Dear Miss Manners: I am a gentleman who is required to wear a necktie at my job. I love my job, but hate wearing a tie.

Most of my morning commute is spent riding the subway in the metropolis where I live. I leave my house with my tie around my neck and under my collar, but not tied. I know the correct point on the subway to begin tying it, so it is in place when I reach my stop.

My wife opines that this constitutes going out in public โ€œnot fully dressed.โ€ I believe that because I am wearing a shirt, pants, and shoes that are appropriate for my job, and that each is correctly buttoned, fastened and/or closed before I leave the house, then I meet the standard of being fully dressed. Perhaps not fully accessorized, but certainly fully dressed.

Is this a matter of manners, or of fashion? As long as I donโ€™t inconvenience (e.g. elbow) anyone else in the process, is it rude to wait until I am riding the subway to knot my tie?

Gentle Reader: When was the last time your wife rode the subway? You might take her for an outing, just to show her the modern definition of not being fully dressed.

If that doesnโ€™t persuade her to approve your current practice, Miss Manners advises you to leave the house while she is otherwise occupied.

Dear Miss Manners: I received an invitation to an event that I am unable to attend. I sent my RSVP as requested, and then I received, by return mail, not only an acknowledgement of my response but a clearly cutting comment on my inability to attend.

I have never before received a response to an RSVP, except verbally (along the lines of โ€œI was sorry to see you canโ€™t join usโ€). Iโ€™m wondering if, all these years, I should have been sending something formal in response to the response, though presumably not something quite as cutting as I received.

Gentle Reader: What did your host respond? โ€œGood, we didnโ€™t really want to see you anywayโ€?

The rules have not changed to allow insulting โ€” or even interrogating, which is more common โ€” those who decline invitations. โ€œWeโ€™ll miss youโ€ is allowed but not required.

Dear Miss Manners: Recent wedding-planning discussions have gotten my friends and me thinking about the new rules for wedding gifts.

Most couples of my generation (that fuzzy one between Gen Y and the millennials) have been living together for years, or have been on their own long enough that a wedding registry is seemingly pointless โ€” just a way to fill oneโ€™s already-cramped apartment with more junk.

However, since there is something deeply ingrained within us, asking for cash often comes off as either greedy or crass. What are some ways to avoid the confusion, hurt feelings and duplicate blenders?

Gentle Reader: The way to solve both these problems is to realize that giving and choosing wedding presents โ€” or, as you think of them, junk โ€” is up to the prospective donors, not the recipients.

Miss Manners considers the fact that couples often get married fully outfitted to be a good reason to drop the custom, rather than to devise other ways to extract money from guests.

Dear Miss Manners: What is the proper response when an acquaintance or stranger says โ€œSheโ€™s beautifulโ€ about your child?

Even if I were my teenaged daughterโ€™s biological mother (Iโ€™m not), I think โ€œthank youโ€ is a little strange because her beauty isnโ€™t my accomplishment. Should the answer be different depending on whether my daughter is present?

Gentle Reader: Compliments are an expression of admiration, and sometimes also of gratitude, flattery โ€” or merely an attempt to move things along. Miss Manners expects that anyone who has toasted the host at a boring dinner party or been on a first date is aware of this.

Because compliments are not recognition for work well done, you need not worry about not having earned one. The proper response is โ€œthank you,โ€ meaning for having thought and/or said something charming. If the compliment is given to you about your teenage daughter in her presence, your daughter will have to be gracious about not being addressed directly, an approach more suited to a small child.

Dear Miss Manners: My husband and I both wear wedding bands with carved designs. My ring has no diamonds or jewels of any kind. I donโ€™t have an engagement ring. I respect other womenโ€™s preferences, but I did not want my husband to spend unnecessary money on jewels. Our bands were not expensive and they are comfortable to wear.

Some people seem to think that a lack of jewels is an indicator that the husband is not truly devoted. One person even implied that an inexpensive ring means that there was a โ€œshotgun wedding,โ€ for an unexpected pregnancy.

We have been married for seven years, are financially comfortable, and we have no children by choice. How should I respond to people who ask why he didnโ€™t buy me a diamond?

Gentle Reader: As if someone had questioned the value of one of your most treasured possessions.

Miss Manners is not advising a counterattack of the โ€œI do not waste money on baublesโ€ variety. The sentiment-vs.-expense point can be made more subtly. Your face should convey surprise, hurt and vulnerability, as you explain that your husband knows you so well that he guessed that this ring would mean more to you than any rocks would have.

Dear Miss Manners: Many months ago, I had a medical condition from which I am mostly recovered. It still manifests itself in mild but visible signs that do not bother me; I usually donโ€™t even notice the problem. Eventually, this will all go away, so I am not at all concerned by it.

Sometimes, the person that I am speaking with will notice, and in the middle of the conversation will ask, โ€œWhatโ€™s the matter with your ?โ€ I know this question arises because the person I am speaking to is genuinely concerned, and I am happy that people care.

But the answer is complicated, and I do my best to be succinct. โ€œI had such-and-such illness, which has left me with this visible problem, but Iโ€™m OK and itโ€™s not a big deal.โ€

This, unfortunately, generates a gasp, because the name of the illness sounds much worse than it actually is. The gasp is followed by, โ€œOh, Iโ€™m so sorry,โ€ along with more questions, or sometimes even a story that starts with โ€œI once had …โ€ If I donโ€™t name the illness, I get pressed further for more details.

I would much prefer to just get back to the conversation and not discuss medical conditions or illnesses. How can I respond in a way that ends the inquiry without making the person feel awful for having asked?

Gentle Reader: With less detail. โ€œIt was a side effect of a condition I had, but fortunately itโ€™s resolved and going away.โ€

Miss Manners appreciates your assumption that the inquirerโ€™s intentions are good, but that assumption will be tested if there are follow-up questions. Each subsequent answer should be identical to the first. The repetition is a pointed, but polite, way to respond to mounting rudeness.

Dear Miss Manners: My husband and I both have successful careers, yet his parents continue to treat us like the poor relations.

We invited them over for a casual meal of hamburgers and salad on the porch, and when they walked in the door, his mother handed my husband $10 and told him it was to offset the cost of the meal.

My husband and I looked at each other, flabbergasted. Neither of us knew how to respond. I was horrified, but I think he thanked her and told her she was being silly.

Miss Manners, I was extremely insulted. Is there a proper response to this behavior next time?

Gentle Reader: โ€œThank you. I will be sure to tip the chef.โ€

Dear Miss Manners: Is it rude, bad manners to have your feet (whether bare or shod) on furniture in public? Examples: on chairs in medical waiting rooms, on armrests in planes, etc.?

Gentle Reader: Yes. Rude, bad manners, and just plain ewwwww.

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 youโ€™ll save by writing those thank you, condolence and congratulations letters you owe.