Party a Great Excuse for Grand Illusions

Have you ever said, “We are just going to have a few people over?”
I know I have and we both know we were lying.
Nobody “just has a few friends over.” The part about the friends is true. They actually come, and hopefully everyone has a good time. The lie is in saying “just.”
There is nothing just (as in simple as opposed to right and fair) in waging war against dirt and disorder in your home. It is a big job to try to fool your guests into thinking you always live graciously, elegantly, and, most of all, neatly. Whenever I have a party, big or small, I have a mission to create the illusion of a House Beautiful and it is never just “just.”
Are you guilty of going to a party at someone’s home thinking, “Gee, it would be great to live here; everything is so neat and clean. All they probably had to do to get ready was fluff the pillows, throw on a tablecloth, stick some flowers in a vase, and light the candles.”
It is fine to think that, because that is what the hosts want you to believe even if they were out of breath when they answered the door.
Don’t try to visualize how things looked a few hours earlier.
Don’t wonder:
-Where they stashed all the newspapers that were piled up;
-What they did with the junk stacked up on the kitchen counters;
-How they kept those knick knacks on the coffee table from getting broken;
-Do they always have those fancy hand towels in the bathroom folded like origami?
Supposedly the key to a successful party is to make it look effortless. I once read an article about party planning including a preparation timetable. The last half hour before the party begins you are supposed to have everything ready, including yourself. Then you and your spouse can spend a few moments relaxing and catching your breath in front of the fire.
I’ve never managed to do this except when our guests are late. If they are even five minutes early, prospects are good for finding me in hair curlers and sweat suit on my hands and knees washing the floor.
Usually, the first doorbell ring is my cue to run upstairs and get gorgeous. What’s good about this initial lack of attention is that guests get to browse around the house drinking in the illusion I busted a gut to create.
These house cleaning details are fresh in my mind because I just had a party. Things looked great around here. Too bad it doesn’t last.
A party is good incentive to do stuff that needs doing but never gets done. There are the big preparations like gutting the kitchen and adding a room, which I did last year before we had a graduation party for John’s sister.
For the recent event I didn’t get quite so carried away, although I removed an ugly light fixture, had a sofa re-upholstered, had new pillows and table skirt made, and cleaned, cleaned, and cleaned. I started out organizing, and ended up stuffing and throwing things, mostly into the garage.
It would be easier to get ready if I had some cooperation from my offspring, but they don’t understand why they have to pick up their bedrooms if we are having guests in the dining room, or why they have to clean the basement if no one will go down their.
“Because I want it cleaned,” I answer. “I can’t have people in a clean house with a dirty basement. That is like getting dressed in clean clothes after taking a shower and putting dirty socks back on.”
Having the house bordering on perfection is my dream for entertaining. Not surprisingly, it doesn’t occur. What is surprising is what gets accomplished when party time is minutes away. A couple hours of sorting and organizing work is scooped in a couple of seconds into grocery bags and hustled into hiding. Lace doilies and bouquets of flowers camouflage banged up tables. Furniture is rearranged to make it more presentable, lights are dimmed so the dirty windows aren’t so obvious and a can of leftover paint and a q-tip are used to touch up all the nicks on the walls.
Then we are as ready for the festivities as we’ll ever be.
March 22, 1988