Mary Killen

Q. How does one go about getting invited to a wedding? Two friends of mine from university, who I have not managed to stay in touch with since we left three years ago, are getting married this summer, and I would very much like to go to their wedding but, understandably, have not been invited. The thing is, I knew them both separately, and was there when they first met each other, so it would feel appropriate to be at the wedding as well! And it would be lovely to see them. Any ideas? — Y.O., by email A. A two-pronged attack should be used. Send an email, ideally enclosing early pictures of the couple together.

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 to do the decent thing and wear his hearing aids? — M.K., London W11 A. Your friend can spare herself the indignity of shouting like a fishwife by making recordings of regular instructions.

Q. I have a daily problem with knickers. I am size eight so not obese, but I find the sort of tiny lacy thongs I am expected by my peers to wear to be really uncomfortable since they always ride up. What should I do? — C.B., Oxford A. The tyranny of thongs has already peaked so I am surprised you have not ‘cottoned on’ to the new craze for M&S pure cotton full briefs (£5 for a pack of five). The term briefs is misleading since they are actually bottom-sized, with high waists and full coverage of both buttocks. Even so, many girls of size eight are buying them in size l6. Roomy pants can trump thongs in sensuality since the roominess is a pleasure in its own right — think 1950s tennis pants.

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 something more sensational.

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 they mind pausing the discussion until you have gone home. Q. My godson recently turned 18 and I invited him to dine with me at my London club to receive his birthday present.

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 and hand it to her saying solemnly, ‘I think it’s very bad form not to repay a loan within the agreed timespan so I feel ashamed to have taken so long to give this back to you.

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 have to place mousetraps within the drawers and cupboards whose borders are now porous to rodent ingress.

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 the newcomers’ presumption that we will provide some kind of springboard into a ready-made social scene? — Name and address withheld A. You don’t have to introduce them to your real friends.

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 this. Collect dead insects from window corners. Your friends will have plenty if you have none yourself.

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. How can I tactfully convey this? — O.A., Suffolk A. Email the boy promptly. Say ‘I must have given you the wrong postcode.

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 unromantic corporate flavour to our wedding reception? How can we overrule her with tact? — Name withheld, London SW10 A. Your concern is misguided.

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 panel of experts with your vexed query. My advisor is a pillar of probity and wisdom and professionally involved in money management.

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 ever acceptable to uninvite people and, if so, how? — A.P., London SW3 A. No, it is never acceptable to uninvite.

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 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 staying, and she didn’t mention anything about seeing me for dinner on 5 January. I’m worried that she has forgotten. She is very friendly, but also flaky.