Mary Killen

Q. I am getting married next year and I read with interest your recent correspondence concerning public medal-wearing. I am a former Royal Auxiliary Air Force member and had hoped to wed in uniform. Sadly however, several years ago forces beyond my control meant I had to retire from the RAuxAF, and so I cannot now wear uniform, having returned it to Her Majesty. Could you ask your regimental adjutant friend what his views are on wearing my medals at such a very public celebration, please? M.S., by email A. I think the previous advice holds: ‘I would never wear medals when attending a funeral or memorial service. In fact, the only times I would wear medals in plain clothes are Remembrance Sunday, Black Sunday, and perhaps at some sort of national memorial event.

Q. The forthcoming Chatsworth attic sale has inspired me to stage a similar, though much smaller event. The problem is opposition from my 85-year-old mother, who resists any kind of change and does not like to see things going out which she imagines could be put to use at some stage in the future. Our attics and farm buildings are bursting with things which will not see active service again — monogrammed unwieldy suitcases, meat domes, rusty scythes, etc... but they are things which would do well in a so-called country house sale because of their ‘provenance’. How should I tackle my mother, Mary? Name and address withheld A. The sale you mention will take place at Chatsworth between 5 and 7 October, with viewing between 1 and 4 October.

Q. Please can you advise on a matter that, although seemingly trivial, is causing some tension in our household. Like many families, rather than spreading butter on our toast at breakfast time, we have switched to one of the supposedly healthier alternative low-fat spreads. Our problem is by what name should we refer to this new product? My wife continues to ask if I’d please pass the butter, but as it isn’t butter, I find this irksome. If I refer to it as margarine, she is annoyed by the implication that we are using some inferior low-quality butter substitute. To request that someone passes the low-fat spread is hardly elegant. Please, Mary, can you advise on the correct terminology? C.S., Woodbridge, Suffolk A. Why not use the word ‘lubricant’?

Q. I am a British MEP which is, you will agree, a heavy social cross to bear. For six years I have tried to set a sartorial example to my fellow MEPs, wearing nothing that did not emanate from Jermyn Street or Savile Row. Now an old rugby injury to the knee necessitates the wearing of orthopaedic shoes. The design of these shoes is so appalling I fear people who do not know me might think I am foreign or, worse, a British Liberal Democrat. Can you help me to find a solution? G.B., by email A. You are right to be anxious. Shoe-ism is an underacknowledged factor in social discrimination. The doorman of the legendary nightclub Studio 54, when asked how he could possibly judge at a glance whether people were cool enough to be admitted, replied that he simply looked at their shoes.

Q. I arranged to meet my son at King’s Cross to hand over some camping equipment for him to take to the Secret Garden festival. I planned to go by Tube (from Balham) but the load was heavy. I justified the ordering of an expensive minicab by the thought that I could work in the back seat on some admin. Instead, my driver struck up a conversation and, engaging though I found him, it meant those vital minutes (30) which could have been so productive were lost. How should a passenger cap a driver’s flow without being impolite or hurtful? J.F., Balham, London A. Text a friend to call you ASAP. Answer saying, ‘I’m so sorry. I will have to call you back.’ Turn to the driver saying, ‘Oh dear. Someone is hassling me.

Q. Next month my husband and I are taking guests for a week on a boat in Turkey. They are people we do not know very well. Since a lot of our guests are Americans they will not be drinking very much and I wonder if you can suggest any ways in which we might break the ice in these slightly claustrophobic conditions? A.A., London NW1 A. Try an after-dinner game, The Ark, which has been a great hit this summer at house parties. Everyone takes an animal’s name out of a hat. The room is plunged into darkness and you must find your ‘partner’ animal by barking, baa-ing or roaring. The next step is to strip off all clothes down to underwear and swap clothing with your partner. The first couple fully to exchange clothes (no need to go as far as underwear) will be the winners.

Q. I have had very discreet surgery to improve a jowly effect I was developing. I did not tell anyone I was having it done as my parents would be horrified if they found out. I believe I look much better but no one has complimented me and I am worried that this is because I have overdone it, and people are embarrassed. In the absence of a confidante (no one I know can keep a secret) how can I find out if people suspect I have had something done and if they think it a mistake? Name withheld, Kent A. Say to a sequence of friends that you are thinking of having ‘corrective surgery’ round your jowls. Stress the word ‘corrective’.

Q. My godson, who has just finished his A-levels, has always wanted to work in television or film production. I would like to help him get an internship but, although I am a journalist and have some friends in that world, they all say their books are full. If only they would just meet him. The boy is charismatic, hard-working and witty and would be quickly seen to be a great asset in any team he joined. He has written hundreds of letters but to no avail. I would hate to see his charisma diminish when summer ends and he has no job in sight. What do you suggest, Mary? C.L., London W12 A. The boy is young. He should change tactics in the short term and re-brand himself as a cleaner or male nanny or gardening skivvy.

Q. At a recent funeral wake I was horrified to see a man who did much to make my life a misery during my schooldays. I have no wish to see this man again or to have anything to do with him. My attempt at avoiding him at the wake was unsuccessful. Instead he made a point of confronting me in front of other people and telling them that we were schoolboy contemporaries. This is not the first occasion this has happened, but the time was not right to comment on the unhappiness he caused me. He knows that I don’t have an identical twin brother so I had to grit my teeth and indulge in small talk. I would be very grateful if you could suggest what I should do if, as I am sure will be the case, this situation arises again. Name and address withheld A.

Q. Last year we were invited by dear friends to country house opera, which was wonderful except that we discovered afterwards that we were expected to pay for our tickets — over £100 each! I gather this is fairly normal practice. But we dread being re-invited this year. How can I decline without having to admit that the price is too high? Figaro, Home Counties A. Most people are now happily admitting that they can’t afford things. We are all in this together. The trouble is that such an admission may result in the host insisting on paying for one. To pre-empt this, you should decline such invitations immediately. There is no need to elaborate on why.

Q. I have three children in their early twenties. There is a fashion in their circles not to know each other’s surnames. They always introduce themselves to each other, and to one, by Christian names only. Perhaps they feel it adds to the mystery of their lives. Last weekend, however, I had 32 of my daughter’s friends to stay for a party. Only when they were leaving and were signing the visitors’ book did I see their surnames and realise that three of them were children of old friends of mine. By then it was too late to catch up with news. How can I get around this frustration, Mary? A.E., Pewsey, Wiltshire A. When the young arrive at your house, produce the visitors’ book and ask them to sign in rather than out.

Q. I am an elderly widow and have never been a demonstrative person. Recently, a young lady who frequents my circle asked if she could hug me: I have no particular feelings for her, and had no hesitation in saying no. Since then she has made a habit of pouncing on me when I am conversing with someone else or otherwise occupied, and hugging me anyway. She has turned it into a game that I have no wish to play. I do not wish to seem to overreact to this behaviour; but I value my personal space and would prefer not to have it invaded. How can I deal with this without giving offence? Would a sharp jab to the solar plexus be considered vulgar? Thank you for your consideration of my plight. M.J., by email A. A jab to the solar plexus could be good.

Q. The other night I took my parents to an upmarket eatery to celebrate my birthday. The food, wine and service were exceptional, but the music was so loud that one had to shout to be heard. My father suffers from slight deafness and had great difficulty hearing the conversation. Two polite requests to turn the volume down were met with straight refusals, which ruined the evening for my father and left us all feeling a bit flat. Given the trend of increasingly loud music in restaurants, is there any advice you can give those of us who prefer to talk to, rather than shout at, those we’re eating with? N.P., Perth, Western Australia A. Some diners prefer background music to become foreground since mental vacuity can thereby be masked.

Q. What should I do when other people in church begin clapping, for example following a confirmation service or a wedding? I cannot bring myself to endorse this terrible breach of etiquette by clapping myself, but it seems terribly pompous not to join in with the enthusiastic crowd. Name and address withheld A. Clapping is quite out of place in church but we must be thankful for the presence there of those who do not know this. Just act daft, as do those who do not wish to offer the sign of peace. Either kneel and pray or simply stare ahead with a silly look on your face. The moment soon passes. Q. I have been invited to a wedding in Ireland. I have an aunt, who lives almost next door to the bride’s home, with whom I can stay for the weekend.

Q. May I pass on a tip to readers? I always used to feel a bit embarrassed if, when leaving a drinks party at about 9 p.m., people stopped me to ask where I was going. Usually I am going back to a dreary supper on my own but it seems so dull to say so. Moreover, admitting it often leaves one open to being corralled into an expensive and protracted restaurant experience. I have now found that the Daily Telegraph Court & Social pages are a useful source of inspiration for these occasions. Before going out I simply check the Today’s Birthdays column. If caught short, I claim that I am on my way to a dinner to celebrate the birthday of some obscure lord-lieutenant or admiral whose name I have seen listed in that morning’s paper. P.T., London SW3 A.

Q. I am of an age when I’m invited to coming-of-age parties for my friends’ children. As several of them are well-heeled and the children over-indulged, it has become customary to buy very lavish gifts, which I find ostentatious and can ill afford. I like attending these functions, and relish the opportunity to catch up with old friends. So I devised a trick: I write a thoughtful card, stick a piece of sticky tape to it and then artfully attach a ripped piece of wrapping paper. On arrival, I slip my card among the groaning pile of gifts. To date there have been no repercussions. I hope that the sentiments of the card have been appreciated and the accidental detachment from the gift has been glossed over.

Q. A dear friend was recently introduced to a woman my wife and I dimly recall as a casual acquaintance from our children’s schooldays whom we had found rather aggressive. She asked for our telephone number, explaining what splendid friends we used to be and, unaware of our true sentiments towards this woman, our friend gave it. We ignored the message she left on our machine. Now she is pressing our friend to organise a get-together, suggesting we probably didn’t get the answer-phone message. How do we save our friend embarrassment and avoid meeting up with our one-time acquaintance? Name and address withheld A. Press 141 to achieve ‘number withheld’ and ring the woman from your mobile while holding your radio, set to interference, up to the receiver.

Q. Further to your correspondence with ‘name withheld’ of Yokohama, I have a recurring problem with my beautiful Japanese wife of many years and I was wondering if you could help. Here in Australia, when meeting people for the first time, they often ask, ‘Where did you meet your wife?’ I then usually explain that we met here in Australia. But if they do not ask, therein lies the problem because I know they may be silently coming to the wrong conclusion. It is common here for desperate, lonely farmers to purchase ‘mail order’ brides from the Philippines and other poor countries. My worry is that I don’t want people to think that that was how we came to be together.

Q. My wife and I live in a very pretty, modestly sized farmhouse. It comes with two barns to scale and since long before I met her, friends, and friends of friends, have been in the habit of asking my saintly wife to store things for them, while they get their lives and accommodation together. Now both barns are completely full and we cannot use them ourselves at all. The worst offender is taking up one whole barn. This dear woman, who was turned out of her previous house, perhaps for having 22 cats, had moved all her possessions into professional storage and was paying an iniquitous £125 a week. We told her she could pay us £50 a month but that she must pay, and the things must stay with us for no longer than six months.

Q. May I offer an alternative solution to the query from Yokohama last week? A 60-year-old man wrote that people complimented him on his girlfriend’s looks — but in a manner barely concealing amazement that he has managed to attract such a beauty. When this happens, I would suggest he reply: ‘Yes, I agree. And the wonderful thing is that everyone assumes I must be much richer than I actually am.’ N.P., Winchester A. Thank you. This complements my own suggested response. Apologies to T.E. of Yokohama to whose letter I attributed the wrong initials. Q.