I enjoyed Tina Brown’s Daily Beast post about the death of Robert Isabell, “Farewell to the King of Parties” (July 12), up until the end, when she did the obligatory linking of his passing to the end of the proverbial big party. “Our revels now are ended!” her piece ends (without Shakespeare’s attribution, by the way).
Maybe it’s a result of having sat in that Vanity Fair top seat; from there everything else is downhill. Remember Graydon Carter after 9/11, eclaring “the end of the age of irony”? Now he can be found most nights monkeying around the Monkey Bar, his second high-priced and low-access bôite, and, well, isn’t that just a little bit ironic?
Why are people always so quick to prognosticate about the end of an era of excess, but no one ever announces, “Hey, now is the time to put the pedal to the metal”? If Goldman Sachs really made more money than ever last quarter, where’s the shindig to celebrate? Instead of spreading a little wealth around by hiring a caterer or even filling a restaurant for a night, the bankers are secretly shoveling their money out the back door.
What a bunch of killjoys.
Luckily, the urge to rouse, gather, imbibe, and gyrate never goes away. In fact, I’d argue times like these are when people need a good party most.
I threw a dinner for 40 to 50 guests in July. When I told a friend the planned menu, she suggested I skip the lamb chops—too expensive, sends the wrong message—you know the drill. But I wanted this to be a real party, to surpass their expectations, and nothing beats passed choppers for a sense of treat. And it worked: After clams and crab cakes and seafood skewers, guests were surprised with meaty lollipops—they commented—and everyone stayed, everyone danced, the bar got drained, glasses got broken.
The next day, even one typically critical attendee praised my bravery. “You went over the top. That party had tricks up its sleeve.” And so did I. The truth is that buying Australian lamb chops in bulk and serving them when guests were already well fed cost way less than the steak tenderloin sandwiches I usually serve at this kind of throw.
Party planners of the world, consider this a call to arms. You are doing God’s work! Don’t give in to the P.C. notions! Throwing a big, successful event is not a sin!
Of course, attention should be paid to the new realities.
So herewith, my dos and don’ts for this recovery season.
Do announce a charitable donation for every single event, regardless of the format. Nonprofits have been hit harder than you have, and when you add this element, guests can exhale and relax a bit more.
Don’t pay celebrities to attend or perform. It’s gone too far. If you’re doing a benefit and you can’t find stars to donate their fee, then you aren’t looking hard enough. For a commercial event, announce that you’re giving the celebrity/entertainment budget to charity.
Do go old-fashioned with a printed invitation. That doesn’t mean be a Luddite. Use recycled paper and supplement it with an online invite and R.S.V.P. option. Just remember, the U.S. Postal Service got nicked, too.
Don’t serve things that the food police can object to. Even I’ve (largely) given up seafood predators. You realize once they’re gone, all we can eat is jellyfish, right? Sardines and anchovies are still O.K., I think. [Yes, consumption of sardines and anchovies is considered to be ecologically safe. For now. —Ed.]
Do use less ice. Europeans laugh at us Americans who spend so much on top-shelf hooch, then dilute it with a glassful of frozen water. Tell bartenders to use one or two cubes unless directed otherwise.
Don’t use an iPod-based sound system. Most MP3 files have lost some of the song’s original file detail to compression. It is the musical equivalent of driving drunk.
Do provide proper escorts, security, and private holding areas for talent and honored guests.
Don’t have a visible V.I.P. area. It’s so gauche.
Do invite people with a guest. Trying to save money by not doing so is a losing game. Some people you want won’t attend, and the ones who do will enjoy themselves less.
Don’t bore people by bragging about using local wines or sustainable food. Just do it and shut up about it.
Do ask cell phone users to step outside or into a closed-off area. As with smoking, if you’re not partaking, it’s revolting.
Don’t serve trophy wines, foie gras, or Caspian Sea caviar. You just can’t anymore. (But unless told otherwise, I am down with domestic fish eggs.)
Do ignore people who say there is a whole new set of rules. Self-satisfied prognosticators are so full of it.