Miss Fancy Says

It’s a bit of a red letter day here at Miss Fancy Says…because we’ve received not one, but TWO queries! Yes! Here’s where Miss Fancy really gets to lead the way through tricky social minefields, with her troop of Fabulous Fellow Fancies following along!

The first question comes from ‘Perplexed’ of Fitzroy.
Question: if you are married to Mr Fancy (naturelment), would that not make you Mrs Fancy, or at least Ms Fancy? Or do you simply spurn such unfabulous societal pigeon-holing?Sincerely, Perplexed, Fitzroy
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Dear Perplexed,
This is an excellent question, and one which you have all but answered yourself.  But, having said that, please do allow me to expand slightly.  It is of the utmost importance to me that everybody understands that Mr Fancy and I are not brother and sister.  So, hold off on calling ‘A Current Affair’ or ‘Today Tonight’ just for the moment, because there’ nothing to see here, folks! 

No!  We are husband and wife!   Mr and Mrs!   God and the Attorney General… signed off on that particular pile of paperwork sixteen years ago. And yet, you ask, how is it that I’ve somehow managed to act as ‘Maid of Honour’ at weddings, even though my own Fabulously Fancy nuptial day is several years behind me?

Well, I’ll tell you.Some time ago, it became clear to me, that all Fabulously Fancy women possess, and should cherish, an inalienable right to perpetual miss-hood.  (By this, I don’t mean being a girl gangster, though I would make a fabulously stylish one. I could also have used the term ‘maidenhood’, but that has some rather unpleasant, Barbara Cartland-ish connotations, which are, frankly, not terribly Fancy.)

I should also point out here, that, on balance, ‘Mrs Fancy’ seems like a fictional (though delightful) roly-poly, bespectacled older woman, whose name and image you might find on the side of a packet of mass produced, jam-filled biscuits, and who was devised by an advertising ‘creative’ who won’t be winning any industry awards this year.

Meanwhile, ‘Ms Fancy’ comes across as some kind of mawkishly over serious, ultra ‘woke’ combination burlesque / feminist comedy / socio-political satire performer.  To which I say, respectfully, ‘yuckity, yuck, yuck.’  Not Miss Fancy’s cup of chai soy latte at all.

Then, there’s also the matter of what being married to Mr Fancy confers upon me.  You see, like most people who are lucky enough to have found the right person and slapped on the cuffs,  (or, as a slightly deaf friend of mine used to think the saying was, ‘snapped on the gloves’ – a bewildering and not terribly pleasant sounding proposition), the love of a truly good man is what allows me to really develop my considerable natural fanciness.  Plus, in the eyes of Mr Fancy, I will always be the fabulous young Miss who caught his eye so many years ago; forever ‘Miss Fancy’, no matter what dreary social convention comes along to suggest otherwise.

So!  To sum up, Miss Fancy, while retaining a natural air of ‘miss-hood’, is any number of things:  Naturally glamourous.  A respected Etiquette Mistress.  A wry social commentator.  A bespectacled baker of baked goods.  A devoted wife to her beloved Mr Fancy, who makes each day more Fabulously Fabulous than the last.But definitely, definitely, a ‘Miss’, all the same.

With love and best wishes for a Fabulously Fancy Day!Miss Fancy xx

Today, we at Miss Fancy Says… tackle the perennial topic of small spaces, and what is expected of us when we are in them. Yes!  Small spaces!  Because we live in a world full of them – elevators, trains, aeroplanes, waiting rooms; relatively tiny, shared areas are everywhere!  And what a tricky behavioural minefield they present.

Elevators are such a seemingly simple concept. They go up, they go down, dropping passengers off wherever they need to go.  But is it that easy?  Recently, a scandal took place in my very own home town!  One of my Fabulous Fellow Fancies was attempting to exit an elevator when two young men rudely pushed past her!  Yes!  I couldn’t believe it either.  A senseless social crime, and for what? Was any time saved?  Did it make anybody feel glad to be alive?  Would either of their mothers have been proud? No, no, and no!  Not in the slightest!   

Elevator etiquette is quite simple, and astoundingly easy to adhere to.  No pushing, shoving, bouncing, pushing buttons unnecessarily, or talking loudly.  And, as for the old practical joke where you walk in to a crowded elevator and then don’t turn around to face the front (thus disconcerting your fellow passengers, ha ha haaa!), don’t bother.  It’s old, tired, and about as clever or original as asking telemarketers for their home phone numbers, so you can call them back when they’re having dinner.  That is, not at all.  

Trains, trams and buses are an absolute hotbed of appalling behaviour.  Younger people not relinquishing seats to the elderly, pregnant or infirm!  Music lovers having the volume on their listening devices set loudly enough that everybody is treated to a spot of early morning tinny reverberation. People not letting others alight the vehicle before they board themselves. Commuters holding loud mobile telephone conversations, generally involving the phrase “where are you” and the electrifying counter comment, “on the tram”.  Travellers who’ve not thought ahead about the fact that they may be standing with an arm extended upward, thus putting their richly pungent underarm at somebody else’s nose level.  Public transport certainly has it all.

Now, Miss Fancy will always, always advocate the putting forward of one’s best foot, both because it sets a good example, and also, for the reason that good behaviour tends to breed the same in others.  However, occasionally, (and here, I mean very occasionally), one must enter into the fray! Obviously, all the standard rules about offering seats, keeping your music to a level at which only you can enjoy it, and keeping your underarms clean and stench-free, still absolutely apply, but there are others which can be flouted to your advantage.

If you must insist on using your mobile phone, do be considerate of others.  Either keep it quiet and brief, or else, make it lengthy and engrossing!  Yes!  Scandals, plot twists, and juicy tidbits will make the trip so much more enjoyable for others, and also give then something to share at morning tea.  The key here is, keep it reasonably realistic.  So, no Bold and the Beautiful-esque plot twists involving dead people coming back to life, and turning up at funerals, or people accidentally marrying their fiancee’s evil twin. Just a few basic shock revelations, of the ‘so it turns out he was sleeping with her and her sister all along’ variety, spoken matter-of-factly to the person on the other end of the call,  (and, indirectly, to everybody within a six-foot radius), will suffice.

There is also the matter of acceptable personal behaviour.  Only a few days ago, a very dear friend of mine found herself on a long distance train ride, across the United States!  Très chic!  Or it would have been, had the woman next to her not continued to sniffle loudly the whole way.  Eeeeuuww!  We all get colds or suffer allergies, but really, there are such things as tissues in the world (Fancy Fact – tissues have been in use for centuries in Japan!) and even handkerchiefs, so surely this could have been taken care of.  It wasn’t however, so what was my friend to do?  Something more drastic was clearly in order. 

In these situations, Miss Fancy suggests joining in.  Sniffle even more loudly, clear your throat constantly, sing along to whatever’s coming through your earphones (especially if it’s a talking book or lecture – feel free to funk it up),  ask your seat mate if they’ve heard the Good News, or, by far the most effective, mount a lengthy and concerted attempt to kiss your own elbow.  This last gambit may even earn you a whole carriage to yourself.  

Aeroplanes are, of course, another fancier, more expensive, form of public transport, although the rules are slightly different.  For example, it is virtually impossible to hop off and wait for the next one along if you’re feeling too crowded, or the person next to you is attempting to kiss their own elbow.  No, you’re stuck for the duration, so you may as well try to make the flight as comfortable for yourself, and your fellow passengers, as possible.
Obviously, some of the general public transport rules still apply – personal cleanliness, moderation of earphone noise overflow, and not attempting to involve yourself with others if they clearly do not wish to make a new friend.

That being said, air travel tends to be its own particular form of hell, with a whole set of other seemingly small interpersonal difficulties that can become quite large if they are to be endured for anything upwards of a few hours.  Probably the most significant of these relates to seating.  Who has custody of the armrest?  When is it appropriate to recline your seat?  What if I don’t have a window seat, but want a good view of the city lights as we’re coming in to land?

The answers to these very pertinent questions are, respectively:  whoever seizes it first; never during food service, or on a modestly sized domestic craft, or during a flight of less than three hour’s duration; and bad luck.

The Fabulously Fancy jetsetter will always remember to attempt to share the armrest, and wouldn’t dream of leaning across other passengers to look out the window.  But the real hallmark of the Truly Fancy, is in their attitude to reclining their seat.  Not during ‘meal’ service is a given, as it is very hard for the person seated behind you to eat their ‘mashed potatoes’, ‘beef stroganoff’, or whatever other crude semblance of food the airline may be serving, if they are wedged in under their ribcage, or, in the case of the more buxom among us, coating the underside of their bust.  Similarly, when taking a short flight on a ‘budget’ airline, who may be economising on seat size and leg room, it really won’t harm you to remain upright.  If you must insist, however, on needlessly inconveniencing your fellow passengers, do check behind you first.  If they are sleeping, you may proceed with caution. If they are reading, or have their tray table engaged,  you really will just have to straighten your spine and cut your losses.  

Fancy Tip: should the stars happen to align, and it is possible to recline your seat, do make sure that your scalp is neat and dandruff free, as the person behind you will surely be spending some of the flight inspecting it.

As for the window seat dilemma, there really is little to be done, except asking to be allocated one when checking in.  Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to lean across other passengers, so that you might get a glimpse of Sydney Harbour / the Las Vegas strip / your Nan’s house in Keilor East, as you’re circling the airport.  If that’s where you’re headed, you’ll see it soon enough.

The Fancy traveller will also remember to take some form of protection on board with them.  Here, of course, I am not referring to prophylaxis against unplanned parenthood, in the unlikely event that you might find the scent of airline loo sanitiser to be an aphrodisiac.  No, here I speak of shielding oneself against unwanted social interaction. A book, music player, laptop or tablet device can be an excellent barrier to unsolicited airborne chit-chat.  Games can also be an enormous help here, though beware the fellow passenger who wishes to join in.  Here, I speak from bitter experience.  Mr Fancy and I are partial to a spot of travel-sized Connect 4 or Battleship, even a few rounds of Hangman on long haul flights.  Our particular favourite, though, is ‘Rock, Paper, Scissors’. Or it was, until a drunken gentleman attempted to get involved.  So now, we still play a version of the classic, but with modified rules and inclusions, which make joining in almost impossible.   ‘Rock, Paper, Scissors, Fire, Water’ (played silently, and with elbows firmly tucked in at our sides, of course) has given us endless hours of fun.  There used to be a ‘butterfly’ element, but it all got a bit upsetting once ‘fire’ and ‘scissors’ came into play.

Being Winter in Melbourne, the other reasonably confined space that we may find ourselves in, is the doctor’s waiting room.  Here, it is very important to be mindful of all the usual ‘surrounded by strangers with a common purpose’ behaviours, but for slightly different reasons.  Don’t sit too close to others, as you may catch what they have, or else, give somebody who is already vulnerable, what you’ve got yourself.  If you happen to run into a friend or acquaintance, don’t engage them in lengthy conversation if they don’t seem keen or able, and absolutely no asking what they’re there for, as the answers to that question have unlimited potential for awkwardness.  

If you happen to have small children there with you, please do make every attempt to keep them reasonably quiet, and away from things like automatic doors.  There is nothing quite like the harrowing despair of nursing a really nasty flu, with all the shivering, head-pounding trimmings, while somebody’s enthusiastic toddler runs around shrieking, and frequently activating the exit mechanism of the doors, thus allowing a nice, strong, respiratory infection compatible draught in.  And do also spare a thought here for those who are waiting for frightening test results and diagnoses, whose tenuous grip on calm may be sorely tested by a lot of noise.  

Truly, library rules apply here, – it’s all about ‘inside’ voices and reading quietly. In fact, the Fabulously Fancy patient will always take their own reading material with them.  Not only does this save on squabbles over the last copy of November 2009 Royal Auto, but gives you the chance to try out one of Miss Fancy’s own patented Quality Moves.  Yes!  You could consider leaving your copy of Take5  behind, for the comfort and enjoyment of others, proving that, while you may be sporting a Rudolph nose, streaming eyes and ‘pack a day’ voice, you are still naturally, indefatigably, Fabulously Fancy!

With love and best wishes for a Fabulously Fancy Day!
Miss F xox

Since Miss Fancy Says…‘ groundbreaking blog went live, we’ve received a few truly heartbreaking etiquette questions, but the one I’m about to answer almost brought a tear to my eye, describing as it does, an issue that has cause me much sadness throughout the years.

Dear Miss Fancy,I recently attended the ballet, and found myself sitting in close proximity to somebody who spoke throughout the majority of the performance.  I found this to be quite distracting, and it really hampered my enjoyment of the show.  What steps might the Fabulously Fancy take to remedy this situation when it arises?

Yours sincerely,Cultured of Carlton

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Dear Cultured,
I am so sorry to hear this, and can sympathise unreservedly.  Some years ago, I attended a live performance by Barry Humphries, during which the chap seated behind me proceeded to explain every line to his companion, who did not, as far as I could tell, require an explanation, and was not, as far as I could tell, grateful for his efforts.  And yet, this fellow… this,…this…entertainment thief – for that, my darlings,  is what he was – stole my enjoyment, and the value of my ticket away from me, without so much as a moment’s hesitation.  And what was gained by his explaining every nuance, every double entendre?  Was this woman, or indeed anyone, edified by his efforts?  No, they were not.  It was a hate crime against those who just wanted to enjoy a Saturday evening at the theatre, sunk down low in their seats against the ever-present threat of involuntary audience participation.

Make no mistake, Cultured, this is a blight, a plague, visited upon those good folk everywhere who have paid money and taken the time and trouble to attend cinemas, theatres, arenas, circus tents, sporting ovals, and even church halls the world over.  People chatting away through eisteddfods, barracking over-enthusiastically in the ears of their fellow figure skating fans, sending text messages and checking emails while the final moments of Titanic play out on the big screen,  explaining the plot of the Grade 3 Nativity play to their companions, or just simply noisily making their way through an entire jar of pickled onions over the course of La Boheme. 

Are our attention spans so short that we cannot sit for a little while in quiet engagement with whatever it is we’ve come to see? Can we not respect the hard work and efforts of the performers enough to actually allow them do do their jobs?  Are we so sure that whatever noise or distraction we are providing is more enjoyable to the rest of the audience than the actual show we’ve each and all paid to attend?  Were we all raised by wolves?  Unable to adhere to basic social niceties and public behavioural standards?  Really, it’s the absolutelimit.  

For centuries, event-goers and often performers, have struggled to know how to handle these sorts of difficulties without adding to the problem.  I did once see stand-up comedian Daniel Kitson have the house lights raised, so that he could address a couple of non-stop talkers, asking them politely but firmly, to leave.  Other people have paid for their tickets, and you’re spoiling their enjoyment and mine, he explained quite matter-of-factly.  He then reimbursed the offenders from his own pocket, and bid them farewell.  It was a true quality move, but one perhaps only suited to that kind of performance, and not, say, a matinee of The Mikado.

There is always the possibility of a well-aimed swat with a programme, though this is really the least fancy option.  And, to be completely frank with you, my own personal strategy of directing a sharp look in the direction of the offenders has not always been completely successful, which is why I’ve come to realise that a spot of public calling to account might be the best course.

And so, I offer to you, Miss Fancy’s patented, performance ready cure-all for rude folk at public events. (TM,©MMXII) 

Imagine the scene… you’re a third of the way through Act II of the Moorabbin Mummer’s Medea! (the exclamation point, of course, denotes that it’s a musical) when you finally reach breaking point with the young man behind you, whose second cousin is in the chorus.  He has made what he mistakenly assumes to be witty comments throughout, and shows no sign of stopping now.  You’ve directed a number of pointed glances his way, even loudly muttered an irritated ‘oh, for goodness sake…’, but this loutish fool has not ceased his wittering. 

You gather yourself, take a deep breath, and rise gracefully from your seat, holding up a hand toward the stage (Supremes style) to denote that the performance needs to pause.   You turn to the offending party and recite the following, loudly, clearly, and to the basic rhythm that is, I believe, known in classical musical circles as ‘Oompa Loompa’ :

This show (event, film, match, insert as applicable) is entertaining,

But my enjoyment is now waning,

And I’m not sure what’s appertaining,

Because I’m struggling and straining,

And it’s you that I am blaming!
First you were explaining,

And then you were disdaining.It’s really very draining,

My enjoyment, you are stainingWhat is it that you’re gaining?
So if you wouldn’t mind deigning;from talking – try refraining!

From comment – try abstaining!

Your own counsel – try maintaining!

And silence – try sustaining!
Or soon I’ll be obtaining,

With the object of complaining,

And perhaps a spot of shaming,

The attention of an usherwho will have you ejected forthwith.

Cue rousing applause from your fellow audience members. You may even receive the bouquet that was intended for the lead performer at curtain call time. The modern world being what it is, somebody will have whipped out a phone and recorded the event, and before you know it,  you’ll be a YouTube sensation.  The quick thinking Fancy might also consider working in a crowd-pleasing quip about ‘poetic justice’. And, after his initial embarrassment has abated, the young hobbledehoy in question will be grateful to you for alerting him to his folly.

But most importantly, you’ll have reclaimed the enjoyment that you bought and paid for.   Huzzah!

With love and best wishes for a Fabulously Fancy Day!

Miss F xox

As you may all recall, we at Miss Fancy Says… received two letters recently, both of which asked hard-hitting questions.  As we’ve already tackled the complex issues of titles, marriage, biscuit baking and feminist comedy, today, we respond to a note that we received from one of our most Fabulous Fellow Fancies.  Thank you, ‘Postal of Parkville’, for your letter, which addresses a heartbreaking blight which seems to have reached near-epidemic proportions.

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Dear Miss Fancy,I am an international jetsetter, who has lived, worked and sent gifts from all over the world, and I adore Australia, my adopted homeland. I cannot help but notice, however, that there is one teensy thing missing (or two, if you count prawn cocktail flavoured Skips) from general, day-to-day, Antipodean life:  thank you notes.Is it wrong to expect, or even just hope, that if you send somebody a gift from afar (or even a-near, if you don’t happen to get to the party yourself), that you might receive some kind of grateful acknowledgement of its receipt?  Thank you in advance for your kind and considered response.

Postal of Parkville

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Dear  Postal,
Firstly, please let me say how grateful I was to receive your lovely note, and how pleased I am to be able to help you with your query.  

I absolutely see your point here, both about the expressions of gratitude, and the prawn cocktail flavoured Skips, which are Mr Fancy’s particular favourites.  Those you can find at Treats From Home, either via the internet, or at their retail shop on Collins Street in the city.  Thank you notes, however, are not quite so easy to come by.

Here at Miss Fancy Says… we are a card-carrying Old Fashioned Girl. We don’t discuss politics, religion or finance at dinner parties, and we try our hardest to not offend others. We believe that people who pride themselves on ‘speaking as they find’ can be rather tedious, unless they ‘find’ something pleasing, which seems to be all too rare amongst those folk.   

However! One thing we will always, always speak out about, is the importance of thank you notes.  Or even just saying thank you, which also seems to have gone a wee bit out of fashion.  

We may live in a world where it has somehow become permissible to openly and aggressively question your dining companions’ choice of schools for their children, and where people like to quote somebody called Richard Dawkins, who tends to have his name invoked like an invisible (and ill-mannered) extra guest.  A world where it is (and, oh, how it pains me to say this) apparently and inexplicable acceptable to ask other people what they earn.  Ugh. It really is the absolute end.

Miss Fancy may turn a blind eye to all of this, refraining from interjection, despite the sorrow heaving in her tender bosom, choosing instead, to attempt to steer the conversation back to areas which will not leave her fellow guests seething all the way home, and her hostess feeling that her special evening was spoilt.

But one point on which Miss Fancy is willing to scramble out onto a limb of contention over, is the utter importance of saying thank you – absolutely as soon as a gift lands in your hands, preferably accompanied by a few words about how wonderful the giver’s taste is, and generally, in person, then on paper.  

As my mother would say, no ifs, ands, or buts.  There will be no caveats, there will be no excuses.  An email may be permissible; a text, not really, unless it is perfectly worded, grammatically correct (no ‘CU’, ‘Thnx’,  ‘B’, ‘U’ or ‘GR8’) and more than five words long.  But even then, it really is a last resort.

‘Thank you’, is, like ‘please’, ‘may I?’, ‘my pleasure’, ‘after you’, and ‘allow me’, one of those dear little phrases that instantly makes the world a better place. In this context, it also serves as recognition that somebody has thought enough about you to go out (or get online) and purchase something that they believe you will love.  If that item has been posted, they may also be wondering whether or not it has arrived safely, and so, some reassurance on that front will also be appreciated.

Oh, and here’s a great Fancy Tip for parents of children who are too young to write notes, or make telephone calls – people generally understand that you are busy, so under these circumstances, an email ‘thank you’ for gifts sent to your child is fine, but do try to attach a photo of him or her wearing / being read/ playing with the gift, as the case may be.  Not only is this a lovely idea, but it will make your generous friends and loved ones less likely to decide not to bother in future.

To sum up, we are, in Western society, extremely lucky.  We tend to have roofs over our heads, food in our bellies, and internet access with which to read this excellent advice, and thus, much to be thankful for already.  If we are also so fortunate as to have people around us who care enough to generously spend their hard earned shekels  on delightful trinkets to commemorate our special occasions and milestones, it goes without saying, that the absolute least we can do is pop a little note in the mail.

With love and best wishes for a Fabulously Fancy day!

Hello my Fabulous Fellow Fancies!  Today at Miss Fancy Says… we’re going to tackle the tricky terrain of technology! The Wide World of Web!  Yes!  The internet!  Love it or hate it, it’s here to stay! And what a (n)etiquette minefield it is! In a world wide (web) first, we’ll be talking enchanting emails, Fabulous Facebooking and tasteful Twittering!

First cab of the Fancy rank is emails.  Such a boon!  Saves on paper, postage, and interpersonal dialogue.  Not since the advent of television has any single invention done so much to advance the extinction of conversation.  Huzzah! It’s quick and simple, so what could go wrong?  Puh-lenty!  

Like every form of written communication, there are rules to be observed.  Chiefly here, the importance of signing on and off.  Obviously, if your brief email is part of a long chain written in a short space of time, to somebody who you know well, then the ‘Dear Mr Charming’ and ‘Kind regards, Miss Manners’ may be dispensed with.  But if you’re writing or replying to anybody you don’t know well, in any kind of professional situation, or contacting even a dear friend, salutations and signatures are expected.  After all, you wouldn’t send a letter without one, and emails are but a swift replacement for standard mail.

Do also be mindful of the fact that emails (and text messages, for that matter) are not really able to convey tone.  So, what you might perceive as a jokey little comment, may read to the recipient as a snide remark.  Correct use of punctuation and context can help here, but really trying to read what you’ve written objectively is better, and, if you’re in even the most minor doubt, do not press ‘send’.

While we’re on the topic of emails, I’m going to share one of Miss Fancy’s most bugging bugaboos –  email forwards.  Funny ones, ‘moving’ ones, ones that tell me that I’m surrounded by angels, ones with off-colour jokes… whatever they are, if I’m that keen to read them, I’ll find them on my own, thank you very much.  Don’t get me wrong, I like laughing, feeling, being watched over by celestial beings and ribaldry as much as the next Fabulous Fancy.  I’d just like to do it on my own terms, at a time that suits me, and doesn’t clog up my inbox.

If you are keen on forwarding emails that contain naughty jokes, political, religious or racial content, then do remember this Fancy Fact!  If you’re sending these messages on to people’s work accounts, it is entirely possible that you may cost a friend their job.  Many companies don’t wish for their time. resources and technology to be used to spread lewd content, offensive ideas, or propaganda that isn’t theirs, and so avail themselves of the right to surveil their systems.  And if your friend is found to have anything on their system that can be construed by management as offensive, the consequences can be dire.
Facebook, of course, has a ‘do’s and don’ts’ list as long as your arm!

Don’t play out disagreements with others, it’s tacky, unnecessary, and deeply uncomfortable for all your mutual friends. Don’t start contentious discussions. People don’t need to be publicly brought to account about where they live, what they believe, how they educate their children, how they spend their time, or anything else that isn’t illegal.   And, here’s a very important one – don’t post photos of events that have selective invitation lists.  This is most especially true when said photos are of your colleagues, as nothing, NOTHING, will promote an air of ‘school-yardery’ in the workplace quite so quickly.  So either invite widely, or keep your cameras out of it altogether. 

Also, don’t tag people in photos without checking with them first. Other people should get to decide what appears on their own social media, and choosing for them can cause all sorts of issues.  For example, you might have had a friend over for Sunday tea, and had such a thoroughly lovely time that you’ve taken a few happy snaps of the event and posed them to Facebook, because you’ve wanted to share your joy with the world!  Your friend, however, may have had to tell her Auntie Joyce a little wee white porky-pie about having to work that day, so as to avoid her second cousin Tristram’s engagement party.  So now, the photos of you and your friend, grinning widely over a pot of Russian Caravan and some ribbon sandwiches have appeared on her Facebook, and she’s in trouble with Auntie Joyce, Tristram, Kaylene (Tristram’s fiancee) and Uncle Gerald, who have all seen her Facebook page.  Not to mention your friend’s mother, who isn’t on Facebook, but has had an irate call from Auntie Joyce, and now knows that Christmas this year is now going to be even more tense than usual. What a mess!  And all because of the innocent press of a button.

Also, think about who your Facebook friends are – my Fabulously Fancy rule of thumb is this:  If I wouldn’t be prepared to sit down to lunch with somebody, they’re not really a ‘friend’ – real world, imaginary, Facebook or other.  And on the topic of Facebook friends, something deeply un-fancy happened to me recently.  A good friend of mine split up with her boyfriend, and he ‘unfriended’ me, and anybody else he knew through her, from his Facebook lickity split!  Isn’t that the absolute limit?  This man had been in my home, eaten meals at my table, and we’d always gotten along splendidly.  The breakup hadn’t been particularly acrimonious, so, why the silliness?  I assume that if we bumped into each other at happy hour at The Regal Beagle he wouldn’t march up to me to declare that, henceforth, we are no longer friends, (unfurling of banners, sounding of trumpets, a drumroll or two) so why do it over the internet?  Extremely un-Fabulous.

Speaking of social media that has potential for spitefulness, it would be remiss of me not to mention Twitter.  Yes!  The ‘micro-blogging’ website that allows its members to post thoughts and ideas of 140 characters or less.  Now, Miss Fancy does have a Twitter account, but it is woefully underused.  Not so for the millions of people who seems to think that it’s a forum to very publicly say unkind things to and about people in the public eye.  Is this necessary?  Never.  Is it fun to read?  Rarely. Is it a way to make the world a better place? No.  Could we all just change the channel, turn off the radio, or not read the article about whatever celebrity is being a bit of a sillypants today?  Absolutely. 

The lucky few of you who know Miss Fancy personally, will no doubt be aware that I’m not much of a Pollyanna. However, one fast rule that I maintain is, that spitefulness is not a stepping stone when one is attempting to build her Fancy Empire.  And, in a world where defamation laws seem to be a thing of the past, slander is a fashion statement, and libel a way of passing an otherwise dull evening during the television non-ratings period, I would suggest that we all take matters into our own hands and start adhering to a very pertinent saying, popularised, I believe, by somebody called Thumper (who was a rabbit in Bambi, not a nightclub security operative) – if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. 
So, if you are going to ‘tweet’ on ‘Twitter’ (look at me being all ‘down with the kids’!), or indeed do anything else that will find its way into cyberspace, the Fabulously Fancy will always remember that the online world is just a more concentrated version of the real one.  

And thus, excellent manners, a modicum of really good quality sequins, remembering to say a kind thing when you think it, and the general putting forward of one best foot, makes everything Fabulously Fancy for everyone!

With love and best wishes for a Fabulously Fancy Day!
Miss F xoxo

Hello, Fabulous Fancies!

When I started this blog nine (Yes, nine! How can it be?) it was with the intention of offering a few thoughts about the etiquette of the sorts of social situations that crop up from time to time.  Chief among them was a post about the business of houseguesting.  As you will see, it turned into something of an epic, a magnum opus, if you will, and somewhere along the line, life and other posts got in the way, but now, after almost a decade, I give you, Miss Fancy’s guide to being an excellent houseguest!  

Most of us will, at some point, find ourselves staying in the homes of friends or family members. This is a tricky business, and one on which friendships can be sorely tested. And so, we at Miss Fancy Says… want to help you to do everything you can to ensure that you will always be welcome ever after.

Now, I firmly believe that there are two kinds of travellers – the kind who are keen to stay with other people, and the kind who are not. Now, I must admit here, I fall absolutely into the ‘if people want the pleasure of our company in their home, they’ll suggest it’ camp. But this is, of course, not the case for everybody, and so, if you do happen to be somebody who likes to live in with the locals whilst on holiday, we present for your edification, Miss Fancy’s top tips on how to be a fabulous houseguest.

Rule #1 – ask first! Don’t book holiday time, or worse, flights, without asking your potential hosts if it’s convenient. And if you get even the slightest hint that it isn’t, withdraw gracefully, without taking offence. After all, a hotel will tell you when there’s no vacancy – why not allow your hosts to do the same thing? A good way of avoiding awkwardness, is to mention that you’re thinking of visiting their home city for a few days. If they then offer to put you up, all well and good, but if no such invitation is forthcoming, get ready to start looking for hotels! Think of it this way; you’d be unlikely to invite yourself for dinner at a friend’s home, so apply the same principle to staying in their home.

Rule #2. Remember the very wise words of Benjamin Franklin who sagely pointed out that house guests, like fish, begin to go off after three days. Be clear about how long you’re intending to say, and ascertain whether or not that’s appropriate. Really, two or three days really should be the maximum time, but if it absolutely needs to be more, then by all means, sound your hosts out about it. 

The Out-of-TownersLet us spare a thought here for the many brave men and women who move overseas, or even to rural areas. Having found the courage to up stumps and begin to build a new live in foreign (or fronded) climes, they will often suddenly find themselves inundated with house guests. Yes! They will become the holiday destination du jour! 

So, do think twice before inviting yourself to visit your friends in Paris, London, New York, Burleigh Heads, or East Geelong, as the case may be, because it seems like an ideal holiday destination, costing not much more than air fare/bus fare/petrol. Not only might this be expensive and disruptive for your hosts, but may severely challenge their opportunities to build foundations in their adopted homeland, because they end up spending much of their spare time showing guests the sights, rather than doing anything new themselves.

Try to see it from your hosts’ point of view – it’s so hard to really get a foothold with the local light operetta company, if you’re forever traipsing round the Big Pineapple, as majestic as it is. You’ll never find yourself wowing a church hall full of enthralled onlookers with your rendition of Three Little Maids from School, if you’ve spent all your weekends at Sovereign Hill.

Would you really want to stand in the way of your hosts’ dreams? Would you?
The point is, people are polite, and doubtless, if they are moving to a new town or country, (particularly one with ‘holiday’ potential) will have assured their friends that they’d love a visit. If you are going to take up this well-meant offer, do remember to give them at least six months to settle in first, and, when you initially float the idea of coming to stay (observing Rules 1 and 2 in the process), if you get even the merest hint that your hosts aren’t keen, or are even vaguely hesitant, don’t pursue the idea, or be prepared to stay in a hotel.

Rule #3. You fit in around them, not the other way around. What this means is, if they get up at nine on weekends, so do you. If you’re an early riser, then stay in your room and read, or quietly leave the house to do a thoughtful bit of grocery shopping. Similarly, if everyone else is already up, you get up, too. It’s not fair on your hosts to have to creep quietly around their own home, for fear of disturbing you. Obviously, if you’re staying somewhere through the week, and your hosts are not on holiday themselves, make very effort not to be underfoot while people are trying to shower, make lunches, coordinate school runs and just generally maintain their morning routine. When you start hearing ‘leaving’ noises, by all means amble out and bid your hosts a good day, blowing kisses and cheering them on, if you feel they’d appreciate it, but do allow them space and privacy to get ready for whatever that day holds. Remember, the luxury of keeping whatever hours you please while you travel is only available to those who stay in hotels.

Which brings me to Rule #4. Your host’s home is not a hotel. The clue here is that there won’t be mints on the pillow at night, and also that you’re not paying to be there. 
Presumably, part of the reason for staying with friends or family is that you are saving money on accommodation, but the sad fact is, it is probably costing your hosts money to have you there. (Personally, this is Miss Fancy’s biggest bugaboo… Mr Fancy and I don’t travel as often as we’d like because fares and accommodation are expensive, so when I find myself bankrolling other people’s holidays…let’s just say I’m far from thrilled.) So, try to be aware that feeding extra mouths costs extra money, that taking people out to see the sights is expensive, and that, under no circumstances, are things like extensive use of the wifi a little added bonus from your hosts. 

So, any sightseeing you do ought to be paid for by you. Don’t offer your host money for petrol if they’re driving you around – while they’re pumping, you should be inside paying. Most people find it hard to accept money when it’s offered, so eliminate the middle man. Very few hosts will want money for general utilities, though if you’re staying for anything upwards of five or six days, you really must suggest that you contribute. 
Do offer to do a grocery run if you’re staying for more than one or two nights, and definitely at some point, a meal must be provided by you, whether you take everybody out, bring food in, or buy the ingredients and cook it yourself. One meal at least. Non-negotiable. Never eat the last of anything without asking, always replace it if you’ve eaten in, and never leave crumbs in the butter. 

Rule #5. Pitch in. It goes without saying – or it ought to, at least – that you should offer to set the table, wash up after dinner, or do any other little chores that you can, to prevent your hosts from feeling like their workload has suddenly doubled. Don’t insist on doing things that your hosts like done a certain way, but really, there is very little harm that can be done standing at the kitchen sink.

Rule #6. Be considerate. If you do use the hosts’ phone or internet, whether it is costing them extra money or not, be as swift as you can. If one of more of your hosts work from home, treat the phone and internet (unless they’ve offered you their wireless password, and you can use it in another part of the house) as off limits during business hours. Check your Tinder on your own time. Similarly, limit the length of your showers.

Rule #7. Everybody lives differently, and if you’re in somebody else’s home, it’s not for you to comment upon their habits, or get involved in their domestic life. If people are kind enough to open their home to you, you stay out of their marriages, child-rearing policies, habits, routines and anything else that is nothing to do with you. 

Rule #8. No self-mythologising. You may consider yourself to be ‘not a morning person’ and therefore, cherish your inalienable right to be taciturn or heavily silent until about 10am. Perhaps you tend to get snappy if you haven’t had your evening meal by 6pm, or don’t feel like your day is complete unless you’ve had a few glasses of wine with dinner, regardless of whether or not your hosts are offering it. This simply won’t wash in somebody else’s home. 

Now, here at ‘Miss Fancy Says…‘, we’re all for putting on the occasional diva-like turn, BUT…behaviours like this are little more than a self-indulgence, and should never be foisted upon others. No moods or sulks, no expectation that other people’s routines will match yours, and always, always, take your leads about things like alcohol consumption from your hosts, especially if they have children. Ditto other recreational stimulants – just because you and your host smoked your university years away together, doesn’t mean that he or she will want you to break out the disco biscuits, and get all hepped up on goofballs in their home, several years and a couple of kids later.

Rule #9. Give your hosts a night off. This is especially important if you’re staying for more than two or three days. Go out for the evening so that they can catch up with each other, and perhaps, if they have children, offer to take the kiddy-winks out to a movie, or stay in and mind them, so that your hosts can have their own date. You will find that even the most frazzled hostess will perk up considerably after a couple of quiet Fluffy Ducks with her beloved, so consider this evening an investment in the general tone of your stay.

And while we’re on this topic, and as an addition to Rule #3, if you’re staying with people during the working week, give them time alone to regroup and debrief when they get home. Be ready to entertain yourself for an hour or so while your hosts swap war stories, catch up with each other and get a start on their evening routine.

Rule #10. Non-medical food weirdnesses. Most hosts will be sympathetic towards allergies, and go out of their way to provide ‘safe’ food. Ditto vegetarianism, but even in this enlightened day and age, accommodating your veganism may be a little too much to ask for. In any case, you must let your hosts know well before you arrive if you have any significant dietary restrictions. No point complaining once the Lobster Thermidor is already on the table. (N.B. Being fussy doesn’t count as a dietary restriction.) If you’re gluten intolerant (given that gluten is so common in so many foods) you may need to cook for yourself, and/or bring in your own groceries. If you’re a picky eater, you may need to get over yourself, so to speak.

Rule #11. Children. If you have them, and your hosts don’t, think very carefully about whether their home and lifestyle is geared for welcoming children. If it is, all well and good, but you must make sure that yours are perfectly behaved – not messy, not loud, not destructive, and not allowed to run amok. Cast your mind back to the time before your children came along, and try to remember how cute other people’s badly behaved offspring weren’t.

If your hosts have children (or even pets) and you don’t, it’s important to remember that, in your hosts eyes, their comfort comes before your own. Do not, under any circumstances, if your hosts are the owners of a charming moggie or two, feel free to share your hilarious thoughts on why you find cats ‘creepy’. You think they’ll understand. They won’t, and you’ll end up never being asked back. Trust me here – I speak the truth. 

Obviously, in the event that your children damage or break something belonging to your hosts, you have no option other than to replace/repair/dry clean as applicable.
As for babies, and here, I’m fully prepared to make myself unpopular, if you’re breastfeeding, do it in private, or under a nursing guard, unless you’re absolutely sure that this is appropriate in the home where you’re staying. This may be a natural and beautiful part of your life as a parent, but your hosts may not be comfortable with an exposed breast in their living room, or at their dining table. Their house, their call, and this is especially likely to be the case with older relatives.

Rule #12. Add ons. If you’re going to stay with elderly relatives, or families with younger children, don’t assume that you can bring along your latest paramour. Always check first, and be prepared not to be offended if separate rooms is the stipulation. If you do decide to indulge in a spot of nocturnal tiptoeing across the hallway for goodnight kisses, be prepared that if you are caught, you may, at best, incur a lecture about your host’s roof, and at worst, be asked to leave in the morning. Obviously, it is rude to bring any spare guest with you, without having secured permission. While you’re in somebody else’s home, it is also impolite to invite guests over without first checking, and, in this age of mobile phones, there’s no reason to hand out your hosts’ home phone number, either.

Rule #13. Noise – don’t make too much of it. For many years I worked mainly from home, and tend to spend my days without television or radio on, because I like the quiet. Now I must say here, that Mr Fancy tends to enjoy constant noise, so I’m very used to the fact that on evenings and weekends, there will be continuous music or radio commentary. I don’t always adore it, but it is his home too, and he has every right to be happy and comfortable in it. However, what we put up with from loved ones is not an indicator of what we ought to have to put up with from guests. 

Rule #14. Table talk. You may think that lively debates about politics, religion, ethics, and finance are stimulating and exciting. Generally, though, they’re boorish, unnecessary, and the foundation upon which true awkwardness is built. Ditto criticising your host’s home town or country. Don’t do it. Just don’t. We all fondly imagine that everybody reasonably shares our views on all things important, but often, even our closest friends can surprise us. So frequently, one person’s perception of lively and stimulating debate, is another person’s idea of the height of rudeness. And, nothing can make an already uncomfortable evening that whisker more unbearable than the knowledge that you’ll be catching up again the very next morning over your Rice Bubbles. Of all the theories of good house-guesting I’ve put forward, this is the one that it’s least sensible to test.

Rule #15. Manchester. Not the English city that gave the world the Stone Roses and Joy Division, but rather, bedding and towels. Don’t leave your damp towels hanging in your room, or worse, in a rotting heap on the bed or floor. Ask your host where you can hang them to dry in readiness for the next day. And on your last morning, strip your bed. This will be easy enough, because you’ll have made it every other morning before you set off for the day!

Rule #16. Be clear, be resourceful, and be understanding. If your hosts live in a big city, or in a popular tourist spot, they may have already seen the sights, and not really wish to do so again. Be ready to do this on your own, and prepared to work out ways of getting to places under your own steam. The flipside of this, is that your hosts may have quite the roster of activities planned, leaving little time for you to do what you want to. Be very clear from the outset about what you have in mind – if you have other friends living in the same area and want to have an evening with them, ask your hosts what a good night to aim for might be. Email is quite the boon for this – it’s so, so much easier to outline your thoughts electronically, rather than during an awkward phone conversation where everybody is tripping over themselves to assure each other that ‘we’ll fit in with you.’ If you’re hoping to spend a bit of time doing things without your hosts, feel free to say so tactfully.

Rule #17. Saying thank you. Upon your departure, do leave a small gift somewhere that your hosts will find it. For example, a nice bottle of wine, perhaps some luxe chocolates, maybe even a cinema or spa voucher if you think they’d appreciate that. And almost as soon as you return home, (pausing only to reunite with the cat and put your laundry in to soak) send a thank you note, remembering to lavishly praise your holiday destination, your hosts’ home, and your hosts themselves, for their hospitality and generosity.
So, next time you find yourself enjoying the hospitality of friends or family, just follow these Fabulously Fancy Tips, and you’ll be welcome forever after…at a time that’s convenient to your hosts, of course!

Safe travels, and have a Fabulously Fancy Day!

Love, Miss F xx

Hello Fabulous Fancies,

Those of you who keep an eagle eye on Miss F’s blog and social media may have noticed that there has been a remarkably protracted radio silence emanating from Fancy HQ for quite some time.  You may have even noticed that I’ve made the odd mention of the lengthy gap between blog posts, with a ‘more on that later…’ type comment.

The truth is, I’ve been unable to write for quite some time, because my father died.  Sixty-nine years old, too young, too soon, and after a very difficult illness. 

Those of you who know me will also be aware that I wouldn’t generally be keen to step out of Miss F’s shoes, so to speak, and into my own, but frankly, my Dad is worth doing that for.

I could tell you my father’s life story, that he was born in 1948, in North Melbourne, and largely raised by his mother and aunt.  I could tell you that he was not an affectionate man, either physically or verbally. I could say that he was a barrister, with a keen, incisive mind.  I might mention that he was a funny man, with a deeply nuanced, dry sense of humour.

I could say all of those things, but they are not necessarily what’s important. 

What is important, is that because he was raised by strong women, he married a strong woman, and raised his daughter that way, too.  That even though he hated being hugged, and was not keen on ‘I love you’s’, he showed us his love by being there when we needed him, which weighs far more in the end, I think.   And that he knew that winning was less important than acting honourably.  And that losing him felt, for quite some time, as if so much of the sunshine in my life had been washed away.  To be very candid, often it still does.

My very first memory is of Dad.  I was about two, I guess and we were at a picnic with family friends.  I’d been careening down a grassy slope in that headlong way that toddlers do, and tumbled over.  Before I’d even had a chance to decide to start wailing, Dad scooped my up and chuckled.  I thought of that often while he was dying – how he’d taught us to not to take ourselves too seriously.

In fact, I work in a job that involves supporting people who are dying, or who have loved ones that are coming to the end of their lives.  The staff at the hospital where Dad was a patient knew that, and at one point, a nurse asked to speak with me privately.  She told me that she hoped I understood that I didn’t have to care for my family, and that I ought not to feel pressured to keep everyone’s spirits up.  I must have looked confused, because she explained that every time she passed my father’s room, she heard laughter, and she’d taken it as proof that I’d been trying to keep jollying everyone along.  The truth though, was that as long as my father had breath, there was never going to be a lack of laughter coming from any room he was in.  And that laughter wasn’t forced, grim laughter.  It was just wonderful, rich, real laughter.  Laughing with us was Dad’s way of showing that he loved us, and I wouldn’t swap that for all the ‘I love you’s’ in the world,

In the last days of Dad’s life, he began to tell his story, sharing things we had not known.  My brother and I had a precious, perfect afternoon with him, a few days before he died, just the three of us.  He was very unwell, it’s true, but clearly glad to have us both there.  The night before he died, he told us that he loved us.  It was the only time in my adult life that I’d heard those words from him, but I was keenly aware of the fact that you can wish to hear something you’re whole life, but when you actually do, can wish just as hard that you hadn’t. 

Dad imparted to us his sense of humour, and his belief in the important of ethics.  I remember him saying many years ago, that he tried always, when making management decisions, to remember that the human element is very important.   Once, when I was about sixteen, he told me to always remember that any marriage has to be big enough to fit two fully grown, separate individuals, and to never marry a man who didn’t take my dreams and aspirations as seriously as his own.  He once declined a promotion, on the grounds that he had enough money, but there would never be enough time to spend with his family, and accepting the job offer would eat into that still further.

Nearly two and a half years on from my father’s passing, I am aware every day of how bereft I am… and how lucky I was.

Hello Fabulous Fancies!

Yes! I’m back!  It’s been rather too long – more on that later – but it doesn’t mean I haven’t been missing you! No, not at all!
It’s been a busy couple of years at Fancy HQ, but I’m back in the room now, and ready to talk about one of my pet topics – dressing for special occasions.  In this instance, the special occasion in question is a trip to the theatre.  Specifically, a recent trip to Her Majesty’s Theatre, to see the Rocky Horror Show!  Yes! A true classic of stage and screen, which was so enjoyable that Mr F and I returned to see it for a second time.  

(Just as an aside, Todd McKenney was an absolute revelation as Frank, but Shane Jacobson somewhat miscast as The Narrator. Personally, I think once you’ve had the inimitable Stuart Wagstaff  politely ask permission to take you on a strange journey, you’ll never look back.)

I digress.

Ah, the theatre! The lights, the music, the gilded sconces, the palpable sense of excitement as the curtain rises,  the active wear…  (overture fades to a halt, curtain stops rising where it is, and the spotlight swings to the woman a couple of seats up from me, who is wearing tracksuit pants and a t-shirt.  Yes, you read me correctly.  A pair of black polyester stretch pants, with a bright white stripe running down the side, topped by a long sleeve cotton t-shirt.

Now, Miss F is nothing if not understanding, and certainly not a snob, (well, alright, the last bit may be a teensy fib) but really!  It’s the theatre!   Of course, my first response was to direct the poor unfortunate soul to where she was meant to be that night – Calder Raceway? Moonee Valley for the trots? McDonalds? – but then I took a long around me and realised that there were others!  Yes!  People in jeans! T-shirts! Hooded sweatshirts! At the theatre!  Really, it’s the absolute limit.

Please don’t misunderstand me – even I, Miss F, possesses a few purpose-specific items of clothing that are not entirely stylish.  Gym wear, housework wear, late night trip to Woolworths wear, I’ve got in all.  Even a ragged old slightly barn-dance looking dress, complete with frays and even the odd tear, a true schmatte,  that I wear around the house in Summer.   But the crucial difference is that I don’t wear it to restaurants, work, weddings, funerals, and certainly not the theatre!  No siree Bob! Not on your Nelly! Or anyone’s Nelly, for that matter.

(I must also point out here that nobody at Fancy Inc. has anything other than the deepest respect for those brave few who arrived at Her Majesty’s on this particular rather special night, wearing the traditional attire associated with this particular theatrical offering.  It was a cold evening, and fishnets, corsets and little else was a courageous choice. We salute you.)

You see, the thing about not dressing up for the theatre is this… unfortunately there are very few occasions in most people’s lives where, fashion-wise, there is the chance to really push the boat out.  Weddings, certain art exhibition openings, ’round number’ birthdays for fabulous friends… the list doesn’t exactly go on and on, which is why we must grab the opportunity when it arises.  But more than that, dressing up elevates the occasion, turns the mundane into the instantly memorable, makes leaving the house on a chilly Thursday evening worth it all.  And when we don’t dress up, somehow the joy is rather sucked right out of the occasion for those who did.  Elevating the occasion, you see, falls to everyone in the room, not just a select few who have to shoulder the responsibility on their own. Especially if that shoulder is slightly bared, or encased in chiffon.  Really, it’s a group effort.

So, to sum up, a Miss Fancy Rule of Thumb:   If it’s at all possible that you’re going to find yourself seated on velvet, the least you can do is not insult it with denim, nylon, fleece or polyester. 

Get gussied up, frocked up, dressed up, dolled up, prettied up – just remember that the operative word is up!  
Have a Fabulously Fancy Day!

Love,
Miss F xox

Hello my Fabulous Fancies!  Long time, no… anything much, really, as we here at Miss Fancy Says… have been inundated!  Rushed off our feet! Busy as busy can be!  But now, with the Summer peeping out prettily from beneath her lashes, and Christmas just a sip of eggnog away, it’s time to turn out attention to the finer points of entertaining!  Yes! 

Ah, parties…. a time for people to get together, catch up with friends, make some new ones, sip a Fluffy Duck or twelve, and generally let their hair down.  But these magical evenings don’t just happen! No! Perfect parties require planning, forethought and imagination.  And here at Miss Fancy Says… we’re here to help you make your entertaining dreams a reality!

Invitations are the best way to set the tone for your special gathering.  If you’re wanting people to dress formally, send out formal looking invitations.  If you’re wanting a retro theme, then make sure that your invitation has that feel – though beware!  If your party has, for example, a 1960’s theme, because you want everybody to look like they’ve stepped off the set of Mad Men , but your invitation  includes lots of ‘peace’ signs and images of Kombi vans, you’re going to end up with everybody looking like they were hoping to be extras on Taking Woodstock.  Not nearly the same.

In the immortal words of Hamlet, to costume or not to costume, that is the question.  And really, only you can answer it, but…as far as Miss Fancy is concerned, it really is a ‘no’.  Or, at the very least, ‘no, unless you have a dress theme (rather than a ‘costume’ one) which makes people look gorgeous, rather than ridiculous.’ Now, before the cries of ‘party pooper’ rise up from the ether, do hear me out.

Consider the scene:  You’ve been invited to an ‘ugly jumper and shell suit’ party, and so have already wasted much of your Saturday morning engaged in an increasingly desperate op-shop search to find the Cosby Show special of your host’s dreams.  You get it home and lay it out on the bed, all the while completely aware that your party frock is hanging a few feet away, preparing for yet another lonely night in.   You get dressed, feeling frumpy, lumpy, and unattractive, and never less like meeting new people, or even catching up with those who you know well.  It is also a truth universally acknowledged, that most Truly Fabulous people would rather invest $100 on something gorgeous, than $25 on something ugly, and so you’re very aware that you’ve spent money on an outfit that you don’t want, will never use again, and are embarrassed to be seen in.  You set out, feeling a tiny bit resentful, and a big bit self conscious. Not a great start to the festivities, is it?

So, before you start doing an image search of the most unattractive knitwear known to humankind in order to set the tone for your invitations, do stop and think of other possible themes.  Vintage (pre-1970’s though, or you’ll be seeing a lot of nylon afro wigs)… Roaring 20’s… Hollywood Glamour… A Midsummer Night’s Dream…. black and white… all things bright and beautiful…Bollywood Nights… are just some of the options that have myriad possibilities for guests to really go to town. And believe me, they’ll thank you for it when they spend their evening looking fabulous and feeling confident.

Remember, though, that dress and costume themes really are optional. We live in a world where we are lucky enough to have so many beautiful things available, and most of us have a frock or two that we couldn’t resist buying, but is almost never worn.  So, simply letting people just pop along dressed as their best and Fanciest version of themselves is a really good way to ensure that everybody starts off feeling relaxed and ready to face the world.

Of course, if you really must insist on full costume, then please do choose a motif that is broad enough for people to really spread their wings and look how they want to look, or clever enough to really get your guests talking.  Some years ago, my brother attended a 21st with a truly brilliant costume theme.  Or, to be more accurate, themes.  The birthday girl had sent out four different sets of invitations to people from the four different aspects of her social base, each bearing one of four different dress themes.  Her family had all been asked to dress as their favourite sporting personalities, her school friends had all been given the task of coming as the person who they most wanted to be when they were 16.  Her lifesaving club buddies were all to dress as nautical figures, and her uni chums were asked to come as the animal that most represented their personality.  This very imaginative and fun idea kept people engaged all evening.

Speaking of costumes, it’s generally not only the guests who’ll be expected to put their best foot forward.  To take the time and trouble to give your house a thorough cleaning, especially the areas that will be visited by your attendees.  All living areas, the bedroom where coats and bags are to be stored, the kitchen, and, please forgive my indelicacy here, but necessity drives me to it, the loo, must be neat and tidy.  The sensible host will make sure that there are plenty of tea towels within easy reach in the kitchen, and rolls of paper towel, too.  The conveniences should also be well stocked with extra loo paper and hand towels.  As much as it pains me to say it, you’ll also need to ensure that there are ashtrays in the outdoor area, for those who are still adhering to that unfortunate habit.

Decoration need not be costly, especially if you rely on mood lighting. By this I mean fairy lights, maybe even candlelight, or soft lamplight. Utilise a dimmer switch if you have one.  Do not, however, turn the lights so low that your guests cannot see one another.  This may be fine for night clubs, which need to provide something close to pitch dark in order to maximise scope for patrons  to do things that they’ll regret the next day, but at a stylish function such as yours, soft, flattering light is perfect.

Food can be another cause of party-planning stress, but it need not be.  Decide early what type of party you have in mind. If there’s a theme, it can be really fun to decide on appropriate foods, and if the guest list is suited to it, you may even be able to organise for everybody to bring a dish that fits in to the menu. This works especially well with one of my mother’s classic party themes, the ‘International Night’, where everybody brings a dish from their own motherland. If it’s to start any time before 9pm, bank on needing to provide actual food, rather than just nibbles. If it starts after 8pm, you can probably get away with a few heartier snackish things, but if it’s before then, you really will need to start looking up dishes that stretch, because dinner is definitely on the menu

The only circumstance under which you should invite people to a BBQ and ask them to bring their own meat, is if you are under 23 years of age, and a struggling student.  Otherwise, this really is the height of ridiculous – if you’re too poor to hold the kind of function that involves providing protein, then  have a different kind of celebration. Asking people to ‘bring a plate’ is perfectly acceptable in many circumstances.  Asking them to provide the basis of their own meal is not.  There is also a certain point in life where, if you are throwing a grownups party with grownups attending, there may be alcohol.  And some of this should be supplied by you.  We are indeed a drinking nation, and guests can generally be relied upon to bring something to imbibe, but…if you’re the host, the foundation of the bar is your responsibility. A bit of beer, a bit of wine, maybe even a spirit or two.  The Truly Stylish guest will, of course, add to this, perhaps even bringing whatever it is they hope to drink themselves, but the bottom line is, if you’re hosting, you’re also providing.

That being said, do feel free, should you have a friend who has a particular specialty that you love,  to ask if they might make it.  The very well brought up guest may, of course, have already asked what they can bring, and most amateur cooks will be delighted to be prevailed upon to whip up their renowned Chicken a la King.  Don’t take this too far, though.  The chicken is one thing, but adding their Devilled Eggs, Angels on Horseback and Pigs in Blankets to your request list is entirely another.  Remember, it’s your party, not theirs!  The responsibility to feed the hungry hordes rests with you.

If people offer to  bring food, then by all means take them up on it if you’d like, but do be clear with them about any themes you may be trying to stick to.  Close friends may even be happy enough to work from a recipe that you’ve got. It’s also fine to say that you will be using your own serving ware, if you want your buffet to look cohesive. Personally, Miss Fancy is generally a plain white platter girl, unless it’s Christmas (festive flatware) or a delicate afternoon tea (floral china).  Plus, this little edict will save your generous contributor from digging out their Nanna’s Willow Ware platter and schlepping it across town, only to find that it’s going to be washed and relegated to the coat room almost as soon as it arrives.

And a final word on themed party food – do try to make it delicious – as fun as your seventies theme might be, a lot of seventies hours d’ouvres recipes are, by today’s standards, quite unpalatable, so try to find or adapt recipes so that they fit the theme without being unpleasant.  The ‘it’s funny because it’s gross’ joke only lasts a moment, but the uneaten food is there for the duration.

As far as keeping your guests entertained goes, don’t just think that you can rest on your laurels and wait for the magic to happen.  It may well, but it’s best not to bank on it.  Obviously I’m not talking about setting up a mini golf course in your living room and hiring a bouncy castle (unless you want to, and it fits in with the tone of your occasion), but making sure that people’s glasses are freshened, that your guests have been introduced to at least two people who they might not know, and that there’s a really great selection of music for people to dance to.  The trick with that, unless you have an ‘era’ theme, in which case you may be forced to have Culture Club on high rotation all night, while the Rolling Stones languish at the bottom of the pile, is to keep the music mixed across a number of decades.  If you start at the early 60’s and lead it right up to the present, there should be something for everyone.

(If you are going to be providing activities, do remember before you set out the Twister and draw up the grid for the hopscotch tournament, that whether people participate or not is up to them.  A little reminder that if anybody wants to play badminton, the net’s all set up, is fine. Chasing people around, trying to press your shuttlecock into their hand, is not.)

Another excellent hostess gambit for dealing with shy guests is to press them into service.  Not at the kitchen sink – that will only compound the issue, but handing around canapes can be an  excellent icebreaker for the shy.  Also, do think if quietly asking a shy guest to do you a wee favour, of the “You see that woman over there in the pink dress?  She’s very shy, and I was wondering if you might help me out and start a conversation with her?  I hate to think she’s not enjoying herself” variety, and soon, enough, your two little wallflowers might blossom into social fabulousness together.
Consider too, the possibility of having a quieter area for people who just wish to chat.  As fun as bellowing “What do you do?…What do you DO?…WHAT’S YOUR JOB?…..JOB….WORK…”  into a new friend’s ear might be, the novelty wears thin once you start to get the sense that your throat might be bleeding slightly.  So, offering those who might want to use your social gathering to actually be sociable a place to do so, is a fabulous idea.  This will also be really appreciated by your non-drinking guests.

Some other people who it’s nice to spare a thought for while your planning your party, are the uninvited guests.  Here, I do not refer to the screaming masses who might turn up because of a Facebook ‘event’ page malfunction, but rather, your neighbours.  If they’re lying in bed at 3am on a Sunday morning, staring fixedly at the ceiling, while their entire home vibrates to the sound of your Black Sabbath collection, all the while aware that in a few short hours, they’re going to be picking up a lot of your  friend’s cigarette butts and beer cans, (or even, feasibly, one of your your friends themselves) from their driveway, to Miss Fancy’s mind, that makes them a party guest, willingly or otherwise. The point here, is when planning your party, do think of the people next door.  You may want to give your friends a night they’ll remember forever, replete with ear-splitting musical stylings, and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t.  But!  Do remember, that long after you’ve packed away the hostess trolley, your neighbours may still be silently (or perhaps openly) resentful.

This, and parking, are the things that ‘over the fence’ wars are made of. You may think that this is no real concern of yours, but think how you’ll feel the next time you’re headed to the Gold Coast, and you pop around to ask that nice older couple next door if they wouldn’t mind clearing your junk mail.  You knock.  The car’s in the driveway.   The lights are on. You see a curtain twitch, but nobody answers the door. You begin your trip idly wondering if you’ve somehow managed to cause offence, but that then escalates into all-consuming concern; it completely ruins Movieworld. Eventually you return home to a tidal wave of Kmart catalogues, and frosty glares across the driveway.  And all because you weren’t thoughtful enough to turn the noise down at a reasonable time.  Was it worth it? Here at Miss Fancy Says…, we think not.

So!  With the warmer weather and Yuletide upon us, if you just follow our Fabulously Fancy tips, you’re all set to be the most noted and celebrated host of the season!

Have a Fabulously Fancy day!

Miss F. xox

Hello My Fabulous Fancies,
As you will all know,  here at Miss Fancy Says… we’re not much of ones for using social media for grandstanding on any topics other than etiquette, and the occasional foray into fashion advice.  However, in the last couple of days, something too important to ignore has come to our attention, and it would be quite ridiculous not to call it to your attention, too.

A few weeks, ago, Irish drag performer Panti Bliss found herself embroiled in a difficult situation during a televised debate on the subject of marriage equality.  Miss Bliss used the word ‘homophobia’ to describe the attitudes of the members of the Iona Institute who were arguing the opposing cause.

The link to more details is here, but more importantly, a few weeks later, having been subjected to public censure from myriad ‘interested’ parties, Panti decided to take to the stage at the Abbey Theatre, to share her side of the story.  Miss Fancy implores you, to take ten minutes to watch her noble and moving speech.  It is impassioned, eloquent, reasoned and intelligent – all the qualities that anybody who is even vaguely considering weighing in on the topics of gay rights or marriage equality, should possess.  

Apart from that, Miss Bliss is ultra stylish, deeply elegant, and a true example of Natural Glamour – the real kind, which comes from within. (Though of course, the other kind, which shows itself in her practised command of both platinum Marilyn wig and stiletto heels, is also not to be sneezed at.)  Watching her in action, one cannot help but feel that it is beyond ludicrous that the matter of equal rights for all, no matter who they might like to kiss, is a discussion that is still alive and hotly contended in this day and age.

Isn’t she Fabulous?  And such a shining example of how to give a speech (do have a peep at Miss Fancy’s recently published guide to speechmaking, if you haven’t already) with aplomb, humour and sincerity.  An inspiration to us all.

With love and best wishes for a Fabulously Fancy day!

Miss F xox