How to host the perfect Christmas party

Things going wrong are an opportunity for the magic to happen

Christmas
(Photo by Fox Photos/Getty Images)

Cool guests, hot food; cool music, warm hostess: the recipe for the perfect party, and the motto of Perle Mesta, one of the most successful postwar Washington hostesses.

Good King Wenceslas, a model host of even greater status, lived out this motto in legendary style centuries earlier. His guests were cool, if not downright frozen; their host was warm of heart (and sole, as the page discovered on treading in his footprints). The food was hot, for the king ordered up pine logs along with the flesh and wine. As for the music, the rude wind’s…

Cool guests, hot food; cool music, warm hostess: the recipe for the perfect party, and the motto of Perle Mesta, one of the most successful postwar Washington hostesses.

Good King Wenceslas, a model host of even greater status, lived out this motto in legendary style centuries earlier. His guests were cool, if not downright frozen; their host was warm of heart (and sole, as the page discovered on treading in his footprints). The food was hot, for the king ordered up pine logs along with the flesh and wine. As for the music, the rude wind’s wild lament must have been on the cool side — though jollier tunes would surely have prevailed once the king and his fellow diners made it back to the royal fireside.

You could do worse than draw inspiration from these two — a child of Mammon and a child of light — for the ultimate Christmas party this year. Perle Mesta’s motto tells you the how, but Good King Wenceslas tells you the why, and one of the sovereign rules of party-throwing is always to have a why.

“To have a good time!” is too vague. Really good parties do sometimes just happen; I once spent a highly entertaining evening at an impromptu book burning. But mostly they require strategic thought. For example, if you were a political hostess, perhaps you’d be aiming to bring together influential or interesting persons in a relaxed atmosphere, the better to discuss specific ideas or projects. Which persons — and which projects? And what kind of atmosphere would make the best setting to achieve the desired outcome? Once you know the answer to those questions, you can start to craft the perfect backdrop for the magic.

Perhaps you’re introducing a new friend to your social circle, or perhaps you’re starved for intelligent and lively conversation and you know your other friends are too. Perhaps you’ve been going through a difficult or dull time and you’d like to escape from the mundane into an evening of sparkle, dressy outfits and high spirits.

Good King Wenceslas’s why was to share the joy of Christmas and the comforts of his kingly home with a specific person he thought might appreciate it — namely, yonder peasant. An example for us all. For successful entertainment, you need something to share, and people to share it with, though these days it’s not manners to refer to your guests as “yonder peasants” except as a joke.

The first thing to decide is when to have your party. Too early, and nobody will feel like celebrating yet; you’re better off just having a party, without mention of Christmas. Too close to the actual day of Christmas, and no one will be able to come (family plans, last-minute preparations, and so on). Martha Stewart advises that you send out invitations early. But the Canadian hostess Sondra Gotlieb says to buy good caviar and your guests will come whenever you want.

Now for the guest list. There is probably a small core group of people you intend to have regardless; inviting a few new elements to an established social circle can bring out new aspects of old friends. One Washington hostess took great delight in bringing together people of completely opposing opinions in order to stimulate conversation (think a Freedom Convoy trucker seated next to Justin Trudeau, or a climate activist next to a Kinder Morgan executive). Still, it might be prudent to recall that civilized disagreement is not one of the strengths of our age. Guests should have something in common, and no one should feel they’ve been invited merely as a foil for someone else.

The very best hosts of my acquaintance are people-connoisseurs. They appreciate the uniqueness of each friend and assemble a guest list like a cheese board. But more than just the choice of guests, their kindness — what Good King Wenceslas would call charity — flows around each visitor and provides a sort of glue for the evening, letting each one feel included and called upon to put forward his best self.

La Bruyère once noted that the art of conversation consists far less in displaying much wit oneself than in helping others to be witty: the man who leaves your company pleased with himself and his own wit is very well pleased with you. The host of the year, in other words, is not afflicted with Main Character Syndrome. He is an expert, not only in feeding, watering and entertaining, but in making his friends shine.

Many guides to holiday hosting provide tips to avoid stress. How wrong they are! As Leonard Bernstein once said, the way to achieve great things is to have a plan and not quite enough time. Without a bit of adrenaline, your party will be no fun. Things going wrong — a power outage, the accidental incineration of the main course, the toppling of the Christmas tree — are an opportunity for the magic to happen.

It is at moments like these, when the whole group is moved to a powerful common reaction, that parties go from good to great. Everyone suddenly laughing together at the same thing, everyone gasping as the lights go off, everyone pulling together to make the party go despite the ruined food — this is the stuff memories are made of.

The entire Christmas season is about the perfect host, who like Good King Wenceslas has a superabundance to share. This host looked out his window one day and saw a whole passel of peasants out in the cold. Wanting them to share in his joy and the comforts of his dwelling, he sent his only son out into the bitter winter to invite them and lead them back to the royal hall, where he would serve them food and wine before a blazing pine-log fire.

This immortal deed of hospitality is the original pattern on which Wenceslas modeled himself, and in our various lesser ways, so do the rest of us who welcome guests this Christmas. Let the halls be decked, and the season be jolly.

This article was originally published in The Spectator’s December 2024 World edition.

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