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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

TREASURE HUNT


Antique etiquette books, like this Victorian edition, can be an amusing and relevant source of information for entertaining. 
 (Cheryl-Anne Millsap / The Spokesman-Review)
Cheryl-anne Millsap The Spokesman-Review

The world is a more casual place that it was just a few decades ago.

Perhaps that’s why some of us find vintage etiquette books so appealing. They take us back to a time when lives were ordered and genteel. A time in which there were rules for both social and private behavior; rules for proper dress and even guidelines for entertaining.

My first etiquette book was a gift from my grandmother. She presented it to me at a restaurant where we had gathered for my 16th birthday.

I opened it, thumbed through it and before I realized it, was absorbed in the world of elegant occasions, toasts over champagne glasses and what to wear to a funeral.

Now I have a small collection of etiquette books, from a beautifully bound Victorian edition to my broken-in Emily Post. Throughout the year, particularly during the holidays, I love to spend time looking through them. The wording is sometimes quaint and flowery, but the message is always clear: There is a right way to do almost everything.

Things have changed a lot since most of those books were written.

Dressing for dinner has evolved into being reminded, again, to take off your baseball cap or at least turn it around the right way. And for goodness sake, pull up your pants.

Table etiquette means keeping your feet off the table and the volume on the television low enough so that anyone who wants to converse, can.

Socially, we’re rude and proud of it. Road rage, slamming telephones and sarcastic insults are the way we share opinions.

To be honest, I like the informality of today’s world. I like snuggling into the sofa with a diet Coke and a big bowl of popcorn to watch a movie on a big-screen television set.

I like to dash off a quick e-mail rather than take the time to pick up a pen and write a long letter. I like my faded, thin-in-the-knees jeans, comfy boot-socks and clogs, and eating peaches while standing over the kitchen sink.

But when it comes to special days like the holidays, when the table is set with heirloom china and my grandmother’s silver candlesticks; when the long linen tablecloth is ironed and snow-white napkins are folded at every place; when I put fresh flowers in a cut-glass vase and a hand-written menu on the sideboard, I appreciate the information and sense of formality one finds in those old books.

Each time I see my copy of “Emily Post’s Etiquette” I remember the day it was given to me, and the first lesson on social graces it provided. While the rest of the family chatted, I was slumped in my chair with both elbows on the table and my chin in my hand, lost in the world of formal banquets and the proper way to address visiting royalty.

My grandmother got my attention when she plucked the book from my hands and dropped in into my lap.

“Mind your manners,” she said with a smile. “No reading at the table.”