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How not to go to a fancy party
Jun. 15th, 2012 09:41 amOy, social faux pas last night. Oy!
I went to the annual Smith Club of Oregon's Strawberry Social, which is a huge party and annual club meeting all in one, and I showed up NINETY MINUTES EARLY. It gets better -- because I showed up with STORE BOUGHT GOODS AND DIRTY SWEAT-ENCRUSTED HAIR AND NO HOSTESS GIFT and only the vague approximation of decent clothing...it one of those mornings where I didn't shower and then skipped it after spin class before remembering, oh shit the strawberry social.
(Of course, if I had bothered to check the time on the invitation, I would have had an extra ninety minutes to get all prettified! Jesus, my luck.)
Luckily, the hostess was so nice to me (love you forever Mary Ellen!) even though I could see it in her eyes that she was tactfully not judging my hair and outfit, and I helped her with the last of the preparations in her massive, immaculate home up in the fancy southwest hills. We chatted about Nabokov and Wharton and Stacy Schiff (my reading list is getting quite long now) and also about kitchen design and travel and Dear Sugar (who's coming to our book club in September!) then I entertained an elderly alumna with Alzheimer's (still sharp as a motherfucking tack) who arrived 20 minutes early with her caretaker. I served as aide-de-camp for the night, moving chairs, ferrying coats, filling creamers, setting out trays of shortcake etc. But then I had to leave really early, since I'd planned for 5:30-7:30, not 7:30-9:30.
My god. Never again. Never again! So embarrassing. But also, good reminder that when in extreme situations, grace is possible.
About half the guests...this is slightly less crowded than last year, still a great turnout. I love my Smithies.
I went to the annual Smith Club of Oregon's Strawberry Social, which is a huge party and annual club meeting all in one, and I showed up NINETY MINUTES EARLY. It gets better -- because I showed up with STORE BOUGHT GOODS AND DIRTY SWEAT-ENCRUSTED HAIR AND NO HOSTESS GIFT and only the vague approximation of decent clothing...it one of those mornings where I didn't shower and then skipped it after spin class before remembering, oh shit the strawberry social.
(Of course, if I had bothered to check the time on the invitation, I would have had an extra ninety minutes to get all prettified! Jesus, my luck.)
Luckily, the hostess was so nice to me (love you forever Mary Ellen!) even though I could see it in her eyes that she was tactfully not judging my hair and outfit, and I helped her with the last of the preparations in her massive, immaculate home up in the fancy southwest hills. We chatted about Nabokov and Wharton and Stacy Schiff (my reading list is getting quite long now) and also about kitchen design and travel and Dear Sugar (who's coming to our book club in September!) then I entertained an elderly alumna with Alzheimer's (still sharp as a motherfucking tack) who arrived 20 minutes early with her caretaker. I served as aide-de-camp for the night, moving chairs, ferrying coats, filling creamers, setting out trays of shortcake etc. But then I had to leave really early, since I'd planned for 5:30-7:30, not 7:30-9:30.
My god. Never again. Never again! So embarrassing. But also, good reminder that when in extreme situations, grace is possible.
About half the guests...this is slightly less crowded than last year, still a great turnout. I love my Smithies.
