Here at OC, we are struck by how often we end up in everyday conundrums. The ones that land you in the thick of semi (or full-blown) awkwardness, or maybe, the doghouse.
So, we turned to Simon Collins, the dean of the School of Fashion at Parsons, who after six years in his plum perch, just announced plans to step down at the end of this year. Translation: More time to advise on how to exit a #totalfail dinner party—gracefully.
Q: I'm dating someone new. How soon is too soon to begin moving a few innocent toiletries over to my bae's pad?
First thing—there are no "innocent toiletries." Everything is part of the message, and when the first item appears, the story has begun. "Look at me," you can hear the cotton buds saying, "all my friends are coming to join me soon." [Editor's note: LOL] Next thing you know, the bathroom cabinet has been occupied, and you’re living out of a wash bag in the hallway. Now I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but let’s be honest about what’s happening here: assessment, infiltration, and eventual domination.
If you’re lucky enough to find someone that you think might fit the bill for the long walk, then of course you’re going to be shacking up together and toiletries will be exchanged—at some point. But, until you’re both ready and in full communication and agreement, then the casual appearance of cotton wool could prove fatal.
Much better to take an early morning Uber Stride of Pride back to your own toiletries and leave your partner alone in bed wishing you were still there keeping him or her warm. Later that day, watch him or her shoot over to Kiehl’s or Opening Ceremony to ensure that next time, you can enjoy proper coffee and WSJ's Off-Duty, in conjugal bliss.
Q: You seem like a man who enjoys hosting a fine dinner party or two. What's the correct etiquette for a polite early exit, when the food, or the company, is a dud?
It is true that I have broken bread with some absolute rogues and some utter dullards.
Rule #1: Never be the most interesting person at dinner. As you stand around amusing the bouche before being seated, be sure to assess likely tablemates well in advance. It goes without saying that you should avoid the R-words—Republicans and religious zealots. But, also look out for the conversationally needy, for they will ruin your evening with their incessant questions. Life is, after all, too short for boring conversation or bad wine.
Once seated, if you catch a whiff of dodgy politics or a cheap perfume, immediately scope your exits. “Just need to make a quick call,” is an easy exit line if no food has appeared (though unsatisfactory if you want 1.) to be invited back or 2.) to make a grand statement.)
So, let’s say you're halfway through the soup and the person next to you says, "You know, I just subscribed to Sarah Palin's new cable channel, and she really does have some good ideas."
Tricky, because you’re already committed to the first course so a pre-food-exit is off, and you might want to save the flouncing-out for later. In this situation I recommend introducing yourself as though the person hadn’t spoken. Then if they continue to spout dri
So, we turned to Simon Collins, the dean of the School of Fashion at Parsons, who after six years in his plum perch, just announced plans to step down at the end of this year. Translation: More time to advise on how to exit a #totalfail dinner party—gracefully.
Q: I'm dating someone new. How soon is too soon to begin moving a few innocent toiletries over to my bae's pad?
First thing—there are no "innocent toiletries." Everything is part of the message, and when the first item appears, the story has begun. "Look at me," you can hear the cotton buds saying, "all my friends are coming to join me soon." [Editor's note: LOL] Next thing you know, the bathroom cabinet has been occupied, and you’re living out of a wash bag in the hallway. Now I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but let’s be honest about what’s happening here: assessment, infiltration, and eventual domination.
If you’re lucky enough to find someone that you think might fit the bill for the long walk, then of course you’re going to be shacking up together and toiletries will be exchanged—at some point. But, until you’re both ready and in full communication and agreement, then the casual appearance of cotton wool could prove fatal.
Much better to take an early morning Uber Stride of Pride back to your own toiletries and leave your partner alone in bed wishing you were still there keeping him or her warm. Later that day, watch him or her shoot over to Kiehl’s or Opening Ceremony to ensure that next time, you can enjoy proper coffee and WSJ's Off-Duty, in conjugal bliss.
Q: You seem like a man who enjoys hosting a fine dinner party or two. What's the correct etiquette for a polite early exit, when the food, or the company, is a dud?
It is true that I have broken bread with some absolute rogues and some utter dullards.
Rule #1: Never be the most interesting person at dinner. As you stand around amusing the bouche before being seated, be sure to assess likely tablemates well in advance. It goes without saying that you should avoid the R-words—Republicans and religious zealots. But, also look out for the conversationally needy, for they will ruin your evening with their incessant questions. Life is, after all, too short for boring conversation or bad wine.
Once seated, if you catch a whiff of dodgy politics or a cheap perfume, immediately scope your exits. “Just need to make a quick call,” is an easy exit line if no food has appeared (though unsatisfactory if you want 1.) to be invited back or 2.) to make a grand statement.)
So, let’s say you're halfway through the soup and the person next to you says, "You know, I just subscribed to Sarah Palin's new cable channel, and she really does have some good ideas."
Tricky, because you’re already committed to the first course so a pre-food-exit is off, and you might want to save the flouncing-out for later. In this situation I recommend introducing yourself as though the person hadn’t spoken. Then if they continue to spout dri