Given the removal of our normal method of communication with the wider world and our sojourn with Artemis Scotland, I have come to realise that many of you are beside yourself with worry as you can no longer access the archive of my musings. I have been greatly moved by the number of you who have urged me to share, once again, my advice to how to hold a cocktail party and equally how to behave at such an occasion and be the most simply marvellous guest. Therefore, I have decided to put you out of your misery and once again provide you with the benefit of my “je ne sais quoi” on all matters concerned with cocktail parties. Let us return to 1955 and my wise words of guidance.
The Running Buffet is Not The Total Solution
I have been deeply moved by the fact that so many of you have seen my running buffet as a form of salvation to your insecurities regarding being hostesses. In one sense this is a useful device but, and I must add a note of caution here, only in the most informal of circumstances. A New Year’s Day party with close family and friends is ideal for such a buffet, especially when domestic help is likely to be minimal or as in the case of Mrs Travers in an advanced state of “vinous dilapidation”.
The running buffet is a help yourself affair and this will not do for more formal occasions as, to put it quite frankly, it can suggest in the novice hostess an element of what we might call laziness. It suggests you do not really care about your guests, which usually on New Year’s Day, or Ne’er Day as we call it in Scotland, you do not. Indeed, there can be few greater pleasures than shutting the door on the final straggler to leave your “open house”.
Let’s start from the very beginning.
For a formal occasion a running buffet is out of the question. This is not going to get your husband a promotion or your daughter into St Senga’s . On the other hand you should not be too ambitious to begin with, so forget for the moment kitchen suppa, suppa proper (that is in the dining room) or, heaven forefend, a formal dinner party. These are for the postgraduate.
Begin your life in formal entertaining with a simple cocktail party. I am fortunate, I know, in having Jasper who makes the most marvellous cocktails; as does my dear friend the Handsome Stranger, with whom I have had many a shake over the crushed ice.
The Place and Time
Your own home is the appropriate venue. It does not have to be luxurious. Taste has nothing to do with income, look at Cousin Lulubelle! No; even the smallest home, clean as a new pin and welcoming, will do. You can do so much with a tin of emulsion and some flowers, but we will look into this further in the future. I recommend two cocktail parties a year. Not all one’s friends will get along and those who come to one do not necessarily come to the other.
Send out written invitations asking people to R.S.V.P.. This is usually done from three to six weeks in advance. Of course some of the grandest people one knows often simply use the telephone and give a casual nature to the affair saying something along the lines of “I know this is so last minute Dahling, but we are only just back from Mombassa and it wouldn’t be the same without you; do come as you are.” Of course it is neither unplanned nor casual.
Cocktail parties are from 6.30 until 8.30pm. Stop serving at 8pm and people will get the hint. Some close friends might be asked to say on for suppa, but make sure it is a simple peasant casserole that will not spoil as there are always those who don’t take a hint.
Sunday at 12.30 pm is another favourite time, this assumes you are coming from church and going on to someone else’s for lunch. However, this is a gathering for sherry, or drinks’ party and not a real cocktail party. Cocktails are never served before 6pm.
The drinks are of course cocktails if you can manage them, but gin, whisky and sherry with mixers will do if you are nervous. The best and simplest cocktail is one of champagne and that always gets a party off to a good start. For Christmas nothing beats some mulled wine or spiced punch and remember not all of your guests will be drinking alcohol although as this is Scotland this probably means they are drying out (as in the case of Lady P-F) or are from Mars. It is in any event good to have a fruit cup of some sort on hand.
Although Jasper and I are not smokers it is only polite to fill the cigarette box with coloured cocktail cigarettes and plenty of ashtrays – those in Scandinavian glass make you look fashionable. Myself I think it is a deplorable habit which I hope one day will die out and once again we will be able to see from one end of the drawing room to the other.
As for food, this should be of the sophisticated finger variety, both hot and cold, beautifully garnished. It should be served by the hostess and some paid help. One’s woman what does is usually only too delighted to put in a few extra hours for 10/- and the leftovers. For the hostess it gives an opportunity to circulate and move people on as well as to show how skilful she is with sausages on sticks, miniature vole au vents and tiny mince pies with melt in the mouth pastry, or at least mine do. Men love this sort of thing and will say, “well I shouldn’t but I will” as they stuff their tenth little winkie in honey and mustard into their mouths and continue to bore their neighbour with tales of the latest Rover engine modifications or their insight into how America will deal with Indo China or if you are really lucky their P.O.W. escape committee experiences during the last unpleasantness.
If you are the guest and not the host or hostess the following may help. Arrive a little late and leave a little early. Never stay on unless already invited. Come bearing gifts. Alcohol is unnecessary – this is not a dinner party – and suggests your host may not have enough for your needs. Gifts are a token, nothing too lavish that would be vulgar. Do take homemade sweets and chutneys etc, but do dismiss your own efforts, “Oh Caroline it’s nothing really it’s been at the back of the pantry forever” (even if you had to spend the morning in town looking for it). Or “it was my grandmother’s secret recipe, she gave it to me with her last breath, during that last fatal bout of yellow fever caught while sailing through the Panama Canal.”
Make sure you devote a good deal of attention to the wrapping; this is in many ways more important than the content especially if you have your own handmade decorations and found a little man down the lane ”who does calligraphy and, my dear, he does it for the love of it.” You should never speak to anyone for more than five minutes or this could lead to interesting and meaningful conversations which you don’t want really, this is after all a cocktail party not a dinner party.
If you are to maintain a reputation in the West End, you must be seen to be busy at all times. You may have to attend two cocktail parties in one evening and remember you are always going on somewhere else even if it is just back home.
Regarding dress, it is important to remember that a cocktail party is formal. So for the ladies, cocktail dresses or long are the ideal, the latter suggesting you are going on to the theatre or suppa elsewhere. And if it is good enough for Coco, it is good enough for you – so a black dress is always desirable. A cocktail hat and evening gloves complete the outfit. A cocktail hat is small and unobtrusive, a dress rule completely ignored by Lady P-F.
For gents, black tie of course.
For Sunday invitations to sherry parties, dress as if you are coming from church even if you have only just got up. Country tweeds are acceptable for men and women, but ladies remember you are not coming from a wedding, so don’t overdo it. Remember rich but not gaudy, for the apparel oft proclaims the man as Polonius said to Laertes in Shakespeare’s Hamlet by William Shakespeare.
If you take my advice, you will be on the road to being the perfect hostess or guest and achieve greatness.
And so ladies, there you have it all the way from 1955.
May I take this opportunity, with Jasper, to wish you a very happy 1959 when it comes. The decade seems to have swept by at such speed!
Lang may yer lum reek, which reminds me I most phone the sweep again.
à bientôt
Muriel
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