Well, the organizers of Southampton Hospital’s 50th annual Golden Gala on Saturday certainly had my sympathy as I arrived at their annual summer throwdown on Wickapogue Road. The weather had been indecisive all day, occasionally spitting out rain and blowing wind, then breaking for a humid burst of sunshine.
It’s not that I was worried about getting wet—this is a tent party to rival all tent parties, and the cocktail and dinner stretches each feel as large as a football field. Even the entry tent is huge, which facilitates an efficient check-in and a chance to gander at the raffle prizes. (Such a simple idea, why doesn’t everyone do this?)
But a bad day at the beach makes for grumpy partygoers. A brilliant sun encourages all the ladies to go for broke, baring skin to show more tan and jewelry, and making their husbands kind of matchy-matchy with sherbet blazers or embroidered pants. But when the wife goes for gray or black, you can be sure that the husband will too.
I could see this was the case well before arrival because the Southampton police always make a huge deal of organizing the traffic—cones, motorcycles, flaming flares, you name it. So it takes a while to go the last block or so. Some partiers take their chances and park blocks away so as not to get stuck waiting for their cars at the evening’s end. It’s a cruel joke on the ladies, I think, making them trudge the last half mile in chiffon and heels, but a very entertaining fashion show for those of us queuing.
And sure enough, gloom seemed to be winning this weekend. Black chiffon pants and Escada-style beaded tops caught my eye, as well as navy blazers galore. Once inside, though the crowd was huge, there wasn’t the aura of anticipation that these shindigs sometimes bring.
Robbins Wolfe did the catering, but Christopher Robbins couldn’t tell me much about the menu, which was a buffet full of ideas from his partner, Ken Wolfe. But a few basics bugged me. This year, as last, they offered champagne cocktails (bitters, sugar, the works) in saucers on arrival, a great way to get things going, but maybe there were complaints last year or something (saucers are spilly) because the glasses were all half full at best. To my eye this is an absolute no-no, as all looked partially drunk. A champagne cocktail should be filled to the brim, and bending over for the first sip is a crucial element in the ritual, n’est-ce pas?
The silent auction here is always a big mixed bag, and I bid on a Chinese painting and a bench. I noticed this year they made a point of letting you know that confirmations would be sent by email. Call me old fashioned, but if you spend $1,000 on a prize, I think a live body should call. Plus, as I write this, it’s Tuesday and I still haven’t checked my email, so even if I’ve won I still don’t know—and have not sent a check. I’m sure there could be others.
Now I don’t know about you, but for me the color gold and the beach don’t mix. This was reinforced for me by the decor. Gold lamé streamers. Gold plastic oversize goblets with orange and white roses. (And yikes, the ones I checked in the cocktail tent were fakes!) Gold twigs spray-dipped in glitter glue. Well let’s just say it wasn’t my cup of goldschlager. The painted shells were better, but done in such a dark and dusty gold that I thought they clashed with the shiny vessels. Still, I pocketed a few.
There were highlights. Center tables (presumably for a higher cost) were squares with tangerine cloths and sent a clear message about who had ponied up more. While I’m not sure about the pay-for-show policy, the look was great, and I wished I was sitting at one—so I guess the envy effect worked on one.
Guests were told to wear gold, which only a few did. Again, I think gold at the beach is hard. Socialite Jamee Gregory pulled it off with a quilted gold lamé jacket over white pants—but she’s a real pro. For us regular folks, pulling off anything gold by the sea takes a deft hand.
[Update: Christopher Robbins, vice president of Robbins Wolfe, sent this response: "While I have always laughed and understood Ted's perspective on parties both good and bad, he should note that the glasses were not filled all the way to the top for a reason: because the tent sits directly on a field (no subfloor in the tent) and the ground is very uneven. And in order to be sure the drinks don't spill as the many drink waiters walked over the uneven ground, the decision was made to fill those 1950's-style champagne glasses with less liquid. A very wise choice if you ask me so that liquid was not spilled all over the drink trays and all over the outside of the glasses. Certainly we felt it would be far worse to pick up a glass from a tray that had possibly spilled as the waiters moved around."]
