Miss Manners^®

DEAR MISS MANNERS: At an annual Christmas party sponsored by an organization that I belong to, one female (we will call her Alexa) was making a point of telling others that another woman (call her Briana) has worn the same dress three years in a row to the Christmas party and how tacky it was. I feel that Alexa was the one being rude and tacky. It doesn't change anything, but Alexa is living with Briana's old boyfriend. This is probably the cause of the diarrhea of the mouth in the first place.

I, like most guys, don't pay attention to who wears what, when or where. I am friends with both women and feel, as a friend, I should tell Briana, in a private setting, what was pointed out at the party (not who said it!). I would hate to see her come next year with the same dress, since it has been brought to others' attention. Hopefully, Alexa will see this and learn from her mistake. What is your view on this?

GENTLE READER: That there is more than one troublemaker here, and Miss Manners would appreciate it if you would leave well enough alone.

That Alexa made a catty remark does not reflect badly on her target, who was at least spared from hearing it, but on herself. Now you want to repeat the insult, complete with the tease of refusing to identify the source so that Briana can suspect everyone at the party of hostility. Furthermore, you accept the ridiculous premise that it was blameworthy of Briana to repeat wearing the same dress, presumably a favorite holiday party dress, and you want to "correct" her.

How you think this teaches Alexa a lesson Miss Manners cannot imagine. Her hope is that she can teach you one.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My wife was performing in the alto section of a very large chorus in Handel's "Messiah," a piece I know well. The seats were general admission, and my son, granddaughter and I found ourselves in the balcony, behind a young attractive couple who were obviously not musicians, but very respectful of the performance.

This happy state of affairs lasted until the intermission. In the second half, the young man began to fondle (my word), or caress or stroke (my wife's words), the young woman, who was totally passive, doing nothing to encourage or discourage his actions.

I tried my very best to ignore what was literally right in front of me. I held up my program to screen it out, but to no avail. My irritation mounted, and I carefully assessed my options:

1) I could get up, leave my seat, disrupt people on the aisle and, inexplicably to my family, find another seat.

2) I could attempt to ignore the behavior.

3) I could fume and fuss internally.

After considerable thought, I decided to speak to the young man after the concert, and was then able to concentrate on the "Hallelujah" chorus. As we were filing out, I carefully took him aside when his companion was not within earshot and told him that his behavior had significantly disturbed my concentration.

His words to me were, "Sir, I am very sorry that you were disturbed; my sincere apologies." I was very impressed with his demeanor, and readily accepted his repeated apologies.

Is it possible that I might have overreacted to the situation itself? Can you think of a better way in which I might have handled it?

GENTLE READER: Congratulations on preserving peace on Earth, or at least in the balcony. Knowing the music crowd well, Miss Manners is grateful that you didn't consider violence. How you feel is not something she wishes or is able to control. What she does care about is that you controlled yourself enough to deliver the rebuke in a way that was apparently inoffensive.

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How many of you gentlemen are engaged in righteous protests, fueled by outrage that it is your own closest relatives and friends who are pressuring you to betray your principles?

Miss Manners finds it amazing how worked up gentlemen can get when they are asked to dress up. Those simple words, "black tie," make them see red.

Not all of them, of course. Some who see red are willing to don evening clothes if only they can turn the outfit into something more sprightly. So they add red ties and cummerbunds, or pink ones, or, if they stick to black ties, ones that come in funny configurations.

This is a whimsical, although curiously un-amusing, form of protest. Diehards will refuse to wear any semblance of evening clothes, preferring either to defy their hosts or to stay home and sulk.

Miss Manners has never succeeded in finding out what this was really all about -- but not for lack of hearing gentlemen's laments.

The chief complaint is that evening clothes are uncomfortable. Mind you, we are not talking about white tie, with its stiff shirt, waistcoats and tails -- the get-up in which orchestra conductors habitually jump up and down and flail their arms about.

Most formal events now require only the dinner jacket, once the informal alternative to full evening dress. This is cut like any ordinary suit, with which a soft shirt may be worn, so if it is less comfortable than other suits, complaints should be directed at one's tailor, not one's hosts. Especially if they come from people wearing tight jeans.

A distaste for conformity is a big issue to those for whom casual is law. But Miss Manners is afraid that any credibility this argument might have is undermined by those who make it. They have the impertinent habit of hectoring gentlemen who don't conform to their dress code of jeans or khakis and T-shirts, ordering them to take off their jackets and ties.

Another professed objection is based on the antique notion that evening clothes are the costume of comic-strip plutocrats who smoke cigars and hang onto lampposts for balance. Americans used to pity and be amused by countries where the citizens all wore drab work clothes and the leaders were belligerently underdressed for state occasions; now those people have discovered fashion, and we wear drab work clothes and are suspicious of formality.

Miss Manners suspects that what it really signifies is the reluctance of anyone over drinking age to be taken for an adult. While very young gentlemen are dressing like hardened thugs, their elders are trying not to look grown up. (The gentlemen, that is. As pubescent girls affect the jaded hussy look, their elders feel safe in doing so, too.)

This seems a particularly bad bargain. If forfeiting stylistic variety and glamour could purchase eternal youth, Miss Manners (who was born old and marches happily on from there) supposes it might be worthwhile. But it has become just another compensation -- along with precedence and other forms of respect -- that adults have given up, for which they have gotten nothing in return.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have a dilemma that I suspect only you can adequately address, given that it involves a lady fainting.

I dressed much too warmly for a Christmas party at the home of my husband's colleague and, in true Victorian style, overheated and fainted dead away. My genial host, along with my husband and two other guests, caught me, carried me to the living room, and revived me most graciously. The gentlemen reviving me were all surgeons and were mildly disappointed that I was experiencing no abdominal distress, but they hid their disappointment as best they could.

The dilemma I am experiencing is that I do not know how to adequately thank my hosts (a married couple with small, darling children) for their kindness. I know that tending to my needs took them away from their other guests and, frankly, I feel awful about it. I try so hard to be a pleasant, low-maintenance guest.

GENTLE READER: Flowers. Normally these are presented to a lady who has brought off a melodramatic dramatic scene, but Miss Manners would consider it a graceful gesture to your hosts who played the supporting roles, as it were.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am in my mid-30s, single and childless by choice, and I live in a large city three hours away from my parents, who still live in my rural childhood home. Every year starting around Dec. 1, they are inundated with calls from my old classmates and ex-boyfriends who are calling to see when I'll be home for the holidays -- they want to "catch up" with me.

I have no interest in speaking with any of these people again, much less spending a few hours with them and their screaming children (they never want to come and visit ME, they want me to stop by their parents' houses where 15-plus hyper children are running amok).

I was finished with these people years ago, but they are oblivious to that fact (especially the ex-boyfriends). One persistent fellow phoned my parents' home every other day starting on Thanksgiving, asking if they had relayed his phone number to me (they had) and wondering aloud why I hadn't phoned him yet.

I don't know who gets more irritated, my parents or me. Do you know of a gentle way to permanently discourage someone from bugging the living crap out of my folks?

GENTLE READER: Madam, please control yourself. You do not have to see these people, but you need not use such language about people who were your friends and whose crime is their continued interest and offers of hospitality. And Miss Manners will fastidiously refrain from commenting on your attitude toward children.

There is no polite way to tell well-meaning old friends that you never want to see them again. Your parents should say firmly that they don't know what your plans are but know that you are terribly booked up; if repeatedly implored, they can only repeat that they have given you the message.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: This year, my husband and I are playing host for our family's Christmas celebration. My mother plans to bring her current beau, and he is Jewish. We like and respect him, and we want him to feel welcome in our family celebration, but we do not want to offend him by either ignoring his traditions or by participating in traditions we have no rights to. How can we, as gracious hosts, adjust our celebration to include his traditions?

GENTLE READER: With the best intentions in the world, you could embarrass and offend your guest by introducing some element that you consider Jewish into your Christmas party.

American Jews have a wide variety of ways of dealing with the centrality of Christmas, from ignoring it to adapting the customs for Hanukkah to participating in the secular aspects. These attitudes are not framed lightly, and you cannot hope to guess this gentleman's.

If you are having other Jewish guests with whom you are on close terms, you could ask them to help you make your party somewhat ecumenical. Simply singling out a newcomer smacks of saying, "Oh, look, there's a Jew here." You should either de-emphasize the religious aspect of your celebration or accept him as a welcome observer of the same, and a full participant in the social aspect.

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