The Lady Guide to Modern Manners: 14 March
Dear Thomas,
What is the best response to people who show an avid curiosity about one’s personal life? For example, trying to find out the ages of our children – the answer ‘grownup’ does not satisfy them – and asking if our holiday apartment is our own. I find these interrogations annoying and intrusive. I was always told that asking new people more than three questions is very rude. I often feel like saying, after the third enquiry: ‘It’s very kind of you to take such a great interest in us.’ Would this be as rude as I find them?
Molly Orchard, Brighton
Dear Molly,
They’re trying to find out your age and wealth. But I’m struck by guilt. I hope your tormentors haven’t been reading this column to excess because I’ve often campaigned for more questions in social situations.
How often, after a dinner party, do you discover that you’ve found out nothing about the other guests, barely even their names? People parade items from their store of amusing stories, or vent about a bouquet that was hurled into the wrong garden by the delivery company, but rarely do they take any sustained interest in each other.
Possibly it is a fear of prying that inhibits, which is understandable. Prying isn’t very nice. Some people are so consumed by curiosity they’ll even knock on your door to find out who your visitors are, claiming to be concerned that strangers are entering your house. They don’t care one bit of course; they require only to possess information. They want to possess you in other ways by defining you as posh or common, rich or poor, old or young.
Molly, I don’t think the rebuff you suggest is rude at all. I would attempt a more crushing effect: ‘I think the holiday apartment is part of our portfolio but I’d have to check with our people.’ Then you could add, ‘The late Princess Grace of Monaco – I’ve never got over her death, you know. She was such a friend.’ Or substitute any worldclass celebrity, but they have to have passed on some time ago, or you might get found out.
But don’t forget that a certain level of curiosity about our fellow human beings is natural and healthy. It would be awful if we took no interest in each other. As WH Auden said, ‘What are most novels if not gossip?’
So ask questions, but be subtle. Never: ‘Are you married?’… ‘Have you got children?’… ‘Do you own or rent?’… ‘What do you do?’… As I’ve said before, questions needing only a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer – ‘Do you have a long journey to work?’ – are best. Information is not demanded and the responder, not feeling trapped, is more likely to be forthcoming.
Please send your questions to Thomas.blaikie@lady.co.uk or write to him at The Lady, 39-40 Bedford Street, London WC2E 9ER
She left her present as a kind of protest hanging on the front-door handle.
As often in life, it turned out to be more complicated than expected. Flowers, it emerged, do not count as a present, especially if sent to the house, rather than brought to the party. My mother was thrilled with the flowers. Also the book, the jar of jam, the pot of honey, the bottle of wine, the milk jug and sugar bowl, and the box of chocs.
The ‘No presents’ rule worked well. It meant no obligation or gifts for the sake of it, no silly extravagance, but simple offerings if you were moved or able to offer them.
What is the best response to people who show an avid curiosity about one’s personal life? For example, trying to find out the ages of our children – the answer ‘grownup’ does not satisfy them – and asking if our holiday apartment is our own. I find these interrogations annoying and intrusive. I was always told that asking new people more than three questions is very rude. I often feel like saying, after the third enquiry: ‘It’s very kind of you to take such a great interest in us.’ Would this be as rude as I find them?
Molly Orchard, Brighton
Dear Molly,
They’re trying to find out your age and wealth. But I’m struck by guilt. I hope your tormentors haven’t been reading this column to excess because I’ve often campaigned for more questions in social situations.
How often, after a dinner party, do you discover that you’ve found out nothing about the other guests, barely even their names? People parade items from their store of amusing stories, or vent about a bouquet that was hurled into the wrong garden by the delivery company, but rarely do they take any sustained interest in each other.
Possibly it is a fear of prying that inhibits, which is understandable. Prying isn’t very nice. Some people are so consumed by curiosity they’ll even knock on your door to find out who your visitors are, claiming to be concerned that strangers are entering your house. They don’t care one bit of course; they require only to possess information. They want to possess you in other ways by defining you as posh or common, rich or poor, old or young.
Molly, I don’t think the rebuff you suggest is rude at all. I would attempt a more crushing effect: ‘I think the holiday apartment is part of our portfolio but I’d have to check with our people.’ Then you could add, ‘The late Princess Grace of Monaco – I’ve never got over her death, you know. She was such a friend.’ Or substitute any worldclass celebrity, but they have to have passed on some time ago, or you might get found out.
But don’t forget that a certain level of curiosity about our fellow human beings is natural and healthy. It would be awful if we took no interest in each other. As WH Auden said, ‘What are most novels if not gossip?’
So ask questions, but be subtle. Never: ‘Are you married?’… ‘Have you got children?’… ‘Do you own or rent?’… ‘What do you do?’… As I’ve said before, questions needing only a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer – ‘Do you have a long journey to work?’ – are best. Information is not demanded and the responder, not feeling trapped, is more likely to be forthcoming.
Please send your questions to Thomas.blaikie@lady.co.uk or write to him at The Lady, 39-40 Bedford Street, London WC2E 9ER
WHAT TO DO ABOUT… ‘NO GIFTS’ INVITATIONS
So, you have received an invitation to a birthday party that says ‘No presents’, and you want to give one. Recently, my mother turned 90 and was anxious that people invited to her party might feel obliged to produce a present. So we put ‘No presents’ on the invitations, but some guests were indignant. ‘Why can’t we give her presents?’ one lady said. ‘What’s all this about no presents? What nonsense. I spent ages looking for one.’She left her present as a kind of protest hanging on the front-door handle.
As often in life, it turned out to be more complicated than expected. Flowers, it emerged, do not count as a present, especially if sent to the house, rather than brought to the party. My mother was thrilled with the flowers. Also the book, the jar of jam, the pot of honey, the bottle of wine, the milk jug and sugar bowl, and the box of chocs.
The ‘No presents’ rule worked well. It meant no obligation or gifts for the sake of it, no silly extravagance, but simple offerings if you were moved or able to offer them.