Dear Miss Manners: What would perfect manners do for the world?
Gentle Reader: Besides put Miss Manners out of business? The very idea sets her dreaming of happy times, rocking on the porch as she contemplates a peaceful world.
However, this might also create problems for other trades, notably the munitions and entertainment industries.
Still, wouldn’t it be worth it? No shoving or shouting in lines, on subways or in the streets. No demands to contribute to other people’s honeymoon or children’s college funds, but prompt thanks for kindness and generosity. People would look one another in the eye instead of bending over their telephones. There would be substantive conversation because differences would be debated respectfully.
Perfect harmony would reign — no wars, no murders, no divorces.
Oops, wait. Miss Manners was carried away. Human beings would still be human. Manners restrain impulses that annoy others; they seldom govern the great passions. It would take perfect morals, not just manners, to nullify the greater ills of the world. Over to you, Miss Morals.
Still, wouldn’t it be pleasant to get through the day without fear of anyone’s offering to tell you what’s wrong with you for your own good?
Dear Miss Manners: Is my dress, as mother of the bride, to be a similar style to the bride’s?
Gentle Reader: Have you discussed this with your daughter?
Miss Manners has heard that gentlemen contemplating marriage should check out a prospect’s mother, on the idea that she is what a young lady will grow into resembling.
Maybe yes, maybe no, but is the wedding the occasion to test this?
If only people would stop thinking of weddings as costume dramas. The mother of the bride should dress in a becoming, dignified way, according to the degree of formality of the wedding. But she does not have to match the bridegroom’s mother, much less the bride.
Dear Miss Manners: There are four of us ladies who have decided to play bridge together. We are meeting tomorrow at one of the ladies’ home for our first get-together. She will provide refreshments and would like to rotate homes/refreshments. We agree on this.
Two of us really don’t know how to play, but the others are willing to teach us. Since they are being so kind, should I bring something over as a thank-you for doing this? If so, suggestions would be appreciated.
Gentle Reader: Fresh cards, when the ones being played begin to get sticky. Score pads when they run out. Trump markers. Apologies when you trump your partner’s ace.
Actually, Miss Manners is not requiring you to stick to the bridge necessities. It may well be that the veteran players are well supplied, and you are in a position, as she is not, to notice this, and to guess at alternatives.
She is only trying to steer you away from bringing refreshments, which will make the others feel that they have to do so as well, and thus ruin the workable system of rotation that has been planned.
Dear Miss Manners: Please help me to learn the proper way to eat a cupcake, as I will be attending a few parties where they will be served.
Gentle Reader: Remove any wrapper. Eat — placing the cupcake at an angle that minimizes the buildup of chocolate frosting on your nose. Apply napkin.
Dear Miss Manners: My siblings and I are struggling with entertaining members of the extended family — our children’s in-laws, and, from time to time, our siblings’ spouses, who are used to a “camping style” lifestyle.
Must we adhere to their level of such informality at our houses when entertaining them?
In an effort to accommodate them, we completely scale back on the crystal and sterling and opt for stainless and regular glass, everyday china and only glasses we need, but like to draw the line at ketchup bottles, plastic bowls, etc., at the dinner table.
Our children say that our more formal (we call it proper!) way of dining makes their in-laws and spouses uncomfortable, even at holiday time. The in-laws say, and I quote, “I’m not even going to try and compete with you!” when we go to their homes. This is not a competition — it’s just how we were raised! Cloth napkins, salad fork, dinner fork, nice table setting, serving pieces for food, etc.
So is “dumbing down” necessary, or is there a way to make it known to our children that their in-laws should not be uncomfortable with our lifestyle, just as we are not uncomfortable with theirs in our respective homes?
Gentle Reader: The importance that many people attach to “being comfortable” is matched only by their high-minded horror at hypocrisy. But Miss Manners fears that pointing out the hypocrisy of using etiquette as a cover for making you do what they want all the time will get you nowhere. Better to explain that you are more comfortable with silver and cloth napkins in your own home, and turn a deaf ear to any muttered accusations of being “old-fashioned.”
She is curious why you would normally set out glasses you don’t need. Are some members of the family particularly clumsy?
Dear Miss Manners: My fiance has a pet peeve over lip smacking when someone eats, and points it out to me just about every time I eat around him. He is the first person to have ever mentioned this to me, and is also the first to mention that it bothers him.
While I try to tone it down, it is more of a subconscious habit and is not something I am aware of (or even hear) that I am doing until he says something. It has gotten to the point where I don’t want to eat around him! I am also starting to find that his mentioning it is nearly as rude as my doing it. What are your thoughts?
Gentle Reader: That, as he is rapidly getting to the point where he doesn’t want to eat around you, you occupy separate tables at your wedding reception.
Dear Miss Manners: For many years now, my spouse has “played around.” I do not believe he has had any feelings toward the objects of his lust; it is more the thrill of the hunt. I have kept quiet for the duration of his disrespect of our relationship, but now my anger is at the boiling point.
Disregarding my obvious emotional handicaps in having not addressed this earlier, do I just look at him over the dinner table and unleash my rage? Or has the statute of limitations expired on that?
Gentle Reader: Has it expired on your rage? While tirelessly polite even in the most trying of circumstances, Miss Manners would not presume to deprive you of expressing your understandable and generously built-up anger.
The more important question here is what you plan to do after the explosion. If you intend to stay with your husband and think that things may change by this outburst — or at least make you feel better about the situation — then let loose.
However, if you are planning on leaving him, it might be more effective to write a well-worded note — preferably from your lawyer — and save your passion for a worthier gentleman.
Dear Miss Manners: I don’t know how to ask guests politely not to clink glasses during a toast, when I’ve set good crystal (really, really good crystal).
My husband gets embarrassed if I tell anyone how to do anything; he says it can sound like I’m chastising him or others, and I don’t want to sound that way. However, we are not in any financial position to prioritize replacing broken crystal over, say, impending retirement savings, and these are my family glasses that I’d love my grown son to have one day.
What do I say, short of embroidering a sign or having tacky coasters made that say:
“Raise a glass but please don’t clink
“The crystal is old, might develop a chink.”
Gentle Reader: Congratulations to your crystal for making it this far. Reasonable breakage is a natural consequence of hospitality.
But while Miss Manners loves an antiquated custom, clinking glasses is a particularly barbaric one. It is rooted in the idea that one should beware a host’s inclination to administer poison. If they are willing to exchange the contents of their glasses, then they must be trustworthy.
Which raises the question: Why are you drinking with someone who is trying to poison you? But far be it for Miss Manners to admonish a show of good behavior over true intent. However, she digresses.
She sees your only polite option, other than avoiding celebrations and toasting all together, is saying, when initiating a toast, “Let’s raise a glass,” indicating strongly that they should not be clinked. And if you are not the initiator, a hearty “Hear! Hear!” with your glass raised high, rather than clinked — and deliberately bad aim toward anyone else who tries — should set an example.
Dear Miss Manners: When is it appropriate to wear yoga pants?
Gentle Reader: Well, not at Pilates. Unless you are looking to start a (very calm and core-centered) war.
Miss Manners is written by Judith Martin, her son, Nicholas Ivor Martin, and her daughter, Jacobina Martin. You are invited to email your etiquette questions from www.missmanners.com, if you promise to use the black or blue-black ink you’ll save by writing those thank you, condolence and congratulations letters you owe.