Summer wears on.
And with it, its own permutations of social life. In the rearview? A spring party season that was definitely the busiest in many years — a hive of benefits, launches, openings and just-’cause parties in town.
One Thursday in June, for instance, brought with it four galas in one night. Kulin Matchhar, one of the most dependable of social bunnies in Toronto, estimates attending 65-plus events during the spring season — from dinners, galas and fashion shows to “donor events” and “art parties.”
Boom or bust, though? Despite the sheer volume, the talk here is of a party paralysis in Canada’s largest city: an atrophy that is, in many ways, a long hangover from the pandemic. Five years on, all the “physical distancing” created a culture that is etiquette-challenged and unsure about the IRL thing. In part, this is due to our fixation with our phones, which has altered all human interaction. So many events seem tailored to how they’ll live on our feeds and guests themselves are so busy posing they’ve lost the ability to be. Emily Post weeps!
“Let’s be honest, contemporary entertaining is long overdue for a refresh,” confirms mainstay socialite and author Rana Florida.
Concedes Matchhar: “People want to feel welcomed and included, not like extras at a photo shoot.”
Fact: it’s an affliction that affects both party givers and takers. Particularly when it comes to “RSVP disorder”: getting people to commit! In a world fuelled by scrolling and swiping, too many treat invites as a suggestion.
On this, I defer to what Lauren Santo Domingo, a queen of New York society, once advised on the subject: “Reply to an invite right away. Busy, productive people respond quickly. Lazy, chaotic people reply late.”
Adds Matchhar: “No-shows and last-minute flakes are the new pandemic-era bad habit.”
On a macro scale, after a couple of decades covering the social scene, I often lean on the two best pieces of advice I’ve ever heard. One: “Assume everyone is grieving” (the idea that everyone is going through a private battle and to give people a break). Two: rather than leading with the dreaded “What do you do?” at parties, try “So what is your world?” (more open-ended and likely to travel down cheekier paths).
What of problems at a broader event level, though? Based on my own observations, and with input from other prowlers, I’ve identified a few.
What does this invite even mean?
You never get a second chance to make a first impression. Isn’t that the adage? It certainly is with the vagueness of invites these days. “If something starts at 7 and it has some vague word salad, like ‘Join us for an evening of XYZ,’ does that mean a seated dinner? Passed apps? Or just nothing?” The biggest peeve of renaissance woman Nathalie Atkinson.
A lack of specificity also gripes Solmaz Khosrowshahian, a.k.a. @TheCuriousCreature, a prodigious “content creator” who attends many Toronto events. “Attendees need to know … if there’s a formal agenda or speeches, what the dress code is, if the host plans to capture any commercial content … give guests the information they need to plan accordingly!”
A new ulcer? Invites that declare a start time but no finish. (If something’s at 6 to 8, the guest can instantly glean the party will crest at 7!). A recent Holt’s cocktail/fragrance panel did it right: it had a time for the cocktails, the start time for the panel, how long the panel would last, plus what time you were expected to leave. Departèz, SVP!
Digital invites are nothing new but, post-COVID, we’ve seen a spike in QR codes for entry, sometimes with automated forms to fill in — even for bougier events. Is there anything that robs a party of its glamour faster than a QR code? It’s all so ArriveCan app.
On the guest side of things, Florida says firmly: “Lateness is out (especially for dinners). Being late throws off the rhythm.”
Wanted: A host
“Everything has become so transactional and robotic,” says Khosrowshahian. And one of the reasons? The absence of an identifiable host at parties. Lost: the vintage concept of an aide de camp; someone greeting guests when they arrive, going around and saying, “Thank you for coming” and making intros between people.
It’s something the old-school PRs knew how to do instinctively, and the new guard — so focused on how the parties play via hashtags — often forget. The case, sadly, at a summer cocktail that jewelry company Tiffany hosted recently in Rosedale; the party was fabulous, the caviar divine. But there wasn’t anyone playing host, per se. The very “why” of the party, as a result: a mystery.
Likewise: the new role of socialites. You’ll go to a gala and these folks are not “owning” the room, unlike the so-called “Glitter Girls” who once ran Toronto. They’d go from table to table, person to person, not just talking from the stage, Evita-style, honeying even those they didn’t particularly like. “You kill them with kindness,” Catherine Nugent, one of the last remaining “Glitter Girls,” likes to say.
It’s the mix, Dahling
People are the best decor: something I’ve long maintained. That is to say, whatever the specific boo-boos at a party — the playlist, the flowers — much will be forgiven if the crowd is right. Ideally that means younger and older, the “high” and “low,” usual suspects and not; possibly even someone scandalous. With parties, as with fashion, I subscribe to the famous maxim by Diana Vreeland: “We all need a splash of bad taste … No taste is what I’m against.”
For guests, this also requires commitment. As singer Rufus Wainwright says: “You have to be athletic and work the room. Separate from your partner. Both of you should cover each side.”
For Florida, who prefers intimate “salon-style dinners with real conversation” — like one she and her husband, Richard, hosted here at Milos recently — the “best energy comes from a dynamic mix.”
Also recommended: casting your dinner like it’s a movie and made of what culinary sage Laila Gohar calls guests falling into two categories: “characters” and “glues.” The former are “big personalities, the life of the party. Glues are good listeners … hold conversations together. You need the right balance.”
Oh, and don’t forget to smile! And hostess Helen Field, who moved to Toronto from the U.K. recently, says: “Ask questions.”
“Be open and engaging,” she continues. Research the hosts! Research the charity! “It helps to be up across the news generally, but specifically in the area of the event.”
As for the delicate dance of extracting yourself from a conversation there are a few useful phrases to have in your arsenal. You can say: “You mustn’t let me monopolize/keep you. I’m sure there are other people you would like to talk to.” Or “Have you met XX? I’ll introduce you (then do so and slowly bow out).”
Simplify in concept — but dress up
One thing, re: restaurant and club openings, in particular: they’re “usually too over the top,” says Vivian Vassos, editor-in-chief of Bold Traveller. “Planners trying to throw as much at the wall (as) will stick. Tulum in Toronto? A 40-page menu? A cut of meat more expensive than my rent?” Too often parties miss the mantra of taste: Keep It Simple.
“Too many events feel like they’re trying to do too much: less is more. Let the room breathe,” echoes Matchhar.
Conversely, Vassos does believe that guests should dress up more. “We have so few reasons to do that these days and better to be a bit fabulous than to feel you may have miscalculated.”
One plea, though, according to Khosrowshahian: “Don’t hover near the kitchen or wherever servers are emerging from so you can be the first to grab food. Not a good look. Eat a bit beforehand so you’re not chasing trays!”
“No matter what the occasion,” reminds Field, “you should always write to thank your host, preferably the next day and even if a few days have elapsed.” Email or text is fine, but a handwritten note (that endangered species!) will make you stand out from the crowd.
Swag needs to live up to its name
Intentional: the key when it comes to swag bags. Otherwise, they risk being more drag than swag.
A sayonara gift can be a nice gesture, but so often the bags in this town read like a mixed salad of sponsorship flyers, a random baseball cap and a tanning bed discount card. In fact, the bags themselves can be superfluous. We need a moratorium on tote bags! And, yup, chill on the logo’d caps, too.
Some things make sense, like going to a product launch and leaving with Oreo cookies, as at the party held at Sounds Good on Dundas West for the new Selena Gomez version of the famous biscuits. But the classiest parting gesture I can recall at an event this year? At a swanky opening bash for the new Jacobs & Co. Steakhouse on Bay Street in May came a card informing that the restaurant had made a donation to the Meals for Families charity on behalf of guests.
P.S.: Because swag bag culture seems to have seeped into dinner parties I’ll just point to what Tatler says on the topic: “Dinner parties are not corporate occasions or shop openings. They are deeply personal. Absolutely no goodie bags allowed.”
Last but not least, it’s always safer to say “Nice to see you” then “Nice to meet you.” And if it wasn’t clear, a party ain’t a therapy session. Sad sacks need not apply. “Fun is non-negotiable,” adds Florida.
Oh, and get off your phone.
