Plate Expectations

I thought about this recently after I finally chucked my Owls of Shame, the five foot avian lamps I kept in storage for years, hoping one day to make them work in my living room. I’m just not good enough to be a maximalist in my own home—I’m too cautious. I don’t have what it takes to commit.

But the occasional table setting? Bring it on! Nothing you do can be too much. You get enough mismatched bud vases and Italian floral plates, little cocktail glasses that remind you of Nick and Nora Charles, Nana’s silver—and all of a sudden the tiny, cheap, turkey candle-holders marching across the runner are fine.

The fact that I spilled edible gold dust over everything, instead of just sprinkling it delicately over my pomegranate centerpiece, only speaks to my enthusiasm and . . . OK, shut up, you’ll never see a picture of this because I jumped the shark. But next July 4th, I hope to actually jump the shark with plates featuring waves, Curacao blue drinks, napkins folded like surfboards, and my most recent centerpiece purchase.

Festive table settings have been around since the 1700s, originating as yet another way for the affluent to display their wealth to guests. The  term “tablescaping” didn’t come into use until the 1960s. It was the British designer David Hicks who coined the term, defining tablescapes as “objects on stands connected in some way by texture, color, or interest. Tablescapes are not haphazard. It is the discipline of selection.”

While nobody knows exactly how much money is spent on tablescaping within the overall $125 billion home décor market, there is widespread agreement that it is on the rise. The pandemic certainly played a part: we were stuck at home, focusing on Instagram accounts that allowed us to fantasize about the great parties that might be in our future.

And there are, of course, celebrity tablescapers: Sandra Lee, Marcy Blum, David Stark . . . the list goes on. And you can go down a rabbit hole fantasizing about your theme party with Mrs. Alice’s woodland gnomes and—my god, I can have my owls.

These days, the poshest parties have their own designated tablescaper ($50-$150 and up per place setting). There are tablescaping competitions where winning contestants must bring both technical perfection and visual and story-telling A game. (A fan favorite at this year’s LA County Fair, “Dinner With Captain Nemo”, featured a table held up by a giant squid).

So there is a chance to indulge your kitschy side. But for true aficionados, tablescaping is much more. It’s a form of grace. Jonathan Marder, who recently gifted himself a set of Georgian vermeil forks, is the publicist of choice for numerous New York society events. He’s seen tablescapes bring both joy and heartache. (He recalls with a shudder a gala for the Friends of Versailles where party preparations included the hostess “screaming at six maids, each one with a glue gun making a pyramid of kumquats.”)  But all the fuss, he says, is “part of the social contract.

“If you attend a party, did you pick out an outfit or get your hair done? Did you read the book of the guest of honor? A good guest does those things. And if you’re a hostess, do you introduce your guests to a couple of interesting people? Do you spend time and effort not just on the food, but on making a beautiful table?” When host and guest are willing to dance this intricate dance, Marder adds, “the party works.”

There are times, too, when tablescaping can become a blood sport. A DC friend recalls attending socialite Adrienne Arsht’s 75th birthday, “which was this star-studded, highly produced event.” Arsht is known for her signature costume jewelry and giant heels, and the table’s centerpieces were fancy shoes overflowing with gorgeous high-end costume jewelry. “At the end of the night she announced, ‘Ladies, please take the jewelry home,’ and literal physical catfights broke out as we all threw ourselves at the centerpieces. It was quite a brawl.”

The guest showed me the mock-sapphire bracelet she nabbed. “But this aggressive TV personality woman was next to me and she grabbed the matching necklace,” she said. “And then we sat there, both of us not giving the other our take.”

I like to think Rebecca Gardner would have approved. The southern designer of Houses & Parties fame would say the goal of even the most lavish party, is “a little bit of irreverence or a twist” that “will put your guests at ease. . . It encourages people to loosen up if not everything is so perfect.”  What better way to loosen up than a bedazzled scrum?

Recently, I was at the brunch of my friend Jacqui Getz, a former school principal and now, in “retirement,” the founder of The Details of Style, a clothing curation consultancy for older women. “I look for symmetry, balance, juxtaposition of patterns and colors—something unexpected and not so fussy that when food is placed, wine is spilled, napkins crumpled, and crumbs gathered, the table has withstood a long and happy meal.”

This brunch was New York City themed and featured spiky flowers (because we are spiky), tourist destination plates, fake-pearl napkin holders, and twinkling lights. Name settings were a diner coffee cup card, and in each card she wrote what she loved about each guest.

Social contract, indeed.