Parties

Tuesday

Mickey Down

New York, I love you, but I need to get home

I reached New York for the premiere of the fourth series of Industry in a mild state of delirium. I was traveling from Lamu, and it had taken four flights and 20 hours in the air to reach the US. Lamu is so beautiful that it briefly makes you consider whether to bother with western civilization at all. On the rickety flight to the island from mainland Kenya, I had sat next to a German count I vaguely knew. ‘You looking to get a little fucked up?’ he asked. I mumbled something about ‘family time’. He nodded and wished me luck. On New Year’s Day I ran into him again, by which point he had abandoned all pretense of dignity. It felt fitting, then, that I should follow this holiday with a work trip to New York to party with abandon.

parties
Cosmo Landesman

Why have parties suddenly gotten good?

Not long ago this month’s column would have been one long gripe about how the party — as a forum of fun — was finished. Partygoers, I would have moaned, had become more interested in big names and networking than in actually talking to strangers and having fun and blah... blah... blah. But something unexpected has recently been happening in London: people are throwing great parties again, and they are actually fun. I know, fun is one of those words that are so insipid and infantile I feel embarrassed using it. And yet the absence of fun from adult social life is a source of sadness. Even an old grump like me has been having a good time. I went to a party full of young, pretty, clever posh girls in Chelsea and they loved me — and I loved them!

Tuesday

Kelly Chapman

Why DC loves to hate Partiful

If you’re under 50, you may have noticed that Partiful has quietly annexed the American social calendar over the past year or two. The event-planning app, founded by former Palantir employees, began as another Silicon Valley toy, but it didn’t stay regional for long. Its loud dashboard aesthetic spread quickly through the Bay Area and then achieved escape velocity in Washington, DC. I wouldn’t be surprised if the strong cultural current between tech and defense is what created near-perfect conditions for a social revival in nerd world. While I understand a bit of snobbery over the aesthetics, I’ve been surprised by the constant performative disdain I’ve observed accompanying its rise. Everywhere I go, I hear people say they “hate” Partiful.

partiful

Tuesday

Ysenda Maxtone Graham

Against flakes

A new drinks-party-shirking method has taken hold in 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 onward throughout the day of the party, the host will receive a steady stream of apologetic messages. It happened to me last month, on the day of the launch of my debut novella at a bookshop.

Monday

The Spectator

In pictures: The Spectator’s book party with Rachel Cockerell

Strong cocktails and sparkling conversation were the order of the evening at The Spectator's first event in New York City at Palo Gallery. Author Rachel Cockerell spoke about her fascinating book, Melting Point: Family, Memory, and the Search for a Promised Land. Cockerell’s radical debut tells the story of the Galveston Plan: a forgotten episode in US history in which ten thousand Jews fleeing the persecution and brutality of the Russian Empire set sail for Galveston, Texas.It was standing room only for Speccie subscribers for the conversation between New York editor Orson Fry and Cockerell. Afterwards, the author mingled with guests and answered their questions. The evening nicely lubricated with white wine, beer and sake, graciously provided by the event sponsor SOTO SAKE.

Friday

Cosmo Landesman

A tale of two parties

This is a tale of two London parties. They say something about London society, status, power, fame and fun — but I’m not sure what exactly. Party one was what I call a Power Party. It was full of famous faces from the upper echelons of British politics and media. I spotted chancellor of the Exchequer Rachel Reeves talking to the former Tory chancellor George Osborne and the former foreign secretary David Miliband. Party two was what I call a Pulchritude Party — a dazzling array of beautiful women and handsome men. There was a mix of young writers, journalists, lawyers, filmmakers and artists. It did not have the high social wattage of name recognition that the Power Party had — but it had beauty and youth on its side.

parties

Monday

Cosmo Landesman

How to know when to let friends go

London When an old friend says to you, “we must meet up for lunch sometime,” you can be sure of one thing: you will never meet for lunch. Why? Because your friendship is over. The clue is in the word “sometime.” It’s a rain check that never gets cashed. It’s what friends say to each other when they feel obliged to see a friend they don’t really want to see — but they don’t want to dump either. We all have friends like these: I call them the Undead friends, when the friendship is neither fully alive nor totally dead. You don’t delete them from your contact list — just your social life. This will lead to the odd spasm of guilt but don’t worry; we all do it. And it gets done to us too. There are people you think of as your great friends.

friends

Monday

Harry Cluff

A brief history of parties

As Enoch Powell pointed out, “all political careers end in failure.” More often than not, those failures are self-inflicted. Without Partygate, for example, Boris Johnson might still be Britain’s prime minister. Although the debacle may not have been the final nail in his professional coffin, it certainly arranged the wake. His fans and critics alike were infuriated by the idea of public servants living it up while the rest of the nation was locked down during Covid in May 2020. That sort of scandal, however, is nothing new — anger at Partygate is nothing to some earlier episodes in history. Alexander the Great was an Olympian boozer who habitually went on weeklong binges after subjugating his enemies.

history

Tuesday

Cosmo Landesman

The death of good conversation

London  At London parties you can find plenty of smart beautiful women and handsome charming men. You can find a cornucopia of drugs and drink. And you can find someone who will sleep with you, marry you, publish you and best of all, flatter you. But what’s hard to find is someone to have a really good conversation with. Think about it. When was the last time you went to a social event and had a really interesting conversation with a stranger? You meet someone and suddenly you click: they get you, you get them. There’s no secret agenda — sexual or otherwise — just the pure pleasure of talking. And now that I don’t drink, take drugs or look for love, all that London parties have left to offer me is good conversation.

conversation

Wednesday

Timothy Jacobson

How to plan a suitable feast for New Year’s

It is commonplace that the December run-up to the holiday season (aka the Christmas season) is heavy with festivity. The well-lubricated office Christmas parties of yore were legendary, while at home the domestic calendar brimmed with all sorts of communal gaiety. This all occurred during Advent, which in the old Christian dispensation was a penitential season. Except when among the most devout, I was never able to see that this much dampened the fun. As the marketers now see it, the season of getting and spending stretches from somewhere around Halloween right up to Christmas when, all of a shameless sudden, it’s on to Valentine’s. This leaves New Year’s curiously — sometimes on the coldest night of the year — out in the cold.

new year's

Tuesday

Kara Kennedy

Why ladies really should leave their man at home

A handsome male is now an accessory. Even the not-so-handsome ones: women dress them up, choose their haircuts, and put them in silly little outfits that compliment ours for the silly little events we fill our evenings with. Like a gender reveal party. Honestly, whose idea was that? They should be held accountable. Some time over the last twenty years, we have decided that a man is no longer someone we choose to have around. He's an extension of ourselves. He doesn’t agree with you on literally everything? Sounds like a narcissist. He forgot your half-a-year-aversary? Honey, he’s gaslighting you. Or maybe his mercury is in retrograde or he has a different love language. At least you know he’s not screwing the neighbor. Men don’t do that anymore.

man

Friday

Cockburn

Cockburn’s Christmas party chronicles

Shaker Heights, Ohio This year, Cockburn’s annual call for Christmas party invitations took him all over the country: DC, New York, even to one to “the longest-running libertarian-hosted Christmas party in Ohio.” What type of libertarians were these? he wondered, as visions of a drug-laced hors d'oeuvre platter and laissez-faire lovemaking danced in his head. “The party has spawned one marriage and three children,” Cockburn’s invitation said, confirming his suspicion (and hope) that all libertarians are also libertines. The Ohio party was advertised as “multi-generational,” and Cockburn’s would-be hosts helpfully added, “We managed to kill no one attending during Covid years.

christmas party

Monday

Cockburn

Hillary hijacks the Sanna Marin dancing scandal

It’s been less than a week since the trailer for Gutsy, Hillary and Chelsea Clinton’s new Apple TV+ docu-series, was released — and now the former FLOTUS is seeking other means of stealing the limelight. On Sunday, she told Finnish prime minister Sanna Marin to “keep dancing,” in what seemed to be a selfless act of support for a fellow #girlboss. Forgive Cockburn for his cynicism but he can’t help but wonder if Hillary wants to make this all about her, seeing as the leaked video of the Finnish PM drunkenly dancing with friends was published online, er, twelve days ago. In a Twitter post, the ex-presidential candidate wrote: As Ann Richards said, "Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did. She just did it backwards and in high heels.

hillary clinton sanna marin

Thursday

Cockburn

In defense of Sanna Marin, Finland’s partying PM

Party politics is done somewhat differently in Finland. While Boris Johnson was hounded out in Britain for some miserable looking cake and wine, over in Helsinki, his counterpart finds herself in hot water for simply having too much (seemingly legal) fun. Sanna Marin, the country's thirty-six-year-old prime minister, is now facing criticism after a video of her partying with friends was leaked online. It features the Social Democrat leader throwing shapes to music with various Finnish artists, TV presenters and Instagram influencers — and all seems a fairly innocuous affair. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dvP84_orIXc&feature=emb_title&ab_channel=OldQueenTV Not so for her critics.

sanna marin partying

Friday

John Fund

Is Boris Britain’s answer to Arnold?

As the political stage that Boris Johnson stands on continues to shrink and become more unstable, I am reminded of how much his career resembles that of another larger-than-life celebrity. Last month, Arnold Schwarzenegger rolled his large black Yukon SUV over a red Prius in Los Angeles. The former California governor was uninjured, but the other driver suffered serious injuries and was hospitalized. Law enforcement sources told TMZ that "they believe the accident was Arnold's fault." They think Arnold made an illegal left turn at an intersection. There’s no word if he will be charged. The incident got me to thinking how both Boris and Arnold have a history of ignoring rules and creating mayhem around them.

boris arnie

Friday

Cockburn

Let Cockburn debase himself at your Christmas party

It is, as Andy Williams memorably put it, the most wonderful time of the year. Christmas party season has hit the Swamp — and naturally Cockburn is in his element. He has dusted off his dowdiest Clark Griswold cardigan and Santa hat. He has stocked up on milk thistle and Brita filters to abate the inevitable daily hangovers. His social calendar is quickly filling up with invites from think tanks, embassies and slightly grubbier magazines than this one — but it could be fuller still. Email your party invitations to cockburn@thespectator.

christmas party