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What's New, Pussycat?

Not much at parties, from this perch. So here are at least a few ideas you can steal.

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Illustration: Marcos Chin
They say there's nothing new under the sun, but apparently last year they found a new planet, or spheroid—Planet X, they’re calling it. Being old-school, of course I sided with my nieces in their support of Pluto as the definitive last planet, and even helped them with a Plutonian sculpture.

But the point remains that there are really very few new ideas. Nothing demonstrated this more clearly to me than the fact that after a summer of reporting, the biggest news I turned up was the return of the BLT, as an hors d’oeuvre. They were everywhere. On skewers. In cherry-tomato cups.
Even as tiny little wraps (the worst incarnation, too doughy). And for the most part, they were good.

Now, did every caterer come up with the idea of mini BLTs simultaneously? Was it in the zeitgeist? Or did somebody commit (gulp) idea theft?

Idea-lifters, take solace; I’ve decided I don’t care. Since these days every hip-hop song is a ripoff of some ’70s R&B number, and despite years of endless overuse the fashion world can’t seem to stop using the word vintage, this really is the era where originality doesn’t matter.

It’s how you steal it.For example, at Diddy’s MTV VMAs after party (remember when the idea of after-parties was new?), I noticed he wore a crown of the same design as Burger King’s. But his cleverness was in wearing it tilted, and pointing his thumbs out. In an August 26 New York Times Magazine column, Alex Kuczynski suggested that the best kind of book party is, in fact, the old kind of book party, where they only proffered white wine in a jug and cheese cubes. Enough with these overblown affairs where they serve good food and liquor at, say, the Four Seasons (although Kuczynski admits that she, like me, never turns down an invite to go there). I’ll wager that PR people everywhere are gasping with relief—nobody can screw up Jarlsberg and Soave. (Or can they? There’s still that pesky guest list.)

Then, during Fashion Week, a newly announced drug- and fat-free Marc Jacobs came under scathing criticism for starting his show two hours late. His partner had to publicly reassure critics that Marc was not drugging or downing cocktails at the Mercer hotel with his former pay-to-play boyfriend. Somehow they thought it better to explain that they kept 1,000 people (except for Anna Wintour, who, of course, got a call) waiting because Marc needed a shower.

The designer went so far as to tell people who have children to simply stay home next year, a strategy I found oddly fascinating. But wasn’t Mr. Jacobs just giving all those poseurs exactly what they want—a forum to mill, gripe, and stomp in their absolutely newest gear for hours? Remember when all the fashion shows were really late? People loved it; I remember magazine girls bragging about who could show up latest.

For my two cents, I’d say that the last great original on the New York social scene was Diana Vreeland. Her “Why Don’t You” column just cracked me up: Why don’t you wash your children’s hair in champagne? Why don’t you buy three Doberman pinschers and walk them all at once on pale braided leads from Marc Cross?

So, in her honor, I offer these new ideas, all free for the stealing. With apologies to D.V., for your next party, why don’t you ...

Hire three trumpeters and a stentor and announce every arriving guest, like they used to?

Hang a pretty sign at the door with colored markers, stickers, and stencils and have guests sign in and provide a lasting memento for the guest of honor?

Send cute tickets for big events, instead of making people wait in line to check in?

Ask men to wear a jacket and leather shoes, and to have showered within the last 24 hours? (The women mostly look OK, unless they’re photographers.)

Provide one seat or leaning area for every expected guest and see how much longer people stay?

Greet each guest with a hot towel to wipe the grime and tension of the day away?

Divide a party into rooms—“civilized,” “louder,” and “rockin’”—and let people choose the decibel levels for themselves?

Assign an escort to every photographer and insist that they ask before shooting?

Instead of a plain old bar, rent a cruvinet with dozens of interesting wines on tap and let guests serve themselves?

Pierce giant red and green cabbages with skewers of all different lengths and place a broiled shrimp or scallop at the end of each? Use a melon corer to carve a hole in the top for sauce. It should look like a seafood spaceship.

Hand everyone a small, proper linen hanky with their initials when they arrive? Wouldn’t it be great if you did that all the time, and soon your regulars would have a set?

Make sure the bathrooms are clean by assigning and properly equipping a custodian for each and checking them yourself periodically throughout the night?

Ask the DJ to skip “I Will Survive”?

Place a giant stopwatch on the front of the lectern, with a smaller one facing the speaker, so everyone knows who’s blowing too long and hard?

Take the money you would have to pay to celebrities and handlers and instead make clever dartboards of famous people who annoy you? (Bill O’Reilly and Gloria Allred come to mind.) Give prizes for whoever can hit Donald Trump’s or Rachael Ray’s nose the most.

Stop yourself, no matter how fast and frenzied, and think, What one change can I make that will enhance everyone else’s enjoyment? (Hint: It is usually air temperature, sound volume, or lighting level. Also, remember that asking guests to wait in line at your party is like calling a friend and then putting them on hold.)
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