Etiquette

Q. Since my husband began to appear in the Rich List he has become much more popular with ‘artists’ in our wider circle and we receive enough private view invitations per year to last us a lifetime. My husband is a kind man and will often buy something he doesn’t particularly want just to be supportive. He recently made an appearance at a neighbour’s local show and bought the least awful picture he could see. Now we hear the girlfriend of this artist has been telling friends she is going to challenge my husband over his meanness because ‘it would have been no skin off his nose’ to have bought

Q. My wife and I are enthusiastic dancers so when we heard that people we know through mutual friends were giving a party on a sprung floor at Cecil Sharp House in Regent’s Park with ceilidh dancing and a caller, we were desperate to go. The trouble was, we hadn’t been invited. We knew there was no sit-down dinner to complicate things and logic told us that the hosts would probably welcome additional numbers of willing dancers. I was too shy to telephone them and put them on the spot by asking if we could gatecrash. We are now kicking ourselves for not having been pushy, as our friends say

Q. The setting was dinner for 16 at one of Europe’s most civilised houses. Sitting on the right of the guest of honour (sixty-something) was a blonde beauty (twenty-something) who stared into social media on her iPhone for the entire first course. The crime was compounded by the light from the iPhone focusing on her grinning face. The conversation was obviously disrupted as she was totally ignoring her neighbour. Believe me, Mary, this girl was brought up to know better. The issue was that our host had turned to his right so couldn’t see what was happening. I felt I should have intervened but could not see how to do

Q. A friend’s daughter is marrying soon. She and her husband-to-be, both art-lovers, have dispensed with a wedding list, instead asking that each of the 200 guests give something they have made. My husband and I are loath to add to the mountain of garbage the young couple will feel honour-bound to find roomspace for. Would it be kinder to come empty-handed? — M.D., Wiltshire A. The request may be less naive than you think. It would be well worth storing 198 pieces of grot if, for example, David Hockney and Bridget Riley were to be among the guests and delivering something handmade. Meanwhile you could compromise by knocking up

Q. My daughters and I were recently taking our seats on an aeroplane. From behind us came the recorded refrain ‘If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands’. Several further verses ensued. A toddler was watching something on his dad’s phone: he was too young for earphones. I turned and asked politely for the volume to be reduced or turned off. The dad replied, ‘Well, if you’d rather hear him screaming.’ I simply asked again that the volume be turned down, and it stopped shortly afterwards. No screaming ensued. But might there have been a better rejoinder to the father’s annoying response? — A.C., London A. Assuming a

Q. When going out to dinner I’ve found some people will send everyone a list of the other guests so we can avoid the ‘What do you do?’ questions. I’ve now taken to doing it myself. I like this approach. However, when I asked a friend to tell me who my fellow guests would be at her dinner party, she became very angry and refused. As a result I missed talking to someone I really wanted to meet until we were putting out coats on to go. Is it very naff to provide pre-lists? J.T., London W11 All guests would much rather know who else is coming, what they do

Q. We moved recently and new neighbours invited us to join them for dinner at a nearby restaurant. I planned to offer a contribution — perhaps to pay the cost of our meals — but no explicit arrangement was made beforehand. Our friends began by ordering champagne for themselves, while we confined ourselves to glasses of wine. One of them had turbot, which was twice as expensive as any other main course. Without consulting us, they ordered successively two bottles of Chassagne Montrachet. The bill when it came revealed that these had cost £62 each, and the total came to about £350. I produced my card, which was laid beside

Q. My super successful son kindly gave a birthday dinner party for me in a glamorous London club. I have never used scented candles — I worry about the fire risk and, more recently, about the alleged particulates. No scent beats fresh air. So what should I make of the fact that when I unwrapped my presents the following morning, I found that 20 out of the 50 were scented candles? I am not the sort of person who takes offence, but are my friends trying to tell me something? — Name and address withheld A. Since you don’t have to rip off the packaging in front of the donor, candles

Q. I know it’s a gaffe to ask a doctor for medical advice at a party, but what is the etiquette when the roles are reversed? Recently my own doctor has been bearding me for advice on selling furniture. Sometimes he telephones for more than half an hour. As an expert in the field, I’m happy to help him out, but when he is the one giving the advice he charges me £200 for a 30-minute consultation. It’s not about money. I would just like to tease him about this unequal playing field or at least have the satisfaction of knowing that he recognises the irony. Any advice, Mary? —

The language that President Barack Obama used was evidence of skulduggery, Nigel Farage declared. ‘The UK is gonna be in the back of the queue’ if it leaves the European Union, Mr Obama said, standing next to David Cameron in front of a gilt and stencilled Victorian wall in the Foreign Office. There! Americans say stand in line, Mr Farage suggested, so Mr Obama must be delivering words fed to him by the snake Cameron. Some reports had Mr Obama saying at the back of the queue, unconsciously adjusting his words to the British English idiom, rather than in the back of it, as though it were an estate car

Q. A friend of mine’s husband is in his nineties. They are a delightful couple but the husband has started refusing to wear his hearing aids. As a consequence his loving wife has to shout at him to get him to do what she wants — which is only ever something that is to his own advantage, for example go for a short walk in the garden, or go to the television room where there is something on in which he will be interested. In order to achieve a result she has to bawl her lungs out. This is exhausting for her. How can one persuade a recalcitrant old boy

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.