seen by all, and that comment may be added again after subsequent responses.

Be brief. Death brings many stresses, and many things to be attended to, which means that there may not be extended time to spend on correspondence. It’s not necessary to write more than “Dear [Insert Name Here], Thank you for your kindness at this difficult time. Yours gratefully, [Insert Your Name Here].” A reply can be heartfelt without being long-winded.

Anyone in the family may reply. Death brings up a lot of emotions, and not everyone is ready to respond to a pile of condolences, even those it is “easier” to respond to electronically. One or more Capable Family Members (or Willing Friends) may be detailed to reply “on behalf of all our family” or “on behalf of [Insert Name of Prostrated Mourner Here]” without any lapse of Perfect Propriety. It would be Bad Form for recipients to protest “But I was hoping to hear from [Insert Name of Prostrated Mourner Here].”

A reply makes a difference. Aside from learning that their condolence was received, your reply to a condolence reassures correspondents of your current state.

*Sticklers will here try to ensnare Etiquetteer and other writers into a debate on the merits and demerits of handwriting vs. typewriting or computer printing. This is tedious in the extreme. If someone writes by hand and you prefer to type/print a response for whatever reason (the one that seems given most often is illegibility), then go right ahead and do so. The reverse is also true.

Dear Etiquetteer:

How long do you really have to write a condolence note after someone dies? Is it still acceptable to send a note a couple months later?

Dear Condoling:

Condolences really should be written and sent as soon as you learn of a death. Etiquetteer will never forget the Busy Executive who, on learning of the death of a colleague’s parent, reached instantly for the box of notecards and began penning his condolence. This is why it always helps to have a box of Perfectly Proper stationery on hand, as well as postage stamps that don’t look too celebratory.

WHAT TO SAY IN CONDOLENCES

Condolences serve two purposes: to express sympathy to the bereaved by sharing positive thoughts and memories of the deceased; and, through the act of thoughtful writing, to help you yourself through the grieving process. Because this is really just between you and the bereaved, this is best done by handwritten letter or card, or by email.

That doesn’t mean you can’t express sympathy on social media. What is attractive about expressing sympathy online is its immediacy, and expressing condolences swifty is important. But the pitfalls of Immediate Online Expression are thoughtlessness and indiscretion on one side, and the consciousness of writing for a larger audience than the bereaved on the other. This last can sometimes lead to an Escalation of Histrionics that becomes less about the impact of the deceased and more about the individual grief of each commenter. It’s just as bad to steal the spotlight from the deceased as it is to steal the spotlight from the bride at a wedding.

The later condolences get put off, the more specific they should be. Condolences should include at least one of two subjects: specific reminiscences to cast a positive light on the deceased, whether humorous, inspiring, or otherwise; and the knowledge that the writer remains concerned about the recipient even after the funeral has taken place. Etiquetteer advises correspondents to avoid “If there”s anything I can do . . . ” or its variations unless you really are ready to do anything when they call for help.

Dear Etiquetteer: Is the term “I’m sorry,” or “Sorry for your loss,” an appropriate response upon hearing of a death in the family of a friend? I see so much of that on social media, while I had thought that extending sympathy or condolences would be a more proper response.

Dear Condoling:

Etiquetteer admires your discerning attitude about how we use language and wishes more people would adopt it. This led Etiquetteer to examine more closely the definition of “sorry,” fearing it might imply personal responsibility for what one was sorry for. As it turns out, one definition is “Feeling regret, compunction, sympathy . . . ” and another is “suggestive of grief or suffering.” So yes, "I'm sorry" is an appropriate response to the news of a death. “Sorry for your loss” is improved by making it a full sentence: “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Now, is it the most appropriate response? Etiquetteer would rather see “My condolences” or “My sympathies” used instead, because those words are more specific. “I’m sorry” is used every time an apology is made. You cannot say “My condolences for forgetting to attend your birthday dinner,” for instance. Online, “I’m sorry” looks rather like a throwaway comment, which is surely not the intent of those commenting.

Dear Etiquetteer:

A relative of mine died recently, quite unexpectedly, and I’ll be sending a sympathy card to his widow. My challenge is that this relative was never nice to me, ever. Do I just stick with “I’m so sorry for your loss. You are in my thoughts and prayers?”

Dear Condoling:

You already know that you have to be nice about this when you write and not mention how the deceased treated you. So how convenient that condolence notes can be brief. Since you don’t have anything good to say about the deceased, say nothing about him. Focus instead on the feelings of who you’re writing to and your support for them. “I know this must be an emotional and difficult time and I feel for what you’re going through” doesn’t even allude to your own experience with the deceased.

Euphemism can be tempting at times, but be careful. “Uncle Savage was a remarkably vital personality who left his mark on everyone he knew” can be read two ways. It’s dangerous to assume that the recipient will only see the kinder interpretation. Resist the temptation.

Finally, the phrase “thoughts and prayers” has become so openly mocked as insincere that Etiquetteer thinks it best to find another way to say it. “We are praying for you and your family at this difficult time” or “Sending healing thoughts to all of you” communicate it unambiguously.

Material in these guidelines comes from Etiquetteer columns 6.10, 14.19, 14.39, 16.1, and 20.63

Advice No One Asked For, Vol. 22, Issue 28

Etiquetteer, in a state of indisposition, is just going to toss out a few things that no one asked about.

If the waiter asks “What is that?” when you place your drink order, change your order. No matter how badly you want a sazerac or [Insert Name of Preferred Cocktail Here], the risk of your drink getting bungled in translation will cast a shadow over your evening. Switch to something more basic.

The best places to scroll social media on a smartphone when out in public are in corners, against walls or when seated. They are not on staircases or escalators, in front of doorways, or at the cash register. In general, if you’re in motion, eyes up!

When packing for an extended trip with limited baggage, select clothes in a limited color palette so that you have as many options as possible with the minimum items. Etiquetteer often bases his travel wardrobe on old-fashioned half-mourning: black, white, gray, brown, pink, and purple.

Dignified silence is often more effective than spluttering indecision or invective. Take a deep breath to consider your words.

Deflect unwanted questions as gently as possible. For those unable to pick up on social cues, switch the focus to their own interest. “You take an embarrassingly intimate interest in my personal affairs. Why is that?” (The British rebuke “You’re not very curious, are you?” no longer seems as universally understood as it once was.)

The code for one gentleman to tell another that his fly is open is “XYZ” for “examine your zipper.” The code for one lady to tell another that her slip is showing is “It’s snowing down south.”

Sometimes, when in a bad mood, you have to play peek-a-boo with a stranger’s baby on the subway to stop that baby from crying and bringing down everyone else’s mood. That’s true Perfect Propriety.

There’s a time and a place to wear your suit and tie (or your gloves and pearls) and a time and place to drink beer out of the bottle in the kitchen. They are usually not the same time and place — possibly back at the house after the funeral — but they both have their place in our daily lives, and they both have their standards of behavior.

Typewritten Correspondence, Vol. 22, Issue 27

Dear Etiquetteer:

I applaud and cheer your enthusiastic endorsement of April as National Card and Letter Writing Month. I certainly burden the Postal Service with more than my fair share of cards and letters.

May I ask, though, does Etiquetteer have strong objections to the use of typewriters or gasp computer printers for paper correspondence — on quality stationery, of course? I always hand-sign with a good pen and postscripts are always handwritten.

Dear Typing:

Whether Etiquetteer has objections or not, don’t you think that ship has sailed? Like applauding the singing of the National Anthem (an act of patriotism is not supposed to be applauded) or clinking glasses in a toast (you’re just supposed to lift the glass), printed or typed personal letters are with us to stay. And of course for that Select(ric) Community of Collectors of Typewriters, to which Etiquetteer knows you belong, a beautifully typewritten letter is just as much a work of art as calligraphy. Who is Etiquetteer to stand in the way of such artistic expression?

Of course this includes the writer’s signature in ink and any postscript added. Handwriting proves that the writer was personally involved; it verifies that the letter received isn’t a form letter or recycled information (even if it might be). In her absorbing memoir A Lady, First*, Letitia Baldrige confessed to creating newsy little letters for Jackie Kennedy to send her Bouvier aunts. Jackie would add a postscript in her own hand and sign. Otherwise, the aunts may never have heard from her. But, to paraphrase the late Edna Turnblad, “You ain’t no First Lady, are you? You’re a typewriter, that’s what you are!” So keep typing, signing, and PSing.

During the last 25 years or so, the corporate world (where everything is almost entirely email now) has reverted to handwritten thank-you notes after job interviews or offers. Once upon a time all professional correspondence was typewritten or printed, including and especially letters of thanks from job applicants. Now the trend is toward professional gratitude that appears more personal through handwriting on foldover notecards instead of typewritten on 8.5" by 11" letterhead. Etiquetteer can only suggest that notecards used for professional correspondence look professional: no flowers or frills, just a severe border, with possibly your name or initials. Dempsey & Carroll’s Write Away notecards in Regent Blue are exactly the right thing.

We also can’t ignore that not everyone writes a fine Palmer Method hand any longer (if we ever did), and that many of us have penmanship that can only kindly be described as Challenging. It could be argued that typed or printed correspondence might be received more gratefully than something handwritten.

Etiquetteer wishes you joyous hours at the Typewriter of Your Choice, something like this, pouring forth well-chosen words and well-rounded phrases for the delight of your recipients. Your example may even persuade Etiquetteer to take down Dear Grandmother’s 1923 Royal Portable.

*Yes, yes, Etiquetteer quotes from this book frequently. But it is absorbing, and Tish offers so many wonderful examples of Perfect Propriety, and Perfect Propriety Gone Wrong.

To Speed the Parting Guest with Perfect Propriety, Vol. 22, Issue 26

Dear Etiquetteer:

How does a hostess convey to guests that it is time for them to leave? Seven until one is a bit long.

Dear Hostess:

A six-hour dinner party can feel taxing, especially if you’re the one doing the dishes. Consider setting an expectation when you invite people by adding an end time — and then expect people to leave no later than one hour after that. If you say “Come over for dinner from 7:00-10:00 PM,” it’s reasonable to expect people to leave by 11:00 PM. Etiquetteer would not recommend an end time of less than three hours from your start. A dinner party is more about conversation than the menu, and less than three hours will make your diners feel they have to “dine and dash.”

But that’s cold comfort at midnight as the conversation drags on. Here you can attempt the Letitia Baldrige Approach, which she shared in Lesley Blume’s Let’s Bring Back. Stand in the center of the room, call everyone’s attention, and insist that the city will shut down tomorrow if everyone present doesn’t go home for a good night’s sleep immediately. Of course she was entertaining Beltway Insiders, but your guests may find it flattering.

A Great Big Yawn ought to do the trick, but the most obvious sign that it’s Time to Go is when you (and your co-host, if any) begin clearing the table and washing the dishes. Accept or decline offers of assistance as you choose.

Many years ago, Etiquetteer attempted to end a cocktail party that had gone on too long by playing Mozart’s “Queen of the Night” aria by that immortal American singer Florence Foster Jenkins. One beloved but obtuse party guest asked point blank “What on earth did you put that on for? Don’t you realize everyone will leave?” Even the Glare of the Basilisk didn’t work on this one!

If dishwashing doesn’t work (and if it doesn’t you may reconsider inviting those guests again), just hand them their coats with an “I’m so sorry you have to go, but it’s been a lovely night.” Finally, Etiquetteer has a vague memory of a 1980s Susan Orlean article in the Boston Phoenix. Faced with the very last party guests — three women dancing in a trance to no music with all the lights on — the bathrobe-clad hostess had to hold a match over their coats to get them to leave.

Etiquetteer wishes you charming dinner guests who know How to Take a Hint.

Rose and Jack on the Titanic, Vol. 22, Issue 25

Dear Etiquetteer:

With the 25th anniversary of James Cameron’s Titanic in 2023, I have re-watched it and have so many questions! Loved your 2012 article covering some of Titanic and I want to know more!

Would Rose have met Jack on deck to thank him in public?

Would she have been OK seeing his nude drawings or is that more akin to watching [Insert Improper Euphemism Here] on your laptop with the sound up on a bus?

What would third class think of seeing her at their Irish jig dance party? I assume it is the modern-day equivalent of Princess Kate hanging out with a bunch of football hooligans in a pub and injecting meth with them?

[Insert Highly Improper Queries about the actual likelihood of ahem intimacy between Rose and Jack Here.] Or could a 19-year-old have rebelled so much like a teenager nowadays?

Dear Film Buff:

This is why we really can’t rely on the movies to teach us history. Etiquetteer had the great privilege in 1992 of meeting Eva Hart and four other survivors of the Titanic when hosting a screening of A Night to Remember. Miss Hart introduced the film by saying that “This is the most factually accurate film about the sinking, and the others are just rrrrrrrrrrrrubbish!” She was, of course, correct. Although Etiquetteer dearly loves the 1953 Titanic, the James Cameron Titanic of which you write, and has seen more than once the laughably inaccurate 1943 German propaganda film* and the 1929 Atlantic, A Night to Remember remains the gold standard of Titanic films. If you haven’t seen it yet, you really owe it to yourself to do so.

To accommodate the plot, James Cameron threw most period ocean liner etiquette overboard. On the Titanic, each class had its own outdoor deck space. While first class passengers could pretty much go where they wished, steerage passengers could not. Rose would have had to go to the steerage decks to find Jack, which would have been in the poop deck and the forward and aft well decks; she would not have found him where she did on the Boat Deck. (Cameron also ignored that April in the mid-Atlantic was exceedingly cold and people didn’t spend time on deck without blankets and fur coats.) But it is theoretically possible that she could have done so.

One of the great fictions sustained by Titanic-based entertainments is that there was dancing on board on Sunday. At the time dancing on the Sabbath was considered next door to Original Sin by all classes. (Yes, the dance party in the movie was not on Sunday night. Nevertheless, there was no dancing.) And in steerage the public room lights were turned off at 10:00 PM to reduce the risk of hijinks. On the Fatal Night, “. . . an informal party followed dinner, with music provided by fellow passengers” in steerage, but without dancing.*** It was also noted that “Several couples sought quiet spots for romantic interludes.” Ahem. Please note that the White Star Line assigned accommodations to women traveling along in steerage at one end of the steerage decks, and men traveling alone at the exact opposite end, with family groups in between, to discourage impropriety as much as they were able.

In first class the ship’s orchestra gave a small concert at which Dorothy Gibson, an Actual Movie Star, requested dance music. She “clicked her heels and swayed her adolescent arms to the rhythm” according to Much More Ladylike Helen Churchill Candee.** But bandmaster Wallace Hartley, a good Methodist, steered away from that level of gaiety and concluded at 9:15 PM with the Barcarolle from Tales of Hoffmann.

Would Rose have gone to steerage to hang out? Etiquetteer thinks not. Slumming, the practice of upper class people “seeing how the other half lived,” wasn’t much of a shipboard practice, not least because of hygiene concerns. On land, slumming really came into its own in the Roaring Twenties, famously at Harlem nightclubs, but also in most urban centers.

Now . . . ahem ahem . . . you ask about the likelihood of Rose . . . ahem . . . how to express it? . . . succumbing to temptation and yielding her virtue. Remember that James Cameron’s Titanic is essentially an action film overlaid by a 20th-century teenage girl’s fantasy for both romance and emancipation on her own terms. This makes everything about Rose and Jack’s interactions Highly Improbable — not to mention that the idea of trysting in a limousine on the cargo deck was taken directly from Now, Voyager. Conventional wisdom at the time was very much that “Nice Girls Don’t.” Henry James created the character Daisy Miller in his eponymous novella about a careless American girl in Europe who is eager to meet gentlemen. Spoiler alert: she meets an early death.

Ladies waited until after marriage to rebel. Etiquetteer would direct you to three ladies of roughly this period: Consuelo Vanderbilt, the Marchesa Luisa Casati, and Nancy Cunard. Consuelo, forced into marriage with the Duke of Marlborough by her domineering mother Alva, eventually took a few lovers and ended up divorcing the Duke — but not before providing the traditional “heir and spare” in the form of two sons. The Marchesa Casati, who rarely lived with her husband in the first place, eventually became one of Europe’s most dazzling exhibitionist hostesses in Venice and Paris until she spent herself broke. Nancy, daughter of Not at All Perfectly Proper Lady Emerald Cunard****, was already restive in Society before her 1916 marriage to Sydney Fairbairn. After her 1919 divorce, she essentially slept with every white writer and black musician on the Continent — but by then it was the Roaring Twenties, and Things Had Changed.

Etiquetteer cannot find the reference now, but the Titanic included at least one couple traveling as man and wife who were not actually married. This would not have been possible for a girl in Main Line Society like Rose, who would have been too well known to get away with that ruse.

Etiquetteer wants to thank you for an absorbing set of queries on a favorite topic — the Titanic, that is, not Libidinous Indiscretion.

*Aside from the plot (the sinking was caused by a fight between Ismay and John Jacob Astor for control of the White Star Line), the 22-piece brass band could have blasted the ship all the way to Halifax with their rendition of “Nearer My God to Thee,” played while the telegraph operator frees his pet parakeet and the one German officer on board rescues a small child before swimming five miles to a lifeboat. Ridiculous.

** Gilded Lives, Fatal Voyage: The Titanic’s First-Class Passengers and Their World, by Hugh Brewster, page 153.

*** Titanic: An Illustrated History, by Don Lynch, page 77.

****Emerald Cunard is also worth your study, but of an earlier period. Born Maud Burke of San Francisco and doubtful parentage, she was very much an American Buccaneer when she snagged Sir Bache Cunard. Her country house parties were known for their Lush Atmosphere. After her divorce, she was well known as the mistress of Sir Thomas Beecham.

Sinister Glasses, Vol. 22, Issue 24

Dear Etiquetteer:

I’m left-handed and, at casual mealtimes with Lefty Husband, I tend to put our drinking glasses on the left side of the plate, so that we’re not reaching across the plate and, ugh, potentially dragging a shirt cuff through the hollandaise sauce. Is it Perfectly Proper when having a dinner party to reverse placement of the drinking accoutrements for our sinister guests?

I don’t feel that I need to reverse placement of the flatware, however, as it’s not difficult to pick up the given utensils, use them as needed and place them on the left edge of the plate. I think this
is a Perfectly Proper course, no? One doesn’t put soiled utensils back on the tablecloths only to stain the hosts’ linen.

Any insights are appreciated.

Dear Sinister:

Etiquetteer must commend you both for your thoughtfulness toward your guests, and for your insouciant use of the word sinister*. Now that left-handedness is no longer considered Inherently Evil, we forget that meaning of the word. Its opposite in the world of heraldry is dexter.

But Etiquetteer cannot agree that individualized place settings can be Perfectly Proper. Consistency is a virtue; people know where to find their glasses at a properly set table and will be thrown for a loop with your innovation, even if it is intended to be more convenient. And aside from having to ask people which hand they use for what purposes before they arrive (along with questions about dietary issues), you risk confusion when you seat a dexter guest on the sinister side of a sinister guest, clumping all their glasses together between them. You also sacrifice an element of beauty in a well-set table, too: its uniformity.

Etiquetteer has confidence in all Left-Handed Diners that they can navigate a properly laid table without undue catastrophe. What this really means is no trailing sleeves, shawls, or charm bracelets to get in the way — and button up that cuff while you’re at it.

Etiquetteer wishes you many accident-free meals with congenial company of all dexterities.

*The Bar Sinister was once a common expression to indicate that one’s parents weren’t married to each other at the time of one’s birth. Etiquetteer fails to understand why that circumstance should be considered evil, having known very many people “born on the right side of the blanket” who were Absolutely Awful. Etiquetteer has always loved that, in the novel Auntie Mame, one of the previous identities of Mame’s Club Continentale was called Belle’s Bar Sinister.

Three Things for Thank-You Notes, Vol. 22, Issue 23

You already know how fond Etiquetteer is of a Lovely Note. Since April is National Card and Letter Writing Month, it’s a Perfectly Proper time to review the basics. A Lovely Note of Thanks may include almost anything you want to share, but there are three elements that absolutely must be part of it:

1. The specific thing you are thanking your correspondent for. Whether it’s an event (“dinner last Thursday night,” “taking us to see Doja Cat”) or a gift (“those funny coasters,” “the set of silver iced-tea spoons,” “the photographs from our trip”), say what it was and avoid vagueries like “your thoughtful gift.” This will show your recipient that you’re actually paying attention.

2. The words “Thank you” or “Thanks.” You writing those words is the entire purpose of the Lovely Note. That means you writing it and not relying on the stationers to write it for you in the design on the front of the card. Miss Manners Herself, the great Judith Martin, in her Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior, brooked no dissent when she said “If you can’t take the trouble to write the words ‘thank you’ yourself, you do not deserve to have anything for which to thank anyone.”* Miss Manners would not allow printed thank-you cards, but Etiquetteer sees that that ship has sailed. They are Perfectly Proper to use now, but only when you write “thank you” in your own hand, too.

3. Something about the gift that you like. Please be more detailed than “It’s just what I wanted.” Why is it just what you wanted? That information will make the gift-giver feel pleased that they guessed well and actually pleased you. An important purpose of a Lovely Note is to reassure the gift-giver that the gift was received and that it gave pleasure. You don’t need to grease it up with a lot of Rhapsodic Wax; just a sentence will do: “It will look beautiful in the dining room with yellow flowers,” “You remembered our conversation about cooking when you chose this timer!,” “This has always been my favorite color.”

“But Etiquetteer!” you exclaim. “I don’t like this gift! I can’t believe it was given to me!” Well, that’s too bad, darling, but you must still send a Lovely Note. “It will always make me think of you” is a nice bridge between the value of your relationship with the gift-giver and your actual opinion of their choice.

Etiquetteer wishes you many things to feel grateful for, and an eagerness to express written thanks for them with All Possible Dispatch.

*Miss Manners’ Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior, page 374.

Sharing the News That You're Moving, Vol. 22, Issue 22

Dear Etiquetteer:

I hope you are doing well as this lovely spring season seems to take hold. My inquiry regards moving and the required (or expected) etiquette of telling friends and acquaintances that one has moved. Of course there is a short list of friends we are making a point of getting together with before we move, and so my question is about those other people. Is it acceptable to include the details in the annual winter card (about six months after we move) or should we send a “We are moving” note to friends beforehand?

Perhaps some details might be of help. We are moving from the Northeast to the Midwest in about six weeks. A variety of friends have expressed interest in visiting over the years, and given a notice from us, perhaps they’d like to make the trip now, or perhaps those were just niceties spoken without firm commitment.

As always, your expertise is appreciated.

Dear Moving:

You sound concerned about not just letting people know you’ve moved, but social invitations that might result from your news. Don't worry — Etiquetteer has ways to keep you from overextending yourself.

A change of residence, especially from one region to another, involves communicating with three different groups: people you know in the community you’re leaving, people you know already in your new community, and your wider network: family, friends, and colleagues. It’s better to share your news with the first two groups before you move, and with the last before, or at least not too long afterward.

Now, why is this? Your current neighbors and friends will get quite a jolt if they wake up one day to see the moving van outside, or text you to borrow a cup of flour to find out you’d have to send it from another state. Letting them know before the fact shows consideration for their feelings. A quick email headed “We’re Moving!” with the bare facts ought to do it. Express thanks for their friendship and neighborliness.

The message changes for anyone you know in your new area, where you will want to forge stronger ties right away. For them you’ll want to include why you’re moving, when you arrive, and possibly a date after which you expect to welcome visitors. You may also ask for advice about good local businesses, restaurants, etc. “Your recommendations will help us feel more at home as we adjust to this new place.”

For your larger list, Etiquetteer remembers from Days Gone By the address card that often accompanied a wedding invitation with the Happy Couple’s new contact information:

After May 23, 1933

Mr. and Mrs. Manley Firmness

123 Park Avene

New York, New York

You’ll want to elaborate on this; obviously there's no wedding invitation to explain your move. Perhaps something like this:

Dear Friends and Family,

Well, we’re doing it! We're off to [New City] to [take a new job/go to graduate school/be closer to family/avoid shoveling snow and/or fleeing hurricanes/retire] after all these years in [Old City]. After May 23, our new address will be:

Dewy Freshness and Manley Firmness

123 First Street

New City, New State, New ZIP Code

Please update your address books. We hope to see you if you pass through!

You wonder if friends might use this change of address notice as a Last Chance to Visit Card at your old address — or to invite you out for farewell festivities. Etiquetteer can’t quite tell if you are eager for them to do so, or anxious. With only six weeks left, Etiquetteer encourages you to drop that idea. You will be far too busy packing up things you forgot you owned, not to mention unexpected surprises, to take on entertaining houseguests — no matter how genuinely excited you might be to see them. And if you would rather not accept an invitation, just decline with Infinite Regret: “Oh, I really wish we could, but we are absolutely overwhelmed with arrangements, and just can’t get out at all. But thank you so much for thinking of us!” Please concentrate on a smooth move, and then invite them to the housewarming in your New City.

Etiquetteer wishes you the most stress-free move possible, and years of happiness in your new community.

Wine-Stained Tablecloths, Vol. 22, Issue 21

Dear Etiquetteer:

Is it true that some bluebloods use antique linen that has been laundered hundreds of times, especially if it has ancient wine stains as a way of showing they are “old money?”

Dear Dining:

Using the Good Stuff with caution but without fear is an important part of Perfect Propriety, including the more perishable Good Stuff like table linens. But Etiquetteer rejects entirely the idea that old wine stains might be used as badges of honor. Many years ago a dear friend proposed this possibility to Etiquetteer, but Etiquetteer has seen no evidence of it in research or in the field*. Indeed, Etiquetteer would almost class this as Ostentatiously Genteel. (I cannot remember who said “Gentility is what wealthy ancestors leave you when they don’t leave you their wealth,” but that is the exactly the spirit.)

Traditionally a white damask tablecloth defined a formal dinner. “Absolutely nothing else will do for a formal table setting,” states Margaret Visser in her excellent book The Rituals of Dinner: The Origins, Evolution, Eccentricities, and Meaning of Table Manners. “A great deal of its prestige rests upon the trouble such a tablecloth entails: it must be washed and pressed every time it is used, and a single stain ruins it.” [Emphasis Etiquetteer’s.]

White damask table linens have been known as costly articles, so obviously they can’t be replaced with every speck of gravy or red wine that falls on them. A few spots here and there might be permitted, but should never be discussed. Once it starts to look like a bloody skirmish might have taken place, however, it’s time to retire the cloth from active service, even if Great-Grandmother did receive it from the governor’s wife as a wedding gift. Snip out the stains and repurpose the rest for smaller tables, napkins, quilting, or even something to wear.

When the Unthinkable finally happens and a glass of red wine is spilled on your finest damask,** two things are needed immediately: salt and laughter. Pour the salt over the stain to absorb it, and pour the laughter over the situation to defuse it. Then once all the company has gone home, clear off the table, stretch the stained portion over a bucket, and pour a kettle of boiling water onto it from a height. Etiquetteer can’t remember where this Home Remedy came from, but both the heat of the water and its force hitting the material make a difference in purging the stain. Then launder as usual.

Etiquetteer wishes you acres of smooth, gleaming, and unsoiled white damask flowing over your table, and many guests around it with you deft enough not to spill anything.

*Etiquetteer is clearly too much the parvenu to receive invitations from these Old Money Families.

**Etiquetteer has done this, and it is so embarrassing.

Spinach (and Other Foods) and Teeth, Vol. 22, Issue 20

When Etiquetteer saw that today, March 26, was National Spinach Day, it was only possible to discuss the part of this Leafy Green that no one wants to mention: that speck of it stuck between your front teeth. There is nothing more frustrating than coming home from a party, looking in the bathroom mirror, and seeing a large dark green fragment of spanikopita or salad right there in that dazzling smile you’ve been flashing at everyone for the last four hours. What can be done about this?!

First of all, for heaven’s sake people, if you see something, say something. The smile you save may one day be your own. This does not have to be a Cecil B. DeMille production. Just say quietly and casually “[Insert Name Here], it looks like you have something between your teeth.” What could be more Perfectly Proper than that? If you are sitting across the table from someone, obviously you can’t shout it out. When you’ve caught their eye, tap your lip at the approximate place where their spinach has lodged, and hope for the best.

The tricky part about removing food from between your teeth is that no one else should see what you’re doing. So if your tongue can’t do the job and you need to “bring in the artillery,” you need to excuse yourself to the restroom. This includes using either a fingernail or a dollar bill, or even a quick sip of water to dislodge that Errant Bit. Toothpicks, obviously, were invented to solve this problem, but it is Absolutely Not Perfectly Proper to let anyone see you operate them in your mouth. The song “Eadie Was a Lady” included the lyric “She would have a golden toothpick handy//And after meals she’d wave it about” to underscore just how vulgar it was.

“But Etiquetteer!” you ask plaintively, “couldn’t I just hide my mouth behind my napkin or my hand?” Only if you can do so briefly. Holding your napkin up to your face too long will only attract the curiosity of the ill bred. This is just as true for ladies with fans.

Etiquetteer wishes you Perfectly Proper enjoyment of your spinach, in whatever form you prefer it, and proper dental hygiene away from the gaze of others.

Make Courtesy Common Again, Vol. 22, Issue 19

Etiquetteer completely missed that yesterday was National Common Courtesy Day. The theme of collapsing manners is as old as the nation, if not older.* But in this century Perfect Propriety has visibly “hit the toboggan” and seems to be speeding toward the abyss faster and faster. What now must we do to Make Courtesy Common Again?

Readers let Etiquetteer know what common courtesies they appreciate, and which ones they miss. Both Facebook and Instagram commenters met at the same place: the doorway. People miss having the door held for them, and they miss being acknowledged when they do hold the door. Now more democratic and less chivalric, everyone is invited to make the world a better place by holding the door for everyone else — but particularly those with mobility issues and those heavily laden. It’s easy to forget, especially for those of us absorbed in our phones, but so important to be aware of those around you. And truly, it doesn’t take much time.

In the same vein, one reader responded “Both parties [need] to move equally out of the way when passing each other on the pavement.” Sometimes there are good reasons this doesn’t happen — for instance, a narrow pavement or the presence of a baby stroller. More often than not, though, someone is just in a bad mood and stalking along with blood in their eye. Best to give ’em a wide berth.

One reader lamented “the increase in vulgar speech,” which absolutely cannot be denied. But can it be stemmed? Etiquetteer wants so much to believe that Setting a Quiet Example can still make a meaningful difference, and we should still do that. Alas, people worried about Bad Language too often end up the butt of the joke. Loretta Young had many fine qualities, but the “swear jar” she brought onto the set of any move she made didn’t exactly Win Friends and Influence People.

“Letting me know that you are leaving your table soon,” pleads another reader. Even before the pandemic diners-out were making trouble, not just by overstaying their welcome, but by making simultaneous reservations at other restaurants so they could follow their fancy — no matter how many other diners might be shut out, nor how much revenue the restaurants might lose. It’s one thing to linger a bit over one’s coffee, but quite another to keep the staff up until 3:00 AM. Etiquetteer blames My Dinner with André.

A concertgoer longs for the days when “People enjoyed the symphony in quiet, and without fisticuffs.” It’s been 16 years since the famous Brawl at Symphony Hall. While fisticuffs still seem very rare (and let’s keep it that way), the rise of smartphone use, and misuse, and malfunction, has disrupted the concert and theatre experience drastically. People . . . put it away!

Almost all of these concerns may be reduced to the humble need expressed by one Instagram reader: “Being acknowledged.” Whether it’s for a gift, a favor, a party, or the common courtesy of holding a door, people want to know that their efforts were noticed and (we hope) appreciated. People want to be told “Thank you!” And they also, as one final reader observed, want to be told “You’re welcome,” too, when thanks have been extended.

Our assignment, then, is to be more conscious of what people around us need, and in as simple and unruffled a way as possible, and with a smile. What could be more Perfectly Proper?

*Cleveland Amory cites chapter and verse on this trend in his too-often overlooked book Who Killed Society? Do look it up if ever you have the chance.

The Right to be Rude, Vol. 22, Issue 18

“I believe it was Voltaire who said ‘Sir, I disagree with everything you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.’” — Henry Fonda in Jezebel (1938)

“And anyway darling, we don’t say such things, even when we think them, we don’t say them!” — from “The Italian Lesson,” by Ruth Draper.

Anytime you compare someone to Hitler, things are not going to go well. That’s probably a variation on Godwin’s Law, that the longer a discussion goes on, the more likely a Nazi analogy is to occur. The latest result is a Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court ruling reinforcing Freedom of Speech, including “discourteous, rude, disrespectful, or personal speech about government officials and governmental actions.”* While agreeing with the ruling, Etiquetteer feels chilled about its prospects for Perfect Propriety. Aren’t things precarious enough as they are?

The facts of the case are these. At a public meeting of the Southborough Board of Selectmen back in December, 2018, local resident Louise Barron’s calling attention to violations of an open meeting law led selectman Daniel Kolenda to suggest that she was slandering town officials; he concluded the comment period abruptly. This led Mrs. Barron to compare him to Hitler, to which Mr. Kolenda understandably took offense. The result is this month’s ruling that “Although civility, of course, is to be encouraged, it cannot be required . . . without violating both provisions of the Massachusetts Declaration of Rights, which provide for a robust protection of public criticism of governmental action and officials.”

No one comes out of this well, particularly Mr. Kolenda; New England town meetings include a lot of taking local officials to task, and, as Dear Mother used to say, “If you can’t take the heat, stay out of the kitchen.” (It’s worth noting that he’s no longer on the board.) Mrs. Barron, who described herself as “oppositional,” was within her rights, but the Hitler reference was an unfortunate Bridge Too Far.

But just because one has the right to be rude does not mean one should be rude. Etiquetteer shares the concern of Geoff Beckwith of the Massachusetts Municipal Association**: “Will [the ruling] encourage the very few, very vocal individuals whose goal [emphasis Etiquetteer’s] is to be disruptive? The [court] is saying that’s the price of true freedom of speech.” One consequence could be that civic-minded citizens eager to do good in their communities will refrain from public life to avoid abuse — not criticism, but abuse.

Another is that bullies, confident that basic good manners cannot be enforced, take over. That’s why codes of conduct, like the Southborough “civility code” struck down by the court ruling, have an important function to serve: establishing behavioral norms that support the smooth running of a meeting. We will now have to intertwine Courage and Courtesy more strongly.

*Boston Globe coverage of the story may be found here.

**Quoted in The New York Times here.

Restaurant Parties, Vol. 22, Issue 17

Dear Etiquetteer:

Can you help me out of a hostessing dilemma? I like to take people out to dinner at restaurants rather than have them to dinner in my home. It’s less work for me, and with pandemic restrictions lifting, we all like getting out of the house and into the world again.

My dilemma is how to steer people away from the pricy end of the menu. When some of my guests actually realize I’m picking up the bill, they shift up to prime rib and champagne instead of something more usual. If I was entertaining them at home, that’s not what they’d be getting.

Etiquetteer, how can I set a boundary for my hospitality outside the home without looking cheap or embarrassing my guests?

Dear Hostess:

The idea of hosting a dinner party in a restaurant is so old-fashioned but gracious and delightful; Etiquetteer would love to see this make a comeback. Part of the problem is that Dutch Treat is more usual in restaurants: ordering whatever you wish and paying for it yourself (or splitting the bill evenly regardless of who ordered how much of what). Setting a limit within the illusion of boundless hospitality is a bit of a challenge.

Dear Mother was taught “A lady always orders from the middle of the menu” when invited out because a) you didn’t want to break the host’s bank account, but b) you also didn’t want to convey that the host might actually be cost conscious. If your guests are discovering that you’re picking up the bill as they’re opening their menus, it’s easier for excitement to tempt them. Instead, include “as my guest” when you invite them to lessen the shock. You might even drop a hint about a mid-level entrée: “Won’t you join me as my guest at En Economía Gourmet on the 18th? I’m so eager to try their tapas again.” Do that again when you’re all at the table looking at the menu, a subtle indication. Don’t send them to the restaurant’s website, not even for driving directions; it could lead them astray.

Dorothy Draper’s madcap book Entertaining Is Fun! includes many impractical ideas for hosting a private party in a public restaurant: selecting the specific table the day before, providing personal table linens and floral centerpieces, and having a personal consultation with the chef. Even in the 20th century, these preparations were unreasonable unless you were engaging a private dining room*. Try that now and you’re more likely to hear “Ma’am, this is an Applebee’s.”

One of Mrs. Draper’s ideas that might work is to order the entire dinner in advance**. (You will need to take into account everyone’s allergies, just as you would at home.) This way everyone gets the same meal, just as they would in your dining room. But this custom is so antique it could come as a shock to your guests, and it might even be too highfalutin’ for the restaurant you’ve chosen. And people have ridiculous ideas about not getting the same meals as anyone else in a restaurant, which Etiquetteer thinks is just silly. Possibly you could arrange for the host to offer you a limited menu of three to five entrées in your price range? Possibly some of your favored restaurants could print a special menu in their offices for your dinner.

Barring that, you could also consider increasing your budget, entertaining your friends at less expensive meals like lunch or brunch, or focusing your hospitality on those friends who do, in fact, order from the middle of the menu. Etiquetteer wishes you Happy Times With Your Friends and bon appétit!

*Etiquetteer loves the French term for a private dining room, séparée, as in the aria “Im Chambre Séparée” from Der Opernball.

**According to Olivier, the legendary maître d’ of the Paris Ritz, “only three people in all his experience knew how to order a dinner properly . . . the Prince of Wales (later Edward VII) would write two weeks ahead to order a dinner for twelve. Prince Esterhazy of Hungary would bring his own gypsy band and ordered his dinner for fifty one month in advance. And Elsa Maxwell would rush in six hours before to order a dinner for two hundred.” — from R.S.V.P. Elsa Maxwell’s Own Story, by Elsa Maxwell. Possibly the only one of these three not concerned about the expense was Miss Maxwell.

Buffets at Home: What You Will Need, Vol. 22, Issue 16

More people are returning to entertaining at home with the waning (we hope) of the pandemic. Buffet meals, at any time of day, are a wonderful way to do this, but do you have everything it takes for a stress-free occasion? Time to inventory the china cupboard and silver pantry! Let’s imagine a buffet dinner for 12 people, preceded by a cocktail hour, that involves stationary hors d’oeuvres, two hosts, and no staff. What will you need on hand, outside of the kitchen? The dressier your function is, the more important that all your plates and glasses match; for more casual functions, mixing and matching styles and patterns can be fun.

For the cocktail hour:

• Stacks of cocktail napkins, either cloth or paper. (Others may judge you, but paper napkins are Perfectly Proper. Etiquetteer has written about this before.)

• 14 cocktail glasses (someone is sure to mislay or break one).

• 12 coasters.

• At least one ice bucket.

• One or more water pitchers.

• Bar equipment: cocktail shaker, muddler, bar spoon, small bowls for garnishes like lemon peel or cherries.

• Three or four nut dishes for side tables.

• One tray or platter per hors d’oeuvres. Cheese trays are sometimes presented on cutting boards with small knives. Shrimp cocktail may be served on a platter, but is more impressive nested in a bowl of ice.

• Sauce bowls for dips or cocktail sauces.

• One or two small waste bowls for shrimp tails, toothpicks, and crumpled paper cocktail napkins. In houses that permit smoking, ashtrays often do double duty.

For the dining room:

• Stacks of dinner napkins, either cloth or paper. If cloth, be sure you have a couple extra.

• Tablecloth for dining room table.

• 14 dinner plates (extras for the guests who forgot to R.s.v.p. will save trouble later.) If you’re worried about portion control, use luncheon plates, which are slightly smaller.

• 14 dinner forks.

• 14 dinner knives, if needed, but Etiquetteer thinks it a kindness to serve dishes that can be managed without a knife, especially if people will need to balance their plates on their knees.

• 14 wineglasses, which may also be used for water; people certainly can’t manage more than one glass at a time with a plate.

• One bread basket, lined with a napkin.

• Two 9x13 casseroles (one for a meat casserole, one for a vegetarian casserole), each with serving spoon.

• One vegetable dish, with serving spoon.

• One trivet per hot serving dish.

• One salad bowl, with salad fork and spoon. (If salad includes cherry tomatoes, be sure to slice in half when preparing.)

• 14 dessert plates.

• 14 dessert forks or spoons.

• One cake stand or dessert platter, with cake knife, or, 14 ramekins for individual desserts.

If coffee is served:

• 12 demitasses or coffee cups and saucers. (Not everyone will want coffee.)

• 12 teaspoons.

• Three small coffeepots, urns, or thermal pitchers for coffee, tea, and decaf. (Tea drinkers sometimes feel slighted if their preference isn’t honored, and decaf drinkers may have medical reasons why they cannot have caffeine.)

• Cream pitcher, sugar bowl with spoon, and container for packets of artificial sweetener. (Etiquetteer has little patience with the galaxy of sweetening options available today. If people are going to be fussy about their sweeteners, they must bring their own.)

• Tray for cream and sugar.

That’s roughly 172 items, if you count a stack of napkins as one item — but then math was never Etiquetteer’s strong suit. These numbers can be reduced by inviting fewer guests, or eliminated completely by dining out. Etiquetteer encourages you to attempt the former first. Bon appétit!

From Dorothy Draper’s madcap book Entertaining Is Fun!

Stemming an Endless Flow of Words, Vol. 22, Issue 15

Dear Etiquetteer:

How would you advise a polite way of intervening when a person is talking non-stop?

A friend and I have been invited to visit a third friend who exhausts people with her nonstop talking. She can keep the one-way conversation going for a half hour or more, and listening to her can be tiring.

Should I raise my hand or clap my hands to get her attention, and then say it has been a long time since the three of us have been together and each of us has news to share.

Please advise. I don’t spend much time with Chatty Cathy, but she has been ill and I want to accept her invitation to visit.

Dear Listener:

The Voluble* have always been with us, and often they are people we care about very much. Sometimes they are very aware of what they’re doing, because they love the attention. But more usually they are just oblivious to subtle social cues — and even to direct statements if they are really engaged on their subject. Let’s consider how to head your Voluble Friend off at the pass.

When you accept the invitation, provide a teaser about your news to intrigue them. “I am so eager to tell you about my trip overseas/family scandal/job promotion when we get together!” This may prepare the ground that, in fact, someone else has something to say. On arrival, start off with your news before your Voluble Friend begins (if that’s possible). Keep it up for five minutes, and then at least you’ll have gotten your news out.

Once your Voluble Friend’s monologue has reached the 15-20 minute stage, and other interjections have not stemmed the flow, try repeating their name over several times until they stop: “Jehu (pause) Jehu (pause) Jehu (pause) Jehu (pause) Jehu (pause) Jehu (pause).” This may or may not include raising your hand. When you’re acknowledged, plea for equal time since your visit is finite. “We can’t stay all that long, and we have our own news that we want to share with you.” As a last resort, you may always rise to leave**. “It’s been a lovely visit, but I know you’ve been unwell and I do want you to recover your strength” may be read in more than one way.

Interestingly, almost the first Bible verse to appear on an internet search for “Bible verses about visiting the sick” was Job 5:21: “You shall be hidden from the lash of the tongue, and shall not fear destruction when it comes.” Use this as a reminder that your visit to this Voluble Friend will eventually come to an end. And visiting the sick is an act of compassion.

Etiquetteer’s Dear Mother used to say “This is an opportunity to practice Patience.” Etiquetteer wishes you strength, patience, and humor as you prepare to call on your Voluble Friend.

*So much nicer than saying “gasbags,” isn’t it?

**At a meal, of course, you are bound to stay through the end of the meal. But a visit needn’t be longer than half an hour.