Whining And Dining

By Barbara Guggenheim

There’s almost nothing I like more than a good meal with friends. I may not be legendary Washington hostess Pearl Mesta , but I’ve thrown my share of luncheons, dinner parties, and cocktail soirees. Over the years I’ve noticed changes in friends’ eating habits – first it was guests waving off a warm bread basket, then eschewing rich desserts in favor of fresh fruit. I’ve always tolerated it with equanimity and maybe a twinge of pity.

But the dietary restrictions of partygoers are growing extreme.

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On Books I’ve Never Read

Everyone claims to be perusing Proust, but who are they kidding? Confessions of a literary faker.

By Barbara Guggenheim

It’s a recurring nightmare. Dewar’s calls. They’re interviewing me for a whiskey ad and everything’s going well until the final question: “What’s the last book you’ve read?” If I were telling the truth, I’d have to mention Jackie Collins. But I’m ready with a list: Hawking’s A Brief History of Time, Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past and Marshall McLuhan and Quentin Fiore’s The Medium is the Massage.

Have I read any of these? Absolutely not. Faking what you’ve read is a widespread offense, and I’m a serial offender.

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How To Start An Art Collection

By Barbara Guggenheim

Guggenheim Is a partner In the art consulting firm Guggenheim Asher Associates. Her clients Include Tom Cruise and Steven Spielberg.

If your ten-year college reunion has come and gone but that dorm-room Water Lilies poster is still with you, it’s time to get your feet wet as an art collector. Many of my clients decorate their walls with works priced at several million dollars, but you can start collecting with only a couple thousand, about the price of that Dolce & Gabbana suit you’ve had your eye on.

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Musical Chairs

Where do you rank in the social pecking order? The answer depends on where you sit.

By Barbara Guggenheim

My last dinner party had barely begun, and my actor friend (let’s call him Sam) was already unhappy. “I’m out of here right now if you don’t change my seat,” he threatened as the cocktail hour got underway. My husband, Bert, had carefully seated Sam who, God knows, needs a new film, next to a key director who might just do him some good But, no, Sam insisted on being seated next to his wife, violating age-old rules of placement, or the art of table seating. While it’s become quite common at Hollywood dinner parties to seat husbands and wives together, I find the resulting flirting deficit usually makes for dull events.

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