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The Everything Guide to Partying (Without Regrets)

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The Everything Guide to Partying (Without Regrets)

Forty-three highly sociable people, from Ivy Getty to Rufus Wainwright, offer tips on how to be a stellar guest and a gracious host. Read this before you say yes to the next invitation.

As the summertime social whirl was about to begin, we asked dozens of socially adept people — socialites, artists, designers, restaurateurs, party planners — to weigh in on how to be the kind of guest who gets invited back and how to be a gracious host.

Their advice addresses all aspects of party-going and party-throwing, from dealing with the jitters that may go with preparing for a social event to saying a proper goodbye at night’s end.

We’ve divided their counsel into eight chapters: Getting Ready; Entering the Space; How to Converse; Party Etiquette; Hot Topics; Drinking, Gummies, Etc.; Houseguests; and When the Party’s Over.

(Interviews have been condensed and edited for clarity.)

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1

Getting Ready

For guests and hosts alike, it’s a good idea to develop the right mind-set before the party gets started, our interviewees said.

Lang Phipps, copywriter

You want to feel happy to see people. If there’s some anxiety about it, you have to get into your “people mode” and out of “yourself mode,” which may require changing the channel in your psyche a little bit. You have to put on that social facade.

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Rebecca Gardner, event planner, interior designer

When you accept an invitation, you have an obligation to bring something. You can be the most beautiful person at the party who brings glamour. You can be the person who brings an expensive wine. Or you can bring a sprinkle — which means you sprinkle joy or wit or personality to a party. You have to bring something.

Sarah Harrelson, editor in chief of Cultured magazine

If you’re going to go, go. Do not plan to leave the party early. If you have to leave early, I say do not come. And don’t ask who else is coming. That is rude.

Alex Hitz, chef, author

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Bring a sense of humor. Bring positive energy. That anecdote of yours? Cut it by 98 percent, practice it in front of the mirror, and in six months you can bring it to the party.

If you get dressed for a party, make an effort. You honor your host by making an effort. You don’t show up in Uggs and a neck doughnut.

Ariel Arce, bar and restaurant owner, caviar entrepreneur

Take a Genius beforehand. It’s a fantastic edible, with THC and caffeine, so you’re chatty but a little loose.

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Larry Milstein, entrepreneur

Eat beforehand. You aren’t distracted about what’s being served or chasing down a tray of mini hot dogs, letting you focus on the most important thing: connecting with people.

Maneesh Goyal, bar and restaurant owner

There are certain things that will irk the host. One is when you ask the question that should never be asked: “What should I bring?” Instead, you should say, “I’m already planning on bringing some Champagne and wine. What else should I bring?” Or don’t even ask and just show up with something!

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Wes Gordon, creative director

Remember, no matter how nervous you may feel as a guest, the hosts are most likely more nervous and stressed. As the guest, you have the easier job.

2

Entering the Space

The very start of a party can be its own special challenge. Our interviewees had advice on how to step into the arena.

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Lizzi Bickford Meadow, brand strategist

Smile! It’s as simple as that. Walk into a room with a friendly demeanor. If you don’t know the host, find them and introduce yourself.

Tefi Pessoa, pop culture commentator, online content creator

I decide that everyone in the room already likes me before I even enter said room.

Daisy Prince, journalist

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There’s a New Yorker cartoon my parents used to have in our kitchen. It was just a picture of a bunch of people standing in suits and dresses. They’re all having what looks like a very adult conversation, and the bubble above the newcomer is: “Yikes, grown-ups.” I think there’s always a little “yikes, grown-ups” for all of us. So just settle for a minute and then go to the hostess, because your duty, as a guest, is certainly to say hello.

Kristy Hurt, headhunter, career coach

Make three connections. You don’t have to meet every single person, but go into the party and meet three people. Ten words or less. Elevator pitch.

Kendall Werts, talent agency co-founder

Don’t forget to laugh. It’s about your eyes and your smile. Nobody wants to work to bring you out of your sad-sack shell!

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Rufus Wainwright, singer-songwriter

You have to be athletic and work the room. Separate from your partner. Both of you should cover each side.

Harry Hurt III, journalist

When working a room, it’s best to obey the 30-second rule: Say hello, talk, and quickly move on.

Liz Lange, designer, owner, Grey Gardens estate, East Hampton, N.Y.

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You don’t want the person you’re speaking with to think you want to move onto someone else “better.” But you don’t want to spend the evening sequestered in the corner with just one person. After a few minutes, it’s polite to excuse yourself by saying you want to refresh your drink.

Athena Calderone, interior designer

Some of my earliest friends in New York remember me as a wallflower. I was so nervous when people would ask me “What do you do?” That was a scary question, because I had yet to define the answer. These feelings can affect your presence in a space. I think it’s important to show up anyway and be who you are.

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Jennifer Gilbert, event planner

Stop bringing candles to people’s homes. We all know they’re regifted. There are only so many candles any house can take!

Kyle Hotchkiss Carone, hospitality executive

I hate that move of pretending it’s the first time you’ve met someone, because you’re worried the other person won’t remember you. It’s: “Nice to see you.” Not: “Nice to meet you.” Always!

Molly Jong-Fast, writer, political commentator

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Even if you forget who somebody is, pretend you remember them, because people hate it when you forget them. Just pretend you remember people, even if you don’t, because it’s just kind. One thing I’ve noticed is that people in New York sometimes pretend not to know you, even if they do, whereas people in D.C. pretend to know you, even if they don’t.

Bronson van Wyck, event planner, author

The best way to make a bad impression is to complain. You may think you’re bonding with another guest by complaining, but that’s a cheap bond. You’re not adding anything when you say something like, “Can you believe how long it took to get here?”

Impana Srikantappa, investment executive

Relax. Everything is going to be fine. If you operate with the mind-set of “everything is going to be fine,” then everything is going to be fine. But if you stress out, then everything is going to stress you out.

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3

How to Converse

It seems to come down to listening and asking questions — and resisting the temptation to make it all about you.

Laila Gohar, culinary artist

I have this theory that dinner guests fall into two different categories: “characters” and “glues.” Characters are big personalities, the life of the party. They are conversation-starters. Glues are good listeners. They’re soft-spoken and hold conversations together. You need the right balance. Too many characters will start competing for attention. Too much glue and things can get boring. When I put together a guest list, I think of it like casting a movie.

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Susan Gutfreund, socialite

A good dinner party is where you mix people up. You mix them up, and you pray it’s going to work like a horse race — you pray it’ll go down to the end, to the wire.

Josh Flagg, real estate agent, TV personality, author

If somebody’s having a bad day, I get it. And if you make it the topic of conversation for the entire dinner party, that’s fine — you just won’t be invited again.

Bronson van Wyck

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This is one of the top three things a great guest can do for a host: Figure out the person who knows the fewest people or is the most socially awkward, and go talk to them for five minutes. They’re there because the host cares about them, presumably. And the host wants this person to have a nice time. You can help make that happen!

Max Tucci, restaurateur

A good guest is someone who shows up authentically and doesn’t try to be someone else. Name-dropping, being affected, social-climbing — leave all that at the door.

Sara Ruffin Costello, hotel designer, advice columnist

I have a friend who talks a lot. People are excusing themselves to go to the bathroom when they get stuck with her. Try listening. When in doubt, try David Sedaris’s bizarre conversational icebreakers. “How long have you known your dentist?” You have to have a certain personality to pull that off.

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Alex Hitz

A party is not a therapy session. No one wants to hear your problems at a party. There’s the terrible renovation story that no one wants to hear. And no one wants to know what’s wrong with you physically. They’ll call you a bore. Tell a joke or two. Tell everyone they look great.

Kyle Hotchkiss Carone

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There is a specific skill that is probably just charisma, but it’s when you know how to meet the energy of the person or group you are chatting with. I hate being asked very specific questions. Tell me a story. If it’s interesting, I’ll tell you one back. And around and around we’ll go.

Kendall Werts

“Real Housewives” is always a good source of conversation, because these people aren’t real, but they remind you of people in your own lives. You can’t go wrong talking about scandals and celebrities. I hear a lot of things out there on the streets. People love to hear about that. It’s very Truman Capote. People want to drink the tea.

4

Party Etiquette

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Smartphones, social media, food, footwear and punctuality were topics that came up when our interviews touched on party don’ts.

Maneesh Goyal

Never show up early, because the host is always frantic and needs that last half-hour.

Bronson van Wyck

Show up 15 minutes late. Even the best host or hostess appreciates that grace period. It’s beyond priceless.

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Jennifer Gilbert

Don’t go walking into somebody’s house and automatically think you can smoke. Ask. And don’t bother the host in the kitchen.

Romilly Newman, chef, food stylist, social media personality

Don’t bring a guest to a seated dinner. People just say, “Oh, can I bring my amazing friend?” And it’ll be 20 minutes before.

Rebecca Gardner

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Please don’t ask people to take off their shoes when entering your apartment. It’s rude.

Romilly Newman

When you invite people into your home, you need to let go. You can’t be like, “You can’t touch this” and “You have to take your shoes off” and “If you spill something, you are in trouble.” Hosting is letting your guests enjoy themselves.

Alex Hitz

Do not tell your host what you can or cannot eat. Your host is not an airline or a short-order kitchen.

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Max Tucci

For hosts, don’t assume people are not allergic to things. Ask if there are any food allergies from the beginning. Emily Post would never have said that, but in the climate we’re in today, it can change the whole night.

Susan Gutfreund

You have to be responsible. This one is a vegetarian, which is a new thing in today’s world, versus the old days, where you just served a meal. Today, you have to be very aware — vegetarian, vegan, all these things. And you do the best you can.

Jennifer Gilbert

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As a hostess, always have something vegan, because the whole world is funny about food now. There should be a gluten-free, dairy-free vegan option, because if people don’t tell you beforehand, you’re like, “Here’s some lettuce.” They’re sitting there with an empty plate, and you feel terrible.

Max Tucci

If you’re going to have a sit-down, I love name cards. Now, my trick for name cards is to write the name on both sides, so if someone’s sitting at the table and doesn’t know the other person, they can read the name.

Rufus Wainwright

In Europe, it’s very gauche at a dinner party to sit next to your husband. You have to sit with somebody else. They never seat married people together.

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Lela Rose, fashion designer

I never sit spouses together. You see your spouse all the time.

Maneesh Goyal

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There is nothing worse than a guest who is on their phone. Always being on your phone, or only talking to one person the entire time, is the worst.

Larry Milstein

The best decision I made when hosting a milestone birthday was asking people to stow away their phones upon arrival. It changed the entire dynamic of the evening. As the meme goes, “Not a cellphone in sight, just people living in the moment.”

Lizzie Bickford Meadow

Posting from an event can be tricky. If it’s a private gathering, I think it’s nice to ask the host if they’re OK with you posting. They may want to keep it just that — private!

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Kyle Hotchkiss Carone

I think it’s strange to Instagram someone else’s home. I’m not sure why; it just feels wrong.

Zibby Owens, media executive, bookstore owner

If you’re in someone’s house, don’t go secretly snooping around and posting photos. Also, take cues from the host. If they’re posting pictures, by all means post back. But never post somebody’s children. Unless you ask first, don’t even take their picture.

Molly Jong-Fast

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It’s bad guesting to immediately call gossip pages after a party. That’s called bad guesting.

5

Hot Topics

In a time of political polarization and war, are some things off-limits? The answers varied.

Harry Hurt III

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Do not discuss politics, religion, or pornography, all of which are quite similar.

Liz Lange

No! Everything is fair game! I don’t believe in the old rule of no politics, no religion, no money, no sex. It’s all fair game.

Elise Taylor, senior writer, Vogue

I do believe no one’s mind is being changed over a cheese plate at a cocktail party.

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Bronson van Wyck

Gosh, I don’t think you can avoid certain topics in 2024. I think the world would be a better place if more people of different viewpoints broke bread and shared a glass of wine and talked about things.

Lang Phipps

It’s just tacky to talk politics when it’s so divisive.

Plum Sykes, journalist, novelist, socialite

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I think we are in a time of perhaps the most geopolitical instability I have seen in my lifetime — it would be odd to avoid such subjects. I recently sat next to a wildly well-informed media baron and asked him for his views on Trump, Biden, Ukraine and Putin, and I had a fascinating dinner. Ask people their views, be interested in others, and you will get invited back over and over.

Julie Reiner, bar owner

Talking politics these days can shut down a good party. I think knowing your audience will help you decipher whether or not any topic is OK.

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Jennifer Gilbert

I had a dinner maybe a month and a half ago, and I invited a diverse group. It started with the whole can-you-believe-what’s-going-on-with-college-campuses type of thing. And it got so heated that somebody threw their drink across the table, looked at me and said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t sit here if these are your friends,” and stormed out.

It was a woman who stormed out. She threw the contents of the drink — she didn’t throw the glass, but she threw the wine on him. It was white wine, luckily.

Ken Fulk, designer

The old adage says to avoid discussing politics or religion at a party, but politics are so all-consuming right now. It’s crucial to be thoughtful. The art of civil discourse appears to be lost, and I think it’s time to resurrect that.

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Rufus Wainwright

I was at a dinner party the other night with my husband, and he brought up what was going on in Israel with some Israelis. It got heated. It didn’t end in agreement, but they were able to be civil afterward, and I was impressed by that. I do think we actually live in an age where you should at least address some of the things that are happening. Don’t expect to solve anything — but we can’t ignore it, obviously.

Sara Ruffin Costello

I think you want to avoid talking about actually having sex with your husband. Nobody wants to hear that. I don’t even want to hear Giselle talking about that.

6

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Houseguests

There is someone in the spare bedroom for an extended stay. Maybe that someone is you. What now?

Emma Gwyther, brand consultancy executive

Arriving with an appropriate host gift is a nice way to start. And I wouldn’t extend or shorten your trip without prior notice, because your hosts are blocking out their calendar.

Ariel Arce

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Do things without being asked. Do the dishes. Take out the trash. Don’t leave hair in the sink.

Kendall Werts

You can be cute. But don’t think you’re décor. Never show up empty-handed. Bring a bottle — vodka or tequila or white wine. Nothing worse than a bottle of red wine that spills. Offer to help make breakfast.

Sedi Sithebe, event planner

When you’re staying at someone’s house, don’t use it as a hotel. And don’t sleep in. I can’t stand when people sleep in, in my house! And don’t leave your bed unmade. Fill the fridge. Unload the dishes. And make sure the matriarch of the family is happy. That is the way you get invited back.

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Elise Taylor

The worst houseguests are high-maintenance. Figure out how to get there without bombarding the host with texts. I assure you, your transportation quandaries can be solved via Google.

Nikki Haskell, socialite

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Houseguests cannot bring guests. Those are the ones who burn a hole in the duvet and steal the car.

Patricia Altschul, “Southern Charm” cast member, socialite

A houseguest should never appear with an animal or an extra person, unless they have arranged it beforehand. They should never be demanding, messy or sleep with the hostess’s husband or wife.

7

Drinking, Gummies, Etc.

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Our interviewees had thoughts on how to survive a party — with or without drugs or alcohol.

Maneesh Goyal

Drink your drink of choice, but never over-drink. Do that on a bar crawl with your best homies, but never do that at someone’s home.

Amy Sacco, nightlife impresario

Manage your cocktails. Manage your edibles.

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Patricia Altschul

Here in the South, the topic of when to say when is not something that one has to consider. My favorite quote is from Dorothy Parker: “I like to have a martini, two at the very most. After three, I’m under the table. After four, I’m under my host.”

But if someone has had too much to drink, I usually offer to help them get home and call them a car. They usually don’t realize I’m also pushing them out the door. I once had a guest who had too much to drink. He said goodbye, and I thought he had left. The next morning, the butler discovered him passed out on the dog bed!

Joey Wölffer, co-owner, Wölffer Estate Vineyard

I know exactly how much alcohol I can have before I am not presenting myself well. I like people having fun, but slurring? You are not coming back, if you’re a slurrer. At a certain age, too, you just can’t do that anymore. The drug thing is not my thing, so I don’t get the mushroom party thing.

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Sara Ruffin Costello

What gets you invited back is mushrooms. Bringing them. What doesn’t get you invited back is also bringing mushrooms. So that can go both ways.

Elise Taylor

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Follow your host’s lead. If they want to have a wild night, they’re probably hoping you will partake along with them. But if they’re not a weed smoker, now’s not the time to break out the pen.

Rufus Wainwright

I’m amazed at how, when I was using a lot of drugs and drinking a lot, how I really believed that everybody was doing it. And once I stopped, I was like, No, I was kind of the only one.

Athena Calderone

I am team gummies as long as it’s giggly and not too slippery. Ha ha ha! I mean, we’ve all had those nights when someone else has had to put us to bed. So, no judgment.

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8

When the Party’s Over

How do you leave gracefully? And what about the dishes?

Kendall Werts

Never say goodbye. Send a text the day after.

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Wes Gordon

I tend to say goodbye discreetly. I am an admitted homebody and one of the first to leave, so I don’t want to bring the mood down.

Ivy Mix, bar owner, bartender, author

I personally think saying goodbye is important. Especially to the host. But if you can’t find them, or if slipping out the door is the only way to get out, then a text saying goodbye should do. No matter what, I always send a text thanking the host and saying how nice the evening was. That goes a long, long way.

Ivy Getty, socialite, model

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I’m the biggest believer in Irish exits. I think that if you tell people you are leaving, it’s kind of disappointing, so why would you tell them? It raises this whole point of “You’re leaving?” And it pauses the whole vibe.

Rufus Wainwright

Hugs and kisses and all of that is great. But I’m a fan of the French exit. If somebody just disappears without a word, I think that that’s totally fine.

One of the most fabulous things that my husband and I have experienced is, we were at dinner with Bette Midler, and she insists on doing the dishes, wherever she is, at her house, or at somebody else’s house. “I’m doing the dishes!” She needs to do the dishes. That’s probably one of the reasons she’s so successful — she knows she could do dishes, if she had to.

Maneesh Goyal

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To get invited back, there is the art of the thank you. If it comes too soon, like when you’re in someone’s driveway, it doesn’t seem considered. A text is fine, but something handwritten is beautiful.

Susan Gutfreund

This is a huge new thing in New York, where people no longer thank. I’m old enough and spoiled enough that, if I make an effort to give a dinner party and invite you, I hope you will acknowledge it. It’s just old-fashioned manners. When you’re invited, and you accept, you thank.

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Amy Sacco

If you had a good time, even if it’s a week later, call and say, “Just thinking of you today, thank you again for a beautiful evening.” Or put that on a card with a stamp and throw it in the mail. It’s lovely to get something like that. Handwritten cards are wonderful.

Max Tucci

We’re not in the handwritten note days anymore, but send something afterward, a thank-you note, a follow-up. And don’t use the word “can’t,” as in, “I can’t wait to see you again.” No! Make it: “I look forward to seeing you again.” Something that evokes that positive energy into the next step.

Molly Jong-Fast

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Texts are fine.

Patricia Altschul

My mother had an expression: “The queen leaves before the footman.” Meaning: Do not be the last person to leave a party!

As the hostess, I expect everyone to leave at the designated time. If they don’t, I have several foolproof ways of dealing with stragglers. First, I turn off the music. Then I walk around with a candle snuffer in hand, gradually extinguishing the candles. Finally, I start picking up the glasses, even the ones people are still drinking from.

Once the room is dark and the alcohol has stopped flowing, most guests get the message. But there’s always someone who foolishly believes you want the party to go on all night. That’s when I say, “Do you need me to call you a car?”

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L.A. Affairs: I loved someone who felt he couldn’t be fully seen with me

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L.A. Affairs: I loved someone who felt he couldn’t be fully seen with me

He always texted when he was outside. No call, no knock. It was just a message and then the soft sound of my door opening. He moved like someone practiced in disappearing.

His name meant “complete” in Arabic, which is what I felt when we were together.

I met him the way you meet most things that matter in Los Angeles — without intending to. In our senior year at a college in eastern L.A. County, we were introduced through mutual friends, then thrown together by the particular gravity of people who recognized something in each other. He was a Muslim medical student, conservative and careful and funny in the dry, precise way of someone who has always had to choose his words. I was loud where he was quiet, messy where he was disciplined. I was out. He was not.

I understood, or thought I did. I thought that I couldn’t get hurt if I was completely conscious throughout the endeavor. Los Angeles has a way of making you feel like the whole world shares your freedoms — until you realize the city is enormous, and not all of it belongs to you in the same way.

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For months, our world was confined to my apartment. He would slip in after dark, and we’d stay up late talking about his family in Iran, classical music and the particular pressure of being the son someone sacrificed everything to bring here. He told me things he said he’d never told anyone, and I believed him.

The orange glow from my Nesso lamp lit his face while the indigo sky pressed against the window behind him. In our small little world, we were safe. Outside was another matter.

On our first real date, I took him to the L.A. Phil’s “An Evening of Film & Music: From Mexico to Hollywood” program. I told him they were cheap seats even though they were the first row on the terrace. He was thrilled in the way only someone who doesn’t expect to be delighted actually gets delighted — fully, without guarding it. I put my arm around his shoulders. At some point, I shifted and moved it, and he nudged it back. He was OK with PDA here.

I remember thinking that wealth is a great barrier to harm and then feeling silly for extrapolating my own experience once again. Inside Walt Disney Concert Hall, we were just two people in love with the same music.

Outside was still another matter.

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In February, on Valentine’s Day, he took me to a Yemeni restaurant in Anaheim. We hovered over saffron tea surrounded by other young Southern Californians, and we looked like friends. Before we went in, we sat in the parking lot of the strip mall — signs in Arabic advertising bread, coffee, halal meats, the Little Arabia District — hand in hand. I leaned over to kiss him.

“Not here,” he said. His eyes shifted furtively. “Someone might see.”

I understood, or told myself I did, but I was saddened. Later, after the kind of reflection that only arrives in the wreckage, I would understand something harder: I had been unconsciously asking him to choose, over and over, between the people he loved and the person he loved. I had a long pattern of choosing unavailable men, telling myself it was because I could handle the complexity. The truth was more embarrassing. I thought that if someone like him chose me anyway — chose me over the weight of societal expectations — it would mean I was worth choosing. It took me a long time to see how unfair that was to him and to me.

We went to the Norton Simon Museum together in November, on the kind of gray Pasadena day when the 210 Freeway roars in the background like white noise. He studied for the MCAT while I wrote a paper on Persian rugs. In between practice problems, he translated ancient Arabic scripts for me. I thought, “We make a good team.” Afterward, we walked through the galleries and he didn’t let go of my arm.

That was the version of us I kept returning to — when the ending came during Ramadan. It arrived as a spiritual reflection of my own. I texted: “Does this end at graduation — whatever we are doing?”

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He thought I meant Ramadan. I did not mean Ramadan.

“I care about you,” he wrote, “but I don’t want you to think this could work out to anything more than just dating. I mean, of course, I’ve fantasized about marrying you. If I could live my life the way I wanted, of course I would continue. I’m just sad it’s not in this lifetime.”

I was in Mexico City when these texts were exchanged. That night I flew to Oaxaca to clear my head and then, after less than 24 hours, flew back to L.A. No amount of vacation would allow me to process what had just happened, so I threw myself back into work.

My therapist told me to use the conjunction “and” instead of “but.” It happened, and I am changed. The harm I caused and the love I felt. The beauty of what we made and the impossibility of where it could go. She gave me a knowing smile when I asked if it would stay with me forever. She didn’t answer, which was the answer.

I think about the freeways now, the way Joan Didion called them our only secular communion. When you’re on the ground in Los Angeles, the world narrows to the few blocks around you. Get on the freeway and you understand the whole body of the city at once: the arteries, the pulse, the scale of the thing.

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You understand that you are a single cell in something enormous and moving. It is all out of your control. I am in a lane. The lane shaped how I drive. He was simply in a different lane, and his lane shaped him, and those two facts can coexist without either of us being the villain of the sad story.

He came like a secret in the night, and he left the same way. What we made in between was real and complicated and mine to hold forever, hoping we find each other in the next life.

The author lives in Los Angeles.

L.A. Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the L.A. area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $400 for a published essay. Email LAAffairs@latimes.com. You can find submission guidelines here. You can find past columns here.

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The Nerve Center of This Art Fair Isn’t Painting. It’s Couture.

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The Nerve Center of This Art Fair Isn’t Painting. It’s Couture.

The art industry is increasingly shaped by artists’ and art businesses’ shared realization that they are locked in a fierce struggle for sustained attention — against each other, and against the rest of the overstimulated, always-online world. A major New York art fair aims to win this competition next month by knocking down the increasingly shaky walls between contemporary art and fashion.

When visitors enter the Independent art fair on May 14, they will almost immediately encounter its open-plan centerpiece: an installation of recent couture looks from Comme des Garçons. It will be the first New York solo presentation of works by Rei Kawakubo, the brand’s founder and mastermind, since a lauded 2017 survey exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute.

Art fairs have often been front and center in the industry’s 21st-century quest to capture mindshare. But too many displays have pierced the zeitgeist with six-figure spectacles, like Maurizio Cattelan’s duct-taped banana and Beeple’s robot dogs. Curating Independent around Comme des Garçons comes from the conviction that a different kind of iconoclasm can rise to the top of New York’s spring art scrum.

Elizabeth Dee, the founder and creative director of Independent, said that making Kawakubo’s work the “nerve center” of this year’s edition was a “statement of purpose” for the fair’s evolution. After several years at the compact Spring Studios in TriBeCa, Independent will more than double its square footage by moving to Pier 36 at South Street, on the East River. Dee has narrowed the fair’s exhibitor list, to 76, from 83 dealers in 2025, and reduced booth fees to encourage a focus on single artists making bold propositions.

“Rei’s work has been pivotal to thinking about how my work as a curator, gallerist and art fair can push boundaries, especially during this extraordinary move toward corporatization and monoculture in the art world in the last 20 years,” Dee said.

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Kawakubo’s designs have been challenging norms since her brand’s first Paris runway show in 1981, but her work over the last 13 years on what she calls “objects for the body” has blurred borders between high fashion and wearable sculpture.

The Comme des Garçons presentation at Independent will feature 20 looks from autumn-winter 2020 to spring-summer 2025. Forgoing the runway, Kawakubo is installing her non-clothing inside structures made from rebar and colored plastic joinery.

Adrian Joffe, the president of both Comme des Garçons International and the curated retailer Dover Street Market International (and who is also Kawakubo’s husband), said in an interview that Kawakubo’s intention was to create a sculptural installation divorced from chronology and fashion — “a thing made new again.”

Every look at Independent was made in an edition of three or fewer, but only one of each will be for sale on-site. Prices will be about $9,000 to $30,000. Comme des Garçons will retain 100 percent of the sales.

Asked why she was interested in exhibiting at Independent, the famously elusive Kawakubo said via email, “The body of work has never been shown together, and this is the first presentation in New York in almost 10 years.” Joffe added a broader philosophical motivation. “We’ve never done it before; it was new,” he said. Also essential was the fair’s willingness to embrace Kawakubo’s vision for the installation rather than a standard fair booth.

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Kawakubo began consistently engaging with fine art decades before such crossovers became commonplace. Since 1989, she has invited a steady stream of contemporary artists to create installations in Comme des Garçons’s Tokyo flagship store. The ’90s brought collaborations with the artist Cindy Sherman and performance pioneer Merce Cunningham, among others.

More cross-disciplinary projects followed, including limited-release direct mailers for Comme des Garçons. Kawakubo designs each from documentation of works provided by an artist or art collective.

The display at Independent reopens the debate about Kawakubo’s proper place on the continuum between artist and designer. But the issue is already settled for celebrated artists who have collaborated with her.

“I totally think of Rei as an artist in the truest sense,” Sherman said by email. “Her work questions what everyone else takes for granted as being flattering to a body, questions what female bodies are expected to look like and who they’re catering to.”

Ai Weiwei, the subject of a 2010 Comme des Garçons direct mailer, agreed that Kawakubo “is, in essence, an artist.” Unlike designers who “pursue a sense of form,” he added, “her design and creation are oriented toward attitude” — specifically, an attitude of “rebellion.”

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Also taking this position is “Costume Art,” the spring exhibition at the Costume Institute. Opening May 10, the show pairs individual works from multiple designers — including Comme des Garçons — with artworks from the Met’s holdings to advance the argument made by the dress code for this year’s Met gala: “Fashion is art.”

True to form, Kawakubo sometimes opts for a third way.

“Rei has often said she’s not a designer, she’s not an artist,” Joffe said. “She is a storyteller.”

Now to find out whether an art fair sparks the drama, dialogue and attention its authors want.

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They set out to elevate karaoke in L.A. — and opened a glamorous lounge that pulls out all the stops

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They set out to elevate karaoke in L.A. — and opened a glamorous lounge that pulls out all the stops

Brothers Leo and Oliver Kremer visited karaoke spots around the globe and almost always had the same impression.

“The drinks weren’t always great, the aesthetics weren’t always so glamorous, the sound wasn’t always awesome and the lights were often generic,” says Leo, a former bassist of the band Third Eye Blind.

As devout karaoke fans, they wanted to level up the experience. So they dreamed up Mic Drop, an upscale karaoke lounge in West Hollywood that opens Thursday. It’s located inside the original Larrabee Studios, a historic 1920s building formerly owned by Carole King and her ex-husband, Gerry Goffin — and the spot where King recorded some of her biggest hits. Third Eye Blind band members Stephan Jenkins and Brad Hargreaves are investors of the new venue.

Inside the two-story, 6,300-square-foot venue with 13 private karaoke rooms and an electrifying main stage, you can feel like a rock star in front of a cheering audience. Want to check it out? Here are six things to know.

The Kremer brothers hired sculptor Shawn HibmaCronan to create an 8-foot-tall disco-themed microphone for their karaoke lounge.

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1. Take your pick between a private karaoke experience or the main stage

A unique element of Mic Drop is that it offers both private karaoke rooms and a main stage experience for those who wish to sing in front of a crowd. The 13 private rooms range from six- to 45-person capacity. Each of the karaoke rooms are named after a famous recording studio such as Electric Lady, Abbey Road, Shangri La and of course, Larrabee Studios. There is a two-hour minimum on all rentals and hourly rates depend on the room size and day of the week.

But if you’re ready to take the center stage, it’s free to sing — at least technically. All you have to do is pay a $10 fee at the door, which is essentially a token that goes toward your first drink. Then you can put your name on the list with the KJ (karaoke jockey) who keeps the crowd energized throughout the night and even hits the stage at times.

Harrison Baum, left, of Santa Monica, and Amanda Stagner, 27, of Los Angeles, sing in one of the 13 private karaoke rooms.

Harrison Baum, left, of Santa Monica, and Amanda Stagner, 27, of Los Angeles, sing in one of the 13 private karaoke rooms.

2. Thumping, high sound quality was a top priority

As someone who toured the world playing bass for Third Eye Blind, top-tier sound was a nonnegotiable for Leo. “Typically with karaoke, the sound is kind of teeny, there’s not a lot of bass and the vocal is super hot and sitting on top too much,” he says. To combat this, he and his brother teamed up with Pineapple Audio, an audio visual company based in Chicago, to design their crisp sound system. They also installed concert-grade speakers and custom subwoofers from a European audio equipment manufacturer called Celto, and bought gold-plated Sennheiser wireless microphones, which they loved so much that they had an 8-foot-tall replica made for their main room. Designed by artist Shawn HibmaCronan, the “macrophone,” as they call it, has roughly 30,000 mirror tiles. “It spins and throws incredible disco light everywhere,” says Leo.

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Lights beam on a stage.

Karaoke jockeys Sophie St. John, 27, second from left, and Cameron Armstrong, 30, right, get the crowd involved with their song picks at Mic Drop.

3. A concert-level performance isn’t complete without good stage lighting and a haze machine

Each karaoke room features a disco ball and dynamic lighting that syncs up with whatever song you’re singing, which makes you feel like you are a professional performer. There’s also a haze machine hidden under the leather seats. Meanwhile, the main stage is concert-ready with additional dancing lasers and spotlights.

Brett Adams, left, of Sherman Oaks, and Patrick Riley of Studio City  sing together in one of the private rooms at Mic Drop.

Brett Adams, left, of Sherman Oaks, and Patrick Riley of Studio City sing karaoke together inside a private lounge at Mic Drop.

4. The song selection is vast, offering classics and new hits

One of the worst things that can happen when you go to karaoke is not being able to find the song you want to sing. At Mic Drop, the odds of this happening are slim to none. The venue uses a popular karaoke service called KaraFun, which has a catalog of more than 600,000 songs (and adds 400 new tracks every month), according to its website. Take your pick from country, R&B, jazz, rap, pop, love duets and more. (Two newish selections I spotted were Raye’s “Where Is my Husband” and Olivia Dean’s “Man I Need,” which both released late last year.) In the private karaoke rooms, there’s also a fun feature on Karafun called “battle mode,” which allows you and your crew of up to 20 people to compete in real time. KaraFun also has an entertaining music trivia game, which I tested out with the founders and came in second place.

The design inspiration for Mic Drop was 1920s music lounges and 1970s disco culture, says designer Amy Morris.

The design inspiration for Mic Drop was 1920s music lounges and 1970s disco culture, says designer Amy Morris.

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5. The interiors are inspired by 1920s music lounges mixed with ‘70s disco vibes

A disco ball hangs from the ceiling.

A disco ball hangs from the ceiling.

If you took the sophisticated aesthetic of 1920s music lounges and mixed it with the vibrant and playful era of 1970s disco culture, you’d find Mic Drop.

When you walk into the lounge, the first thing you’ll see is a bright red check-in desk that resembles a performer’s dressing room with vanity lights, several mirrors and a range of wigs. “So much of karaoke is about getting into character and letting go of the day, so we had the idea to sell the wigs,” says Oliver. As you continue into the lounge, the focal point is the stage, which is adorned with zebra-printed carpet and dramatic, red velvet curtains. For seating, slide into the red velvet banquettes or plop onto a gold tiger velvet stool. Upstairs, you’ll find the intimate karaoke studios, which are decorated with red velvet walls and brass, curved doorways that echo the building’s deco arches, says Mic Drop’s interior designer, Amy Morris of the Morris Project.

Sarah Rothman, center, of Oakland, and friend Rachel Bernstein, left, of Los Angeles, wait at the bar.

Sarah Rothman, center, of Oakland, and friend Rachel Bernstein, left, of Los Angeles, wait at the bar.

6. You can order nontraditional karaoke bites as you wait for your turn to sing

While Mic Drop offers some of the food you’d typically find at a karaoke lounge such as tater tots, truffle popcorn and pizza, the venue has some surprising options as well. For example, a 57 gram caviar service (served with chips, crème fraîche and chives) and shrimp cocktail from Santa Monica Seafood. For their pizza program, the Kremer brothers teamed up with Avalou’s Italian Pizza Company, which is run by Louis Lombardi who starred in “The Sopranos.” He’s the brainchild behind my favorite dish, the Fuhgeddaboudit pizza, which is made with pastrami, pickles and mustard. It might sound repulsive, but trust me.

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As for the cheeky cocktails, they are all named after famous musicians and songs such as the Pink Pony Club (a tart cherry pomegranate drink with vodka named after Chappell Roan), Green Eyes (a sake sour with kiwi and melon named after Green Day) and Megroni Thee Stallion (an elevated negroni named after Megan Thee Stallion).

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