Etiquette

Dear Mary: How do we get more men to our singles’ events?

Q. Last year I decided to share a flat with an old, but not very close, friend from school. It was a rushed decision because I had no one else at the time. But she’s far more anxious than I’d imagined. She seems to struggle with the concept of emotional independence. I try to keep boundaries but it’s hard when a person lives with you. As well as all this, she is messy and doesn’t have enough money to pay for the cleaners, so I’m on the hunt for a new housemate. I feel bad casting her aside as she works in the local bakery, and she’ll be hard-pressed finding a deal as good as this. What should I do? — Name withheld, London W10 A. Break the news with a beaming grin of positivity.

Dear Mary: How do I get guests to help with the washing up?

Q. My daughter is temporarily living abroad and we communicate daily on WhatsApp. She’s always desperate for any local news/gossip and I try to send her what I know, so she doesn’t feel too far away from what’s going on. A fellow parent in the village has now told me that my daughter forwards these titbits directly to others, often citing me as the source. I don’t want to gain a reputation for gossiping but neither do I want her to feel cut off. By the way, I have already tried saying ‘Just between you and me’, but her generation seems unable to understand the concept of discretion. They apparently think all information is for sharing – even the sensitive stuff. What do you recommend I do, Mary? – Name and address withheld A.

Dear Mary: How do you swerve a dinner party bore?

Q. I went to a supper party and sat beside a man who seemed rather pleased with himself. He never once asked me a question about myself, but proceeded to tell me about his children. They seemed to all be super-successful in their fields… hedge-fund manager, top lawyer, etc. The problem was that he had seven, and I found it hard to keep concentrating. Luckily, by the time he was about to tell me about number five, we had to turn for the next course. Mary, what should I have done to have made the conversation less one-sided? – Name and address withheld A. You might have halted his flow by enthusing: ‘I’m so glad you’re daring to tell me all this.’ Pause.

Dear Mary: How do I get my friend to clean up after her dog?

Q. Every so often we’re invited to our friends’ house for lunch or dinner. It’s close by and the house is beautiful, warm and comfortable. But whatever time we’re asked to arrive for dinner or lunch, we don’t sit down to eat until at least two hours later. The back door of the house enters on to the kitchen and without fail a raw chicken or unpeeled potatoes will be sitting there when we arrive. How our friends came to believe that this much time spent with each other before the meal was a good idea is a mystery. Mary, how can I let them know it’s entirely unacceptable without hurting their feelings? – M.G., Connecticut, USA A.

I walked out of my son’s nativity play

To walk out of a public performance before the end – be it the theatre, a concert or a lecture – is not the done thing. It’s considered an antisocial act that disrupts the performance and thus other people’s pleasure. To walk out provokes tuts of disapproval and scowls of indignation. And yet while it’s something we all disapprove of (at least in theory) it’s also something we all secretly long to do. Who hasn’t sat and squirmed in their seat at some tedious piece of theatre and wondered: how much more of this must I suffer? And who hasn’t been subjected to one of those long, sycophantic interviews with some self-adoring author flogging their latest book and not prayed for the courage to make a run for it?

Dear Mary: How do we stop our generous host putting us in the worst room?

Q. Around this time of year a successful friend likes to rent an expensive ski chalet with cook and fill it with friends. Guests pay for nothing except air fares and tips and he invariably invites me and my partner to join the house party. Regrettably, one thing does mar our enjoyment. Without exception, he always puts my partner and me in the worst room. We think he reasons that, since most of his guests are used to luxury and we are not, we will mind the worst room the least. But the fact is we love luxury too and would really enjoy an upgrade. We can’t think how to protest without seeming ungrateful and/or chippy, but can you see a solution, Mary? – W.B., London W5 A.

Dear Mary: How do I avoid getting shown up by a more chivalrous bachelor?

Q. My godfather, who has managed to get me a valuable internship in the Far East, has also sent me a business-class ticket to fly out there in the new year. I have seen how much the ticket costs (£3,800) and would much prefer to cash it in, go economy (£694) and spend the balance when I am there. But would it be rude to suggest this? – Name and address withheld A. First check with your godfather that he meant to buy you a business-class ticket – his secretary may have done it in error. Then offer to go economy. If he refuses, then make the most of the opportunity, but don’t try to cash the ticket in as the airline’s computer is likely to inform him of the change. Q. I’m a bachelor and as a spare man I often get asked away for the weekend.

Dear Mary: Can I remain friends with someone who has a frozen face?

Q. A close friend of my own age, 52, has had various things done to her face and now looks different. She definitely looks younger than 52 – certainly when photographed – but in real life the effect is just weird. I feel I can’t properly communicate with her, i.e. ‘read’ her. I have said this to her but she clearly thinks I’m just envious because she’s offered to front the money for me to have the same treatment. We are at an impasse. How can I rescue this long-term friendship when I don’t enjoy interacting with a frozen face and dread seeing her? – S.H., London W11 A. No need to fall out with this old friend. You can still have a laugh with her over the phone, on a walk or on a long drive. Q.

Dear Mary: How can I catch a ‘re-gifter’ out?

Q. I live in a small house in Hampstead and have taken in a friend of a friend as a lodger. He pays me a reduced rent for use of one of my spare bedrooms. I like him, but the agreement was that he would occupy the room for two nights a week; this, however, has started to slip into him being there for three, and often four, weeknights each week. I am livid but don’t know what to say to him. Neither I nor the friend who put us in touch with each other has any idea whether he is taking advantage of me or has just become forgetful. He is a widower. How do you think I should tackle this?  – S.M., London NW3 A. Collude with an imaginary friend (let’s call her Bertha), who will play ball to help you solve this dilemma.

Dear Mary: Can I retract a party invitation without causing offence?

Q. A very likeable woman has joined the company I work for and also just moved to my village. I said I would give a drinks party for her so she could meet a few people. My husband told me we should have a cap of 20. Now my colleague has asked if she can bring her two twentysomething children and their partners. This skews the numbers slightly, but the bigger problem is that she has also asked three neighbours of mine who have never been in the house before. She said she ‘assumed they would be welcome’. Well, there is a reason these three have never been in my house, and without wanting to sound pompous, their being entertained by me will disrupt the social ecology of the village. They will start asking me back and I will have to spend years saying no.

The rise of the on-the-day party drop-out

A new drinks-party-shirking method has taken hold in British society. I call it ‘Lastminute.non’. Previously, the way of not going to someone’s party was to write a polite message of refusal at least a week in advance, giving the host or hostess ample time to absorb the sad but inevitable fact that various friends would not be able to attend – usually for copper-bottomed reasons, such as that they had other plans for the evening or would be away on holiday. The new trend seems to be to accept an invitation, and then, mere hours before, to duck out of it. This means that from breakfast time onwards throughout the day of the party, the host will receive a steady stream of apologetic messages.

Dear Mary: Do we turn up at a party even though no written invitation arrived? 

Q. An extremely old friend is a successful purveyor of high-end goods. Last time we saw him he invited us to a forthcoming Christmas party in Mayfair for his clients and people who have helped him get clients. We never got the email invitation, so I texted him and he said: ‘Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t send it. I’ll do it today.’ But two weeks later, still no sign of it. Do we just go to the party or not? If we don’t go we fear he might be cross that we had ‘taken offence’ when no written invitation arrived. Yet we also fear that he may have decided he doesn’t want us because he now has too many Big Spenders coming and doesn’t have room for us. – M.F., London SW3 A.

Dear Mary: How do we tie down an invitation to our friends’ holiday home?

Q. Some friends of ours have an amazing house on the coast in Kenya. Every time we see them they are guaranteed to say ‘You must come to stay, you’d love it’ or something similar. No dates are ever forthcoming but we have decided we’d actually quite like to go this winter. How can we tie them down without making them feel pressurised by our having suggested dates? –  Name and address withheld A. Choose the dates which suit you, then contact them to say you are thinking of going to, for example, Tanzania, or other likely adjacent spot around that time. Is there any chance you could come to stay either before or afterwards?

The lost art of the insult

Imagine I were to begin this column by remarking that a woman preaching is like a dog walking on its hind legs. It is not done well, but you’re surprised to find it done at all. Dear me, that would never do, even in as cheeky a magazine as The Spectator. Then try instead: ‘Dr Johnson was no admirer of the female sex. “A woman’s preaching,” he said, “is like a dog’s walking on his hinder legs. It is not done well; but you are surprised to find it done at all.”’ I could get away with that. An antiquated opinion, safely attributed to an 18th-century writer, enclosed behind quotation marks and decorated with a few cobwebs, can still be sneaked past our 21st-century censors. But how about a more recent offensive remark?

Dear Mary: How can I turn down invitations without offending people?

Q. I was recently lent six books by a friend I see regularly for yoga. I was bemoaning the fact I didn’t have a novel on the go and she said she would bring one or two she has really enjoyed for me to borrow. I have read one and started another but I can tell they are not really for me. How do I get around this conundrum without insulting her taste in literature? – H.E., Tavistock, Devon A. Can you return them saying you ended up only reading one because you’ve rediscovered your passion for something like knitting? Also do say what you thought of the one you did read. As for insulting the taste of your friend, you are presuming too much to think that she will be insulted, rather than pitying you for your poor taste. Q.

Banish the B-word!

The SS Californian deserves more than mere footnote status when it comes to its role in the story of the RMS Titanic. For that was the name of the ship that sent repeated messages to the crew of the doomed cruise liner, all of them warning of ice ahead. But the Titanic’s wireless operators weren’t interested – to the point where one employee dismissed the Californian’s communications with a reply that read: ‘Shut up, I’m busy.’ Of course, the Titanic wireless crew weren’t really busy at all. They were simply spending their time sending private telegrams on behalf of the first-class passengers on board. A few hours later, well, we all know what happened. But we haven’t yet gone public enough with the overuse of what was, back in 1912, an absolutely deadly adjective.

Dear Mary: Should I leave a tip for my hard-up friend’s imaginary daily?

Q. My son’s new girlfriend is really sweet but my husband and I find it annoying how she puts her hand in front of her mouth when she’s eating. A friend has told me that a lot of that generation do it for some reason. Any clever ideas as to how we could stop her, Mary? – Name withheld, Oxfordshire A. Gen Z (aged 13-28) often instinctively cover their mouths when eating for fear of social media consequences if photographed. However, the habit must stop now the girl has entered civilised society. Enlist  a compliant child, aged roughly six, to join you at the table and cover her own mouth when eating. When questioned by the grown-ups, the little girl can declare: ‘I’m copying “Lucy”!

Dear Mary: How do I avoid offending old friends if I don’t recognise them at a party?

Q. I am shortly to attend a big London party at which I will see many old acquaintances. However, first there was Covid, then I went to live in New York: so while other guests have been seeing each other on and off over the past five years, I have not. I will undoubtedly keep offending people as I fail to recognise those whose appearances have inevitably changed but who will have no difficulty recognising me as I am on television. Mary, how should I prepare for this? – P.M., London W8 A. Get hold of a pair of thick-lensed glasses – perhaps from a charity shop. Snap them in two at the bridge. Bring these out of your pocket when people approach and show them saying: ‘You’ll have to tell me who you are. I’ve just broken these and I can’t see a thing.’ Q.

What makes a gentleman?

The venerable magazine GQ, or Gentlemen’s Quarterly, has issued some 125 diktats about what it takes to be a gentleman in this world of Zoom calls and equality. GQ is, however, no longer quarterly, and some might say it hasn’t been read by gentlemen for some time. Ought we, then, to listen to it? Many of its ‘expert’ pronouncements are baffling: what is ‘popping a Zyn’? Most of the suggestions are about bringing fancy olive oil or luxury candles to parties. (Note to readers, though you won’t need it: don’t.) It also suggests that gentlemen should beclothe themselves in ‘loungewear’, a word which ought to make anyone shudder. Well, I’m sorry, but unless it’s a silk dressing gown from Jermyn Street, I think not.

Dear Mary: do my AirPods make me look like an imbecile?

Q. My printer is broken, so I asked my neighbour to print off a letter for me. It was from my doctor. I wanted to show it to my husband, who hates reading things on a computer. I hadn’t realised it had two attachments on the bottom with information of a very personal matter. Our neighbour kindly came round with the print-offs, including the attachments. We used to walk our dogs together but now I am so embarrassed I can’t look him in the face. What can I do? – Name and address withheld A. Contact the neighbour to arrange a dog walk as per normal. When you meet up, burst into gales of laughter and claim that you cannot believe that he fell for your practical joke: ‘We went to so much trouble to fake that letter and attachments.