Just before she left the house the other morning, said Letitia Baldridge, who has revised and expanded The Amy Vanderbilt Complete Book of Etiquette, to a roomful of tableware manufacturers and merchandisers, her husband said to her, “My God! Who would want to hear you at this hour?” Miss Baldridge, a large, pink-faced woman, said this with such comic skill that the whole roomful of tableware manufacturers and merchandisers laughed extremely hard. Miss Baldridge told them that she went to Vassar, and received a B.A., but the funny thing about going to college was that when she graduated she couldn’t type, she couldn’t take shorthand, and she couldn’t file. The roomful of tableware manufacturers and merchandisers let that pass. Then, said Miss Baldridge, she went to work for Ambassador David Bruce and his wife, Evangeline, at the United States Embassy in Paris. Evangeline Bruce, she said, was an incredible woman, who could speak seven languages by the time she
was seventeen, cared very much about how a table looked, and would always take care of the table setting herself. But then once, for some reason or other, Miss Baldridge had to take care of the table setting all by herself. At this particular dinner, there were more men than women, so some of the men had to be seated next to each other. Well, when they all sat down, it turned out that Miss Baldridge had seated one of the top ambassadors next to his wife’s lover, and, because the ambassador and his wife and his wife’s lover were an open secret, everybody at the dinner almost passed out. And so did the roomful of tableware manufacturers and merchandisers; again they laughed extremely hard. When something like this happens, she said, you don’t cry about it, because then it only gets worse. After that, she told about working for Ambassadress Clare Boothe Luce, in Italy. This was soon after the Second World War, and what an experience that was! The Italians were so baroque, the dollar was tops, and the Luces were wonderful. Miss Baldridge, on the other hand, had her problems. There was the time she introduced the Pakistani Ambassador to a party of Italians as the Indian Ambassador. That didn’t go down too well with the Pakistani Ambassador, naturally, but it got a big laugh from the roomful of tableware manufacturers and merchandisers. And the time when, for the first dinner she organized, everything was white—everything: the dishes, the soup, the wine. It wasn’t funny then, but it got a big laugh now. And the time she served some Mormons a dinner they couldn’t eat: the soup had sherry in it, and the fish had been cooked in white wine, the meat in red
wine, the dessert in cognac. It wasn’t funny then, but it was sidesplitting now. Winding up, Miss Baldridge told about working for Tiffany’s, and how once, for a display, she ordered some exotic birds, and how they escaped from their cage, causing near-havoc on the third floor, which was filled with fine crystal and china. For that, the roomful of tableware manufacturers and merchandisers had lots of sharp intakes of breath. Miss Baldridge told about working in the White House for Mrs. Jacqueline Kennedy, and what a great decorator and restorer Mrs. Kennedy was, and how conscious of the tableware she was. The roomful of tableware manufacturers and merchandisers emitted some “Ah!”s. Then Miss Baldridge said that it was a wonderful world and an affirmative world, and the roomful of tableware manufacturers and merchandisers applauded wildly, as if they were surprised and grateful that someone could feel that way after a life filled with table settings.
—January 26, 1981