twosocialgraces's Blog

Blooming Wallflowers

As the summerseason burst into full swing, I eagerly anticipate a slew of events—cookouts, beach parties, weekend visits, golf/tennis/boat outings.  But parties are not everyone's favorite thing.  In fact, for some they are downright torture.  If you have read even a paragraph of this blog, you will know that I am not one of these people, but I host frequently and I've seen it all...

Yes, the harsh among us will say, "If you hate parties, then don't come", but it's often not that simple.  Maybe your wife is an extrovert and really wants to go.  Maybe your boss is hosting and it is obligatory if you want to advance beyond envelope licking in your current career.  Maybe you have been invited dozens of times before and used every excuse in the book--according to your litany, everyone you know is dead, since you have "attended a funeral" to avoid the last year of invites, you no longer have any nonvital organs left, having used the gall bladder, appendix, and tonsils operations, and you are contemplating giving up a kidney as an excuse for this weekend's do.  Grace says, don't. 

I have a fail-safe strategy for the reluctant party guest to make the experience a bit less painful:

Get a job.  (No, not a 40 hour a week gig with benefits and 2 weeks of paid vacation, but a party-related task to avoid that uncomfortable, idle, solo time you spend holding up the wall.)  Make it something that will keep you busy through the event and will help you circulate. 

Suggestions:

--answering the door

--dealing with coats (or whatever seasonal acoutrement applies)

--bartending or refilling drinks

--passing/replenishing food

--taking pictures

--DJ

Each of these gives you an automatic conversational topic and reason to interact with fellow guests.   "Barack, Michelle, let me take your coats.  You can either come get me when you leave, or find your coats in the closet at the top of the stairs.  The bar and food are that way, and the hosts will see to your drinks in there."  These jobs also give you an instant exit strategy.  "Would you like a cheesey bit?  Oops!  Tray's empty; must refill!"

Be specific in your application; Gracious hostesses might be hesitant about putting guests to work and could avoid giving you a task.  Say, "John, I make a mean martini;  I would be happy to help out behind the bar.  Back in college, I was always the steady bartender at our fraternity parties and I loved it!"  or "Cindy, I worked for a caterer in a former life and always got a kick out of butlering the snacks.  Can I help you out with that this evening?"

Hosts:  be aware of your guests.  I always appoint someone the "lifeguard" at my parties.  This is a close friend who is naturally gregarious and able to strike up a conversation with anyone about anything.  She is always circulating, (yes, it is always a "she") making sure that no one is standing in a corner lost and alone.  Know that she will quite possibly take one for the squad, and treat her to lunch as a thank you.  There is a strong chance she will end up talking to the awkward date of a potential client about his bug collection or entertaining the “Capricorn seeking Aries” roommate of your gorgeous new neighbor.  You will owe her one, and Graces always pay up.

A few more ideas for shrinking violets:

-Look around and see if there's someone who looks interesting. Walk up to her, pay a quick compliment ("Great shoes!", "That drink looks delicious!"), followed by a question ("Where did you get them?", "What is it?"). People love to talk about their good choices.

-Too shy for that? Quietly ask the hostess if there's anyone she thinks you should meet. Ask for an intro. A good host will stick around for a minute to help get a conversation going.

-Mind what you drink. You might think that fourth tequila shot will make you the life of the party. It's more likely to make you try to snog your boss or the host's bulldog.

-If there's a line or crowd gathering for food or drink, join it. It's easier to chat with strangers when you're all waiting for the same thing.

-Don't be late. Early arrivals can ask the host for a job (this means a few minutes after the invitation time but not so early that the hostess will open the door with a towel on her head). And it's easier to start conversations with a handful of people than it is to break into  a crowd.

-Leave if you start to feel stressed. Appear reluctant. "I hate to go, but I have to be up at the crack of dawn/my babysitting time is up/I have to stop in at a work event."

-Leave before everyone is gone and the hosts are blearily checking their watches. Nothing says Socially Inept quite like being the very last one to go.

Going from Wallflower to Life of the Party is a "fake it til you make it" process. Each party you go to should make the next a little easier.

Bad stuff happens.  We don't want to talk about or even think about it, but it does. So, what does a Grace do when a friend is in a tough situation?  Well, that's when Grace really kicks in.  Whether it be a financial jam, a health problem, a bereavement, or another type of crisis, when the going gets tough, the Graces get gracing.

Economic reversals are a fact of life.  When a friend is navigating a downturn, stay connected.  Don't invite her to dinner at the expensive new sushi place--she can't afford it and she won't be comfortable if you treat.  Invite her over for popcorn and a chick flick,  co-host a pot luck,  go for a walk or out for coffee.  There are lots of low- or no-cost ways to socialize.  See  Gracious Reciprocation for ideas.

Don't dwell on her straitened circumstances--let her talk about her anxieties and troubles as needed while you listen supportively.  Avoid making sweeping statements that might minimize her problems--even something as simple as "you'll find a new job soon" can appear dismissive.  If you have a helpful suggestion or a lead on an opportunity by all means tell her about it, but don't badger.  Bite your tongue off before mentioning your fabulous promotion or recent bonus.

Share.  If you just made a big pot of chili, drop some off at her house.   Beware of conveying the soup kitchen scenario--just say, "I made a bunch of this and it doesn't keep for more than a few days.  I gave some to my mom and my neighbor, and I thought you might like a bowl."  Because if she really is skint, it will be a huge help for her not to worry about a trip to the grocery store for a few days, but please, please don't betray any hint of that.

In the unspeakable case of a serious illness, similar rules apply.  Be there for your friend, whatever that may mean.  Some people crave company and need to be surrounded by loved ones throughout their ordeals.  Others find solitude more restful.  If your unsure, ask.  I just read an article on Cancer survivors, and all of the subjects reported that what they craved most from their friends and family was to be treated normally--not to dwell on their chemo, their cell counts, and their symptoms.  They wanted to chat about their hairdresser's latest romantic disaster, the book you're currently reading, a neighbor's unfortunate liposuction operation, politics and current events,  The Flyers disappointing playoff fizzle, or the new spring shades of lipstick. 

Don't ignore the disease, but don't obsess either.  Ask how they are feeling.  Let them tell you if they wish in whatever detail they desire.  Listen compassionately, and supportively without probing.  Offer to help out--run errands, handle logistics--pick up kids at soccer practice, walk the dog, drive the visiting sister to the airport, deliver some freezer-friendly dinners.  Let them know that you are there--be available, not intrusive.     Check in frequently, but make it clear that it's ok if they don't get back to you right away--the last thing you want to do is create stress and obligation.

In the event of a bereavement, see above--consider the type of person you are dealing with and adjust accordingly.  Logistical support, meals, and visits are all appropriate gestures.  Attend the wake/viewing/shiva/memorial and funeral service.  Most importantly, keep in touch after the fact.  Often, there is a huge outpouring of support around the funeral, but within a few weeks, others have moved on and the bereaved is steeped in lonely grief.   Stay connected--large parties are probably not in the cards, but a small gathering of a few intimate friends and family can help.  Be mindful of the activities--don't rent Terms of Endearment on movie night if you've invited the grieving widower.

Condolence notes are hard to write, but they are important and can provide tremendous comfort to the bereaved.  There are a few essential ingredients:  convey your sympathy, recall a pleasant memory or trait about the deceased, let the family know they are in your thoughts and/or prayers.    Reiterate your condolence.  Sign off.

Here are a few samples:

Dear Freida,
I was so sorry to hear the sad news about Wendell.  I will always remember his wonderfully dry sense of humor and his tremendous backhand, which put me to shame at many a club tournament.   He was truly a gentleman in every sense of the word and he will be sorely missed.  Please know that our thoughts and prayers are with your family at this sad and difficult time.
With deepest sympathy,
Grant

Dear Mr. Donaldson,
I was so very sad to hear about Mrs. Donaldson.  She was a wonderful teacher and I will always cherish the time I spent in her art class.  Her devotion to her students as well as her prodigious talent left a positive mark on all of us who were fortunate enough to enter her studio. 

I will keep you and your family in my thoughts.

With condolences,
Grace

If the deceased is someone you did not know, but you are acquainted with a surviving family member, here are a few suggestions:

Dear Anna,
I was so sorry to hear the news about your grandmother.  She was obviously a very special person based on the wonderful stories about her you have shared with me.   Please know that I am thinking of you at this sad and difficult time.
Sincerely,
Grant

Dear Andrew,
Please accept my deepest condolences on the passing of your father.  Although I never had the pleasure of meeting him, he must have been a very special person, given your devotion to your family and the type of father you are.  I will keep you and your family in my prayers as you pass through this difficult time.
In Sympathy,
Grace

Heavier topic than is my custom, Graces, but there it is.  I promise to have a snarky, gossipy post next week.

Flexibility, that is.   (And Flyers, too, of course.)  If you are involved, either romantically, platonically, professionally, or genetically with a sports fan, then this time of year can be a challenge.    For the non-sports fan, the level of commitment and desire to view all pre-game discussions, regulation play, overtime, and post-game analysis is incomprehensible.  And most people (sports fans or not) have a social life that requires some advance planning, thus creating a potential competition between your dinner party/charity ball/company picnic/front row seats on the night of an important Flyers game.    Rather than go 15 rounds with the fan, I suggest flexibility.

I have riffed on When Something Comes Up before and my main theme remains one of pragmatism and reality.  I am not a "Boo-hoo, wah, You promised!" kind of girl. If you drag your bf to the Bridesmaid's Ball the night of the 7th game, will either of you have a good time?  Probably not.   However, I offer you three feasible approaches to this conundrum:
1.  Determine whether there will be a tv broadcasting the game at the event.  If so, and if you are able to accept the fact that your date may spend more time staring at the screen than you, go with him.
2.  Take another date.  This doesn't have to be a jealousy-invoking episode where you sidle up to your luscious neighbor and take him while your bf shouts at toothless and concussed men sliding around a rink beating each other with sticks, although it could be.  But that wouldn't be my recommendation--one of the best formals I ever went to was with my hairdresser when my husband had to leave town unexpectedly for a funeral.  (Whether he paid for an assassin to off the elderly great uncle so he could avoid attending the gala is a question I have never felt the need to ask.)   Take a girlfriend, a colleague, cousin or, if you must, your LN.
3.  Don't go.  Give the tickets to someone else, cancel the reservation, donate your contribution back to the charity, and embrace the game (or go to a movie and meet up with your bf afterwards.)

But whatever choice you make, be at peace with it and don't drag it up every time you two disagree on whether to order Chinese or pizza.   "Well, I really want Mu Shu Pork and you owe me because of the time you bagged on me for the Justin Timberlake concert when the Flyers........"  No, Grace, no, no, no! 

If you have the ill-luck to be hosting a dinner party the night of the big game, you have a similar dilemma.  But never fear, Graces, for there are many solutions to this "problem" and you need not go into full panic or rage mode.

1.  Change the format.  Make it a casual, game-friendly menu, and let everyone bring plates into the tv room to watch the Flyers crush the Penguins.   Planned to serve steak?  Slice it thinly, saute it w/ some onions, garlic, hot pepper, salt and Worcestershire, put it on warm rolls with melted provolone and you've got the best Cheesesteak this side of South Philly.  Not to mention the happiest male guests in town.  Chicken?  Marinate it in beer, lime, cumin, soy sauce, and hot pepper, saute or grill, slice it and roll it into tortillas with some salsa for fajitas.  Or, dump the whole cooking thing and order a tray of hoagies or pizza.  If you want to have a more formal element to the gathering, make dessert a sit down event.  By then, the game will be over and you can put out your china, crystal and silver (if you must) and serve at table.  Your guests will either be exhuberantly happy or downright wretched, but hopefully your sweets will carry the day even if their team didn't.

2.  Push back the time.  If you are a night owl, or are not adherent to the hours kept by children and babysitters, serve dinner at 9:30 or 10, by which time the game should be over.  I have a dear friend from India who can't understand the American habit of evening entertaining that starts and the early hour of 7pm.  When she invites us to a dinner party, she calls for arrival at around 9, and we know we won't dine til nearly 11.   We always have a fabulous time, even if we're a bit bleary-eyed the next day.  (Did I mention her pomegranite martinis?)

3.  Postpone the party til after the playoffs.  Some diehard fans are very particular about with whom they will watch a game.  They don't view it as a social occasion--this is serious business. They do not appreciate light conversation during the game (even during commercial breaks and time outs); they do not take kindly to ancillary comments like "Doesn't he realize that his tattoos are icky?"  or  "Isn't he dating that supermodel?" or "I hate orange and black.  What do they think, it's Halloween?  Don't you think pink and green would be cuter, especially this time of year?".   While I strictly oppose violence, comments like these might justify a swat.   My husband is still a bit annoyed at me for the time a few years ago when I invited someone to watch the NFC Eagles Championship Game without first screening him.  The guy had the ill judgement to mention a neighbor's hair style (a severe brunette page-boy if you must know) during the fourth quarter and has been blacklisted ever since.  Another wrinkle:  depending on the type of "home theatre system" you possess, potential guests may not be willing give up their wall-size-hi-def-plasma-screen-smell-the-athletes'-swea
t -blue-ray picture they are accustomed to in their man-room at home, so your party attendance could plummet.

Even if you don't watch a single minute of a game, it's a great thing for Philly when our teams win.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to go generate an excuse for skivving off a long-ago-committed to attend cocktail party this evening, cancel a dinner reservation for afterward, buy some beer, order some hoagies, and make sure our orange and black clothing is washed and dried.  Go Flyers!

It's a jungle out there, Graces. No, I'm not referring to the climate, the crime wave, or even the spring sale racks at Bloomies. Rather, I am talking about the minefield of social greetings that is wreaking havoc on hands and cheeks everywhere. Recent experiences with handshakes and hello kisses in social settings have prompted me to offer some commentary....

Let's start with the handshake. I was at a political luncheon yesterday and the things went from bad to worse. Upon arrival, I walked around the room, meeting as greeting as expected. Several times over the course of the event, I had to check my hand for nicks and cuts, fearing a wound from the rough, cracked paws extended my way. Then, my black opal ring, a relic from a long-ago trip to Australia, nearly broke in half when some he-man gripped me like a vice. Later, I greeted a table mate, and shook his hand, which was so limp that I temporarily mistook for the fish that was being served. Then I chastised myself, thinking the poor bloke had an injury or paralysis, only to see the “dead fish” miraculously resurrect when time came to dig into the poached salmon. So, what can we do to combat this scourge?

If you are attending one of these schmoozefests, you know you'll be shaking a lot of hands. Apply some smoothing salve. No one wants to firmly grasp sandpaper when saying hello, so apply some neutral hand-cream in preparation.  (I love L'Occitane Shea Butter Hand Cream and Dr. Haushcka Hand Cream, but there are literally hundreds of reasonable choices on the market.)   Avoid greasy and/or heavily scented products, especially if a sit- down meal is involved. Your peppermint-watermelon-hyacinth lotion may have a lovely aroma, but it does not enhance the tenderloin au poivre.

And as for the pressure element, think firm not crushing. My rule of thumb (pardon the unintentional and rather appalling pun) is to mimic the grip your favorite manicurist uses when beginning the hand massage portion of your service.

Which brings me to my next diatribe.

Kiss My...

How many cocktail parties have you attended where the single-, double-, and sometimes even triple-cheek kiss is the greeting of choice? I went to one last Saturday. It was lovely. And some of the smooches were rather nice as well. Except for the ones that weren’t. I won’t dwell on the nice kisses—not much to tell there—and let’s face it, if there were it would have been more about what the kissing led to and Graces don’t share details. No, let’s stick with the ones that got a grade of NI for Needs Improvement.

For starters, mind your breath. If you’ve been quaffing gin or bourbon all night, consider the fumes, which in some cases are downright flammable. Fortunately, smoking has gone out of fashion or we could be in danger of combustion. Also think about the garlic, whiffy cheese, raw onion, or pungent fish you may have ingested. Delicious to chew and swallow, no doubt; not so much to inhale. Consider mints or Binaca as a way to freshen things up.

And finally, how about the state of your lips? No one wants a scraped cheek from a smooch. Can you imagine explaining that to your boss on Monday? "Good Morning, Mr. Fernblatt. My cheek? Oh, that? Just a minor kissing injury from Saturday night." I think not. So, try maintaining lubed lips with a moisturising balm from Keihl's or True Blue Spa .

Let's do our part to make hello greetings a pleasant experience as opposed to a hazard to be navigated with caution.

I have a confession to make:   I don't love shopping.  I am a hunter, not a gatherer.  This trait (or fault, depending on your perspective) has caused several of my fellow Graces to refuse shopping excursions with me.  Oh, sure, I can navigate my way around a boutique well enough, and I certainly (and not surprisingly) have strong opinions about attire.  I strictly follow Grace Guidelines when I choose my outfits, but I don't relish the search and seizure process nearly as much as many of my fellow Graces.   Consequently, I often seek the counsel of the style gurus in my Grace Crew for these weighty matters.

So, I asked them.  What is your absolute must have, can't live a day without, do not pass go, do not collect $200 til you have procured this item for the spring season.  Here are their responses......

Back for a visit, Grace M says:

For me, the coming warmer months are all about color, a departure from my cold-weather blacks and browns. And none of these will cause sticker shock.

Handbag:
I adore this bag  especially in yellow or blue, from my beloved Boden. 

Am also in love with this great faux leather tote from Big Buddha. 

Tees:

As usual, J. Crew's selection of colorful tees is among the best for variety, quality and affordability. 

Sandals:

I collect Jack Rogers Sandals but gotta say these far cheaper "gems" from Zappos are seriously tempting.

Headbands:

They invoke Capri in the 1960s.  If that's not Summer, what is?  Amy Schwab Designs has a great selection of patterns and fabrics.

Grace adds:  Calista Cove also has a lovely collection of headbands.

Grace J:  One fabulous accessory:   Latico's clutch wallet with a gorgeous floral print in super soft, lightly textured leather.  Flowers and primary colors are huge this season, so this covers two trends in one!

Grace A:   Isaac Mizrahi's Yellow Trench Coat.  Yellow is everywhere this spring, and if you decide you hate the coat by Memorial Day, you can pitch it without guilt since it was an exceptionally economical acquisition.

Grace MH:  Higher-waisted jeans.  The new  Citizens of Humanity are comfortable, flattering, and completely devoid of a muffin top.  Love 'em. 

Back to Grace:  I concur; I'm over low-slung pants.  Moderately low rise is ok; those that barely clear the pubic bone are incompatible with modern enlightened thought, not to mention Gracedom.

Grace L:  flattering capris--the right length, the right cut, the right fabric; desperately seeking denim. 

Grace says:  Sorry, L, I disagree; I think 'flattering capris' is a contradiction in terms.

Grace P:  Metallic bags and shoes; anything red.

Grace KN:  Patent leather sandals and belts.

Grace N:  A pink floral handbag.

Grace S:  Green peep toes.

Grace R:  White Kitten Heel Sandals.  The perfect way to spice up my favorite sundress!

And finally, my "must have" for spring?  A party, of course!  More on that in a future post.  In the meantime, Graces, enjoy the warm weather, the spring fashions, and  have fun acquiring your "must haves" for the season!

With the election season in full swing and Pennsylvania playing a starring role, I've been receiveing a fair few questions regarding election etiquette.  Here is a sample of things I've been asked on this timely topic:

Dear Social Grace,
Every year at this time, my sister-in-law corners me, wanting to know for whom and what I'm going to vote. Whether I answer or not, she lectures me on the "right" choices. We have very different affiliations and opinions. What's a polite way to tell her that it's none of her business and she has to stop this???

Grace Says:
Tell her as nicely and firmly as possible that you make a point of never discussing politics or voting, as it never ends well and you refuse to impose your ranting, raving self on people you like.   Then change the subject to something that she can't resist discussing:  her son's bronze medal in the state tiddly-winks tournament, her latest assessment on who will win "Dancing With the Stars" or the neighbor's extra-marital extracurriculars. 

Dear Grace,
I have 2 children, ages 6 and 8. I think it is important to educate them at an early age on the importance of civic engagement, and obviously, voting. I have brought them to the polling place with me in the past to show them the process. They are well behaved and quiet. We don't go at peak times, and we whisper when inside the voting booth. Once or twice in the past, we have received snide comments and sneers from people who seemed to disapprove of the kids' presence. Things like, "They don't look like they're of legal voting age" (and this not said in a good-natured way) or "Hope they don't hold things up, I'm in a rush." I generally ignore this, but now my kids are getting to the age where they will be aware of these comments--I am concerned that this might happen this year and they will be upset. How do I handle these anti-kid folks?


Grace Says:
Applause for getting your kids involved in the political process early. I share your tradition; my kids always "help" me  push the buttons on Election Day.

The sad fact of the matter is, no matter how well behaved your children might be, or how considerate you are of others' time and space, there simply are meanies out there. It's tough to be a Grace among Grunts. In such instances, a tolerant smile is the often the best course. In the case of the hurried voter, you could certainly offer him/her your place in line--undeserving though he/she might be, it is a gracious way to diffuse the situation and puts you firmly on the high road.


Dear Social Grace,

Every year, my daughter's school hosts an Election Day Bake Sale. I don't bake, and there is constant pressure to present restaurant quality treats for these kids to sell. It seems ridiculous for me to purchase and donate pastries from a shop at $2.00/each and have the kids resell them for 50 cents, but I don't want to be unsupportive of the fundraising efforts. This is an annual tradition, my daughter is only in first grade, and I have two younger children coming up behind her--this is going to be a problem for me long into the future--how do I handle it?

Grace Says:

With honesty. Let the parents in charge know that you are supportive of their efforts and while baking is akin to torture for you ,you would still like to help.

I suggest any of the following alternatives:

1. Offer to make a cash donation in the amount that a batch of treats would generate.
2. Donate other needed items--napkins, ziploc bags, or drinks should be a welcome and necessary addition.
3. Volunteer to help at the sale--even if you don't bake anything, you can certainly help onsite with setup, sales, and cleanup.

Having done a fair bit of volunteer work myself, I can state with near certainty that your offer of help, even if it does not involve immersing your french manicure in sugar, flour and butter, will be very much appreciated by the organizers.

Most importantly, Graces, make sure you get out and vote!

The following question recently came in from a reader obviously in need of advice.  While its subject matter is one that I normally wouldn't discuss (Graces don't share bedroom antics or highly personal information, ) I was so mindboggled by the dilemma that I couldn't resist.    Besides, I've never met a question I wouldn't try to answer, and Graciously Declining is an important skill to have.  So, here goes....

Dear Graces,
My wife is an avid reader of your blog and she recommended that I put this dilemma before you, because we are stymied.  It requires a bit of background explanation, so please bear with me on the length of my question.   

Here's the situation:  I am a small business owner.  I am very dependent on referrals for my clients, and I have one particular source (I'll call him Bob) that has provided a steady stream of customers and revenue.  Wanting to keep Bob happy, I occasionally take him out for lunch or drinks.  At one of our outings, Bob revealed that he and his wife (I'll call her Jane) are heavily involved in a variety of, for lack of a better term, "Different Strokes" of the X-rated variety. (Incidentally, both Bob and Jane are in their 60s.)  Of course, I don't care what he does in his spare time, and I want to keep our very profitable business relationship thriving, so I listened tolerantly, changed the subject asap, and things marched on just fine. 

Fast forward to last weekend, when I had a reunion of 8 college buddies.  We had a traditional "guy time" planned--steaks on the grill, a few cases of beer,  fishing, pick-up games of touch football and some Bruce Willis movies.  Early Saturday morning, Bob called me.  I cringed, thinking that one of our machines had crashed and I would be spending the next 4 hours repairing it, but that was not the case.  Bob asked, "Isn't this the reunion weekend with your 8 fraternity brothers?"  I answered, "Yes, but that's ok if you need something, I'll take care of it and meet them later."  Bob said, "Well, I would like to invite you all over this afternoon  for a get-together with Jane, myself, and some friends from our 'adult group'."  (His suggestion was more graphic but I can't bring myself to share its exact content in mixed company.  Rest assured, Graces, he was suggesting far more than G&Ts on the patio).

I'm not a speechless guy, but what could I say? I ended up mumbling something about running it by the rest of the guys and that we'd get back to him.  Of course we never did, but he called again a few hours later and left a voice mail repeating the offer.

I am going to have to deal with this soon; I've been dodging his calls for a few days, but business dictates that we have to interact, and my connection with him has been positive and lucrative for me.  Help!

--Staying Anonymous For Obvious Reasons

Wow, I have heard a lot of etiquette dilemmas, but this one is rather unique.   Although I heartily disapprove of public discussions about what goes on in your bedroom (jacuzzi, kitchen floor, backseat) I would never abandon a reader in need of advice.   And in truth, declining an offer of any kind can seem like a bit of a rebuff--but saying "no thanks" to an offer of over-familiarity with the wife is a pretty extreme rejection.  Here are a few suggestions on how to handle it:

--Ignore it completely and pick up your business relationship as if nothing had happened.  The fact that you never called back sends Bob the message that you are not interested.  Ideally, he will do the same and you can resume your profitable affiliation as if the offer had never been extended. 

Unless that doesn't work.

--Address it head on:  "Bob, about your offer last weekend.....I am certainly flattered, but Susan and I don't have an open marriage.  We are mutually exclusive, and that works for us, but thank you anyway."  Then move the topic quickly to your new machines, the Phillies lack of pitching,  or the weather.

--Flatter him (and her):  "Bob, it's great that you and Jane are so compatible and have made an arrangement that works so well for you.  I appreciate the proposal you made last weekend, but I couldn't possibly trade the short term pleasure you offered for the long term difficulty that it would present for me with regard to Susan. You know the old saying 'different strokes for different folks.'"  (Be careful with this one--you don't want him thinking that you actually want to participate if only your wife would let you.....)

This particular scenario is extreme, but the dilemma is fairly common.  Not how to say "no thanks" to an orgy; rather, how to say "no thanks" to something that is offered to you with intended generosity and you have absolutely no interest in  accepting....Your neighbor offers you zucchini from her garden.  Aside from the fact that you hate zucchini, you know that she sprays with pesticide that has resulted in squirrel corpses all over the neighborhood.  A colleague offers you a ride home, but he is a horrendous driver and has at least one crash a month.  A neighbor offers to mind your children, but hers are in the ER frequently.  (Or, a client offers his wife to you and 8 of your buddies for the afternoon).

The response is essentially the same.  Thank them sincerely, then firmly decline, offering a non-negotiable reason if you wish.  "So sweet of you to offer.   Thanks anyway, but_______________" (fill in the blank from applicable selection below):

--I'm all set.  This is all purpose and should do the trick unless the person is particularly insistent.  If so, try the following:
--I'm allergic to zucchini/My sister just gave me a bushel from her garden.
--I'm on a new fitness program and I walk home from work/take the train and walk from the station/I'm in a carpool.
--We're just on our way out, maybe some other time/They're just getting over a nasty virus and I would hate to infect your household.

We hope these help.  Good luck!

It's finally here, Graces.  Rejoice, Rejuvenate, Relish.  As one who wilts a bit in winter, I am out doing Pastoral Dances right about now.  Here are my must-dos for this lovely time of year:

1.  Get out.  Whether you bask in a sliver of sun that splices skyscrapers or wander wooded wonderlands, just get out.  Enjoy the longer days, the sprouting green, (yes, even in a city, there are buds on the trees, daffodils blooming in window boxes, and chirping birds returning to their warm weather habitats.) 

2.  Lighten up.  Visit your hairdresser for some highlights, or the makeup counter for some brighter tones.  I love Bobbi Brown's new creamy lip color--it's sheer, glossy, and moisturizing all at once.

3.  Introduce some color.  Not, not the tanning bed variety--you know how I feel about abusing your skin thus.  Bring some new shades into your closet.  I know, I know, black is easy, slimming, flattering, versatile, and the overwhelmingly dominant shade in my wardrobe--guilty as charged--but trust me, a bit of pink will do wonders for your look.

4.  Equip yourself with stylish rain gear--you know the old saying about April Showers.  Target has great, affordable trench coats, funky umbrellas and an amazing selection of attractive rubber boots--from pink polka dots (you know how I feel about pink!) to shiny black wedgies.  They will keep you dry and fashionable in one fell swoop.

5.  Do some spring cleaning, whatever that means to you:  a wardrobe purge; a house scrub; a ritual emptying of drawers and shelves or a cleansing facial/body buff/pedicure.

6.  Host a cookout on the first warm weekend.  Keep it simple with burgers and dogs, or go crazy with sockeye salmon and grilled mango chutney.

7.  Dine al fresco--whether it's a muffin and latte at your fave sidewalk cafe or a full course dinner at a bistro with a patio; when the weather cooperates, there's nothing like it!

8.  Spruce up your scents.  Having slathered up with  Maiden Beauty Pretty Body Cream (availible on calistacove.com), I am basking in its lovely spring-like aroma.    Other delightfully soft suggestions for the season:  Estee Lauder's Pleasures and Bvlgari's The Blanc (White Tea).

9.  Make your summer plans.  If a vacation is in the cards, now is the time to arrange it.  Be as adventurous or mundane as you desire, but get moving on it!

10.  Turn over a new leaf.  In the spirit of the rebirth that nature is demonstrating all around you, make a "spring resolution".  Try Yoga.  Plan to take frequent evening walks.  Learn Japanese.  Make a standing date with a person you really like but never manage to see.  Limit your junk food intake.

But most of all, enjoy!

Dear Social Graces,
I am mad, mad, mad. Here's why: My daughter, who is many wonderful things, but not a linguist, has a tutor for Spanish class. The tutor is a teaching assistant at school, a lovely young woman training to be a full time teacher. I pay Senorita a fair wage to do this extra work and the arrangement is improving my daughter's skills mucho. No harm to anyone, and helping the kid. Until the supervising teacher decided that Senorita was breaking a rule by earning money privately, in her classroom, after hours, without a supervising teacher on site. We managed to find an alternate plan which is not quite optimal but works passably. How do I deal with the tattletale who willfully sabotaged an arrangement that helped a struggling student?

Mad Mamacita

Dear MM,
I, too, abhor gratuitously officious behavior, especially when it sacrifices a benefit to a kid. And I commend you for getting your daughter what she needs under the circs. You won't like my suggestion, but I swear it is the way to go. Thank "Rulie Julie" for her hospitality and kindness in allowing your daughter the use of her classroom for her previous tutoring sessions. Play dumb about the cause and source of the termination. Consider a card or note, possibly even a small token giftie.

Here's the script: "Ms. Julie, I just want to thank you for your generous hospitality in allowing Ashley and Senorita to use your classroom for tutoring. It has really helped Ashley with her Spanish. I know they had to move for some safety code or something, but I am no less grateful to you for your assistance up to this point. I would have said all this in June when term ended, but it still true even though they are no longer using your space."

Yes, it is a wrench, and you might choke a bit on the words--but we promise Rulie Julie won't give you any more trouble. She might even feel a tad guilty. Should you ever need a favor from her down the road, you're well-positioned--and don't forget, she interacts with your daughter every day--best to keep that relationship positive and unclouded by your (perfectly justified) anger. Trust me, the Moral High Ground has a much better view (even if you're not quite sincere in your ascent).

And bear in mind that Rulie Julie may have been correct in following the letter, if not the spirit, of the law--there are rules that govern intern teachers working with students, codes that determine after-hours use of the building, liability concerns, etc. But of course, we still agree with you--we're sure RJ could have found a way to help, rather than hurt the situation. That's what a Grace would have done.


Dear Graces,

How do you suggest reacting as a passerby when witnessing a toddler throwing a 7- alarm tantrum on the sidewalk?

Please advise.

Dear Innocent Bystander,

We've all been there in one form or another. About the only thing I absolutely bar is chastising the suffering caregiver (judgmental stares, comments and barbs are unhelpful at best and mean spirited at worst.) Any of the following are perfectly acceptable reactions:

--Ignore the spectacle completely. Avert your eyes. Give the scene a wide berth and keep moving.

--Make a supportive/humorous gesture or comment. A knowing smile, nod, wave or shrug does the trick. Or say something like: "Been there, done that"; "Well, looking on the bright side, you know he has healthy lungs!"; "Naptime? Me, too!" or "My sentiments exactly!".

--Help. Retrieve the garments the tot is rending. Offer to hold Mom's bag while she wrestles kid into the stroller, or stay with the infant while she chases the toddler into the street. If you happen to have a full flask on you, give her a swig.

Dear Social Graces,
I carpool with a neighbor every day--I drive to middle school, she picks up. It works out fine, except that the neighbor's 8th grader brings a large iced coffee into my car every morning--and she spilled it yesterday. I was against this practice from the start for a variety of reasons--my upholstery, the example she is setting for my daughter, and of course, her health, and I really wish I had done something about it earlier. My question is twofold: 1) How do I make sure she doesn't bring any more drinks into my car, and 2) Do I have any shot of having her mom pay for the detailing and cleaning bill I am going to incur? (My car really reeks!)

Dear Reader,

I am so sorry about your reeking backseat. Your course of action is as follows:

Tell Java Jane that you are not allowing beverages in your car. Don't elaborate, don't point fingers, don't blame the new rule on her by reminding her of the spill and don't chastise her. Keep short and sweet. If she shows up with her Mocha Latte again, politely say, "JJ, You'll have to dump/finish/put back in your fridge the drink before we can leave. No drinks in my chariat." Or, you can call her mom and say, "Judy, I don't want to make Jane feel uncomfortable, but there was an accident with her coffee this morning, and the entire cup dumped over the back seat of my car. In order to prevent future spills, I am instituting a 'no drinks' policy. It would be a great help if you could remind her tomorrow morning before she leaves the house." If Judy is a Grace, she will, at this point, offer to pay your cleanup costs. Good luck!