The Lady Guide to Modern Manners: 4 April
Dear Thomas,
I never know what to do when new neighbours move in. Should I approach them first or wait for them to make themselves known to me? A friend of mine recently had a celebrity coming to live next door, which made it even more complicated. Can you advise?
Susan Curry, Macclesfield
Dear Susan,
Before addressing your particular problem, may I draw attention to a recent survey conducted by The Big Lunch, which finds that many people love a chat with a neighbour, however trivial the subject. I mention this for the bene fit of any of us who incline to avoid our neighbours at all costs for fear of boredom or of getting stuck with them, or both.
Well, a clinical psychologist, Tanya Byron, has pronounced that small talk is not tedious and timewasting. ‘These moments are humanising and are an important acknowledgement of the individual. In taking the trouble to talk to your neighbour you may also be helping to reduce their sense of loneliness.’
How true. What could be more important, especially if you don’t go out to work, than to be known to exist in the place where you live?
In the southwest, according to the survey, the favourite topic for starting a conversation is the weather, followed by holidays and local events. So, by these means, is our existence established. If you insist on waiting for earthshattering exchanges about the meaning of life or raging intimacy in other forms, you’ll wait forever.
Enough of that: your question, Susan, has a straightforward answer. Isn’t it the responsibility of those already living there to welcome the newcomers? Some bring round hot drinks and biscuits on moving-in day or a simple gift or enquire as to whether services are connected and the people can cook and keep warm. Don’t overwhelm or appear to be merely nosy or out to take over. People often feel homesick for their old place when they move, so these gestures are most welcome.
On the other hand, the new movees (as it were) might be sociable and outgoing. You might find them bowling up your garden path for self-introduction. This isn’t wrong. I’ve mentioned before a French couple I encountered who followed the custom of their land when taking up residence in Holland Park and introduced themselves to their neighbours. They were troubled by the apparently frosty response. ‘That’s just the English,’ I said. So, try not to be too ‘English’ if you are English.
You mention a celebrity moving in. How thrilling! Who is it? Of course you must know them, unless they’re ghastly. Treat them as you would any other new arrival but don’t betray your eagerness.
Please send your questions to Thomas.blaikie@lady.co.uk or write to him at The Lady, 39-40 Bedford Street, London WC2E 9ER
Then I asked another guest and, would you believe it, he said he has a phobia (his word – but he is a scientist) for vegetables, especially beetroot.
‘At previous dinners, a cream-refuser melted at the sight of my lemon ice cream and a voluble vegan leapt with alacrity on the Hungarian sausage. Clearly, I cannot force my lovely borscht appetiser on this guest, but I don’t want to disappoint the others who are looking forward to it, either.’
Here is a good case for not asking what people will or won’t eat. Better to wait for them to volunteer information, which they will if the aversion is serious. At a pinch, you could drop the borscht and hope the couple are too polite to enquire as to its whereabouts. If you’re really conscientious, as you clearly are, you’ll have to make something else for the veg-phobe.
I never know what to do when new neighbours move in. Should I approach them first or wait for them to make themselves known to me? A friend of mine recently had a celebrity coming to live next door, which made it even more complicated. Can you advise?
Susan Curry, Macclesfield
Dear Susan,
Before addressing your particular problem, may I draw attention to a recent survey conducted by The Big Lunch, which finds that many people love a chat with a neighbour, however trivial the subject. I mention this for the bene fit of any of us who incline to avoid our neighbours at all costs for fear of boredom or of getting stuck with them, or both.
Well, a clinical psychologist, Tanya Byron, has pronounced that small talk is not tedious and timewasting. ‘These moments are humanising and are an important acknowledgement of the individual. In taking the trouble to talk to your neighbour you may also be helping to reduce their sense of loneliness.’
How true. What could be more important, especially if you don’t go out to work, than to be known to exist in the place where you live?
In the southwest, according to the survey, the favourite topic for starting a conversation is the weather, followed by holidays and local events. So, by these means, is our existence established. If you insist on waiting for earthshattering exchanges about the meaning of life or raging intimacy in other forms, you’ll wait forever.
Enough of that: your question, Susan, has a straightforward answer. Isn’t it the responsibility of those already living there to welcome the newcomers? Some bring round hot drinks and biscuits on moving-in day or a simple gift or enquire as to whether services are connected and the people can cook and keep warm. Don’t overwhelm or appear to be merely nosy or out to take over. People often feel homesick for their old place when they move, so these gestures are most welcome.
On the other hand, the new movees (as it were) might be sociable and outgoing. You might find them bowling up your garden path for self-introduction. This isn’t wrong. I’ve mentioned before a French couple I encountered who followed the custom of their land when taking up residence in Holland Park and introduced themselves to their neighbours. They were troubled by the apparently frosty response. ‘That’s just the English,’ I said. So, try not to be too ‘English’ if you are English.
You mention a celebrity moving in. How thrilling! Who is it? Of course you must know them, unless they’re ghastly. Treat them as you would any other new arrival but don’t betray your eagerness.
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… FUSSY EATERS
Carol Stanberg writes in a quandary: ‘As usual, before my dinner party I checked whether there is anything anybody didn’t eat. I also mentioned to one couple that I might make borscht and they were definitely keen.Then I asked another guest and, would you believe it, he said he has a phobia (his word – but he is a scientist) for vegetables, especially beetroot.
‘At previous dinners, a cream-refuser melted at the sight of my lemon ice cream and a voluble vegan leapt with alacrity on the Hungarian sausage. Clearly, I cannot force my lovely borscht appetiser on this guest, but I don’t want to disappoint the others who are looking forward to it, either.’
Here is a good case for not asking what people will or won’t eat. Better to wait for them to volunteer information, which they will if the aversion is serious. At a pinch, you could drop the borscht and hope the couple are too polite to enquire as to its whereabouts. If you’re really conscientious, as you clearly are, you’ll have to make something else for the veg-phobe.