OPINION - Christmas party season is upon us: this is your survival guide
It’s that special time of year again — no, not Black Friday — the time where much like a pregnant Mary and her husband but-not-the-father Joseph, we journey back to the cities of birth to be counted, sleep on a blow-up mattress in the office, and eat our own weight in cheese. (Or not, if your family still haven’t recovered from a previous holiday faux pas).
But before that of course, we relive an end-of-term giddiness, a “just winding up for the year” wine at 2pm on a Tuesday. We pour a libation to our bosses at Christmas parties, have long, languorous lunches with friends we haven’t seen since June (you know who you are), or if you are self-employed, justify not doing any work from December 1.
Much like a fattened Christmas goose, calendars have never felt fuller than in the run-up to December 25. It’s a cri de Compeed, a reason to dress like a bauble and time to make a plan to Get Through It.
Dos and don’ts for hosting
Whether you’re throwing open the patio doors and hosting in your own home or you’ve booked the community centre, there are certain dos and don’ts that will make everyone’s life easier. And they have nothing to do with a ready-to-rock prawn ring.
Don’t expect people to take their shoes off at the door
A wipe, yes. Off, no. None of your friends want to see Nigel from next door’s mouldy old toes poking out of his sock. You have to take the risk of people tracking mud, or worse, across your new-ish rug. That’s how it is.
Do have plenty of ice
Eight thousand years ago, I helped throw a squat party in Peckham. We had a fully functioning bar and despite all of us being… let’s say, not exactly showroom condition, we made sure that the bar was stocked with enough ice for everyone, all night. If I can do it then, you can do it now.
Do make sure you have an even spread of sexualities
One fresh out the closet lesbian and three straight blokes from work does not a party make, and vice versa. No one wants to feel left out at Christmas.
Don’t expect people to drink that weird bottle of avocado flavour liqueur you won last year in the school raffle
Once at a party someone made me martini with a large slosh of room temperature vodka and half a can of olive brine, neither shaken nor stirred. And while that is stuck forever in my memory like my best friend from school’s phone number, I think it’s nice to offer:
Wine everyone likes at the appropriate temperature — chic box is fine, and avoids the tables filling with empties.
Cocktails that don’t take ages to make and aren’t pretentiously obscure.
Soft drink options plural, now rawdogging life has become popular. Treat them with the same thought as wine. You wouldn’t offer a room-temp Picpoul de Pinet, would you?
Dos and don’ts for attending
Whether or not you charge your social battery by going to every party you’re invited to, or you highly curate your calendar and enjoy the space between parties bathing in golden solitude, these handy tips will help you pirouette through party season, as light and airy as the sugar plum fairy herself.
Do assume the brace position
It is just how it is that you will run into an ex, or someone you hold a grudge against, or worse, both. The late Duchess of Devonshire suggests mouthing the word brush as you enter the room, which leaves one’s face holding a forced smile. I prefer the much more modern, but equally beatific arse.
Don’t ask who is coming
At every party there will be:
someone you don’t know who you’ll become best friends with for an hour and then not recognise at all next time you speak to them;
someone you’re a bit eye-rolly about but they are quite nice really;
someone you’d fancy if your politics aligned;
someone who will get so out of it that some mysterious and chaotic creature will be unleashed;
and some crushing bore who’s had a pity invite.
There, you don’t need to ask, I’ve just told you.
Do arrive with something
A small neutral gift; a nice candle perhaps or a reassuringly expensive bauble shaped like a prawn, if you quite like the host. A Gollum’s purse full of gossip, if you adore them.
Do make an effort
It’s been a hard year for everyone. I don’t know anyone who has tra-la-la’d through 2024 unscathed. And now, as we celebrate its final countdown, its not untimely demise, it’s time to throw a little glitter on and go out. Why not make a dress out of a foil balloon, or dress up like both of the witches in Wicked? There is nothing that warms the cockles more than walking into a room and everyone drawing breath at your fabulous “look”.
Don’t say goodbye to everyone before you leave
Personally I like to say, “I’m going to the loo,” and then quietly mutter, “at home,” if I get stuck talking to someone when I want to leave. But if you must, say goodbye to the host, the next two people you like the most, and scarper. Make sure your car is waiting outside though; there’s nothing more embarrassing than being found shivering waiting for an Uber when everyone decides to shuffle outside to share a contraband Vogue Menthol.
Don’t panic
Putting on a happy face, going to parties, feeling sociable, seeing old friends and assimilating feelings of joy and goodwill to mankind will all be over in a minute. We can go back to being miserable in January.
Hanna Hanra is editor of BEAT and a contributing editor of The London Standard