Etiquette

Q. What should a host do when a guest says something so embarrassing in front of the assembled company that conversation grinds to a halt? Is there a way to pretend the gaffe never happened and jump-start the chatter? A dear friend (who drinks too much) recently regaled the dinner table with some excruciating information about her marriage. Everyone was struck dumb and I could not think how to break the conversational paralysis. —Name and address withheld A. The expression ‘But why bring this up now?’ can often stop a self-saboteur in her tracks. If the damage has been done, however, the host’s duty is to trump the indiscretion with

Q. Twice recently our host has clinked his glass, required us to stop relaxing and instead take part in a round-table discussion. My wife and are involved in the maelstrom of the Westminster village by day and we have had enough of it by the evening. Is there a courteous way to reject the request of a host attempting to hijack his own dinner party in this way? — Name and address withheld A. Clink your own glass and say your doctor has ordered that in the short term you don’t blur the boundaries between work and play and, since you would find it impossible not to join in, would

Q. My niece, who came to stay with me in the country for the weekend, arrived without cash and asked me to lend her some for the tip. I lent £30 which she assured me she would give back immediately, but though we live very near each other in London, she has failed to drop it round to me. It’s not that I’m desperate for the £30, it’s the principle. How, without being schoolmasterly, should I convey my disapproval so my dear niece, for her own sake, can clean up her act? — Name and address withheld A. Next time you see your niece, bring £30 out of your wallet

Q. Re. your letter from F.C. about the boyfriend leaving lids off (20 February), I have a similar problem. My husband has developed the habit of leaving all doors, drawers and cupboards open. I don’t want to nag, because he gets ratty when I do. I don’t think I can scatter insects in all the drawers and cupboards. We are 75 and 79. Any suggestions other than an old people’s home? — G.F., Woking, Surrey A. Why not use an aversion-therapy expedient? Explain to your dear husband that you don’t want to be a nag, so you are just going to accept that he leaves things open. Unfortunately, it means you will

Q. Former colleagues, with whom I got on very well in the context of the office, are buying a house near my own and say they are depending on me and my husband to introduce them to ‘all’ our friends in this area. This has been giving me nightmares. Like us, our friends down here are busy with jobs and children and would not thank us for foisting on to them new neighbours who would not be on the same wavelength. It’s a sense of humour thing. We are so tired we just want to relax when socialising. But I don’t want to be unneighbourly. How can I tactfully dispel

Q. I love my boyfriend but he has a terrible habit I was unaware of before he moved in. If he uses honey, Philadephia cheese, Sudocrem or anything at all with a lid, he leaves the lid off. He has been living at home until now and his mum spoiled him by never telling him off. I don’t want to have to follow him around all day or spoil our relationship by nagging him, because he actually gets quite petulant when I do and says: ‘Get a life.’ We are both 27. Any suggestions? — F.C., London W11 A. You will have to use a loss-leader technique to deal with

Q. I recently rediscovered a wonderful 22-year-old godson. He came to shoot for the first time and was a marvellous guest — impressing others to the extent of even receiving a potential job offer. He has wonderful manners but although he thanked us profusely while under our roof, he has not as yet written his thanks. Shooting thank-you letters are still much appreciated by hosts. It does not matter a jot to us that he has not written, as he is now ‘family’. However, as godmother, I worry that his maybe not knowing that a handwritten thank-you letter for a shooting invitation is de rigueur could jeopardise his success elsewhere.

Q. My husband-to-be and I both work full time. We are getting married from his family HQ and his kind mother has effectively done all the planning. She’s done it all with superb taste and efficiency so I am loath to be critical about the one thing I don’t like. She has ordered laminated name badges for all the guests, to be handed to them as they arrive at the reception, and is adamant they must be worn. She says they will help the elderly guests, but these make up only a tiny percentage: most are in their twenties or thirties. Do you agree that name badges would give an

Q. We have two granddaughters working hard and happily at university. It is our pleasure to give them some cash at regular intervals for books, rooms, foreign travel and, we hope, a lively social life. But we have just learned that they have each come under the influence of a new political leader, to whose party and cause they are making serious donations of cash. While appreciating their right to do what they want with our gifts, it is far from our wish to support a man whose political views we reject. Should we take the obvious sanctions? — Name and address withheld A. I consulted a member of my

Q. What can be done when more people than you can cater for accept an invitation? We are giving a two-hour 21st-birthday drinks party for our daughter. Our Chelsea cottage will hold a maximum of 70 but, adhering to the immutable law of party-giving, which is that a third of those you invite will be unable to come, I advised my daughter to send out a hundred invitations in the expectation that only 70 would accept. Calamity! For the first time ever the formula has failed and all one hundred have accepted. For various reasons we can’t change the venue and we have no garden to expand into. Is it

Q. Although I have met most of the fellow occupants of my building at residents’ meetings, we don’t socialise. However our newest neighbour, a Canadian, has now emailed all the other women in the building offering to open up her own flat for a bonding evening of drinks and nibbles and where we would watch a movie together. She has asked each of us to name some dates in 2016 when we would be free so she can co-ordinate an evening which suits everyone. From what I have gleaned at the residents’ meetings, I don’t fancy the sort of ‘hen night’ atmosphere which she might be envisaging. I don’t want

I have been alone in the country this festive season as my adult children and most of my friends are abroad until the second week of January. I have been perfectly happy to have avoided all the fuss about food, to have got on with some work, and to have walked my dog. My grown-up daughter was worried I would have no parties or fun, but this was mitigated by the fact that I had been asked to a local private dinner for an American writer who happens to be my literary hero. However, at a carol service on Christmas Eve I saw the well-connected woman with whom he is

From Nicky Haslam Q. Being considered something of a guru on the subject of things common, can you advise me how to finesse the host or hostess who asks, challengingly, ‘I suppose you think my twinkling decorations/strings of cards/mulled wine/sushi/antler headband/children are terribly common?’ A wan smile won’t suffice. A. Say, ‘Yes I do. You’re so clever to be in the vanguard. Common is the new chic.’ From Nigel Slater Q. With each passing year (I am nearly 60, for heaven’s sake), I am finding it increasingly difficult to lie convincingly. This is a particular problem when unwrapping presents. The grateful words flow from my lips like warm jam from

Q. Is there a tactful way to deter certain people from buying clothing for one’s tiny children as Christmas presents? I am not ungrateful, but over the last two years the very expensive clothes have been only worn twice — on the two occasions when the gifter came to visit. It seems so wasteful but I hesitate to suggest that I do not share her taste in clothing and she should save her money. — Name and address withheld A. No, you must not do that. Instead carefully insert the children into the clothing, leaving the labels intact. Take an old-fashioned snap (i.e. not digital) and post this as part

Q. I work in the London art market. Often, when I run into a fellow dealer and ask how they are in a friendly way, I get a reply along the lines of ‘It’s been totally mad. I’ve just come back from New York and I’m about to go to Hong Kong, then it’s Dubai the week after that…’ Clearly these people imagine that rushing around the world suggests that they are incredibly successful, when paradoxically all this exertion shows that unfortunately the opposite is the case. I usually say ‘Gosh you must be busy!’ but am beginning to feel that it would be kinder not to pretend to buy

Q. As an old trout, large in height and breadth, I have taken a leaf out of the documentary Advanced Style (which celebrates elderly chic) and purchased a pair of oversize specs with big solid frames, plain in style, not à la Dame Edna. My problem is that every time I greet a friend and get kissed on one or both cheeks, it is either a clash of specs or I bump them uncomfortably on the cheek with the frames. What to do? To whip the specs off before the greeting seems as if I am expecting a slightly more intimate hallo. To angle my head away seems a bit

Q. Might I suggest an alternative solution to E.B. of London’s problem (3 October) about the person sporting a ‘maddening’ blackhead at a poolside party? Surely a more tactful way of drawing the man’s attention to the blackhead would have been for E.B. to pretend she thought it was an insect that had landed. On failing to shoo it away, she could have exclaimed that it might be a tick and he should remove it and then offered to assist in this operation. The nuisance could thus have been dealt with without the poor man even discovering that he had an embarrassing zit. — J.P., Stratford upon Avon A. Thank