The Party Wardrobe

There was a time when "we're not dressing" meant "black tie instead of white".  Now if you clue your guests this way, they're as likely to turn up in undress-blue-jeans as in dinner-jackets.  More likely they will call confused and wonder what kind of party you are hosting.

As a host,  you have no problem of deciding what to wear.  You issued the invitations - and if the clothes were to be different than the usual clothes for your community for that time of the day and year, you said so.

In a word, wear what your guest expect you to wear.  Don't embarrass them by outdressing them; they may feel that they haven't given your party the importance you expected it to have.  But don't under-dress, or you imply a lack of effort for a party they took quite seriously.

You know your community - and the clothing for Friday night chez vous are quite different in New York City than they are, say, in Southern California.  (Who said, "Thank goodness!")

And you know your friends.  If a particular, successful manufacturer hates and resents white shirts and ties in off-business hours, tell his wife when you invite him to anything but your Opera Ball, "Have Bo wear a sports shirt, of course," and follow the cue yourself.  On the other hand, you work a hardship when you suggest a sports jacket to an Eastern-bred city-ite who feels it disrespectful to his hostess (albeit a suburban one) to appear for dinner in less than a dark suit and white shirt.

The best way to out-guess both sides of this problem is the way these gentlemen dress when they entertain at home.  And the obvious moral, if you want both to be comfortable, is - never invite them to the same dinner-party.

Entertain the Non-drinkers

To entertain non-drinkers, all you need is a fruit juice for cocktail-time, a soft drink for hard-drinking time.  But to be a perfect host, you need some rare-to-come by think equipment.

Think how YOU would feel if while on the wagon, you were constantly urged to have "just one."  As a host, never make a point of abstinence.  Include "tomato juice" on the list you rattle off in your "What'll you have?" speech.  Serve them in glasses no different from those of the other guest.  So the non-drinker will know, at the onset, that their "foibles" are not going to inconvenience you.  Restrain yourself from the I-wish-I-had-your-courage false admiration.  In other words, leave alone!
For the special case, ulcers, for instance, milk is usually in order.  Just plain milk, without a dash of sympathy.  A glass of milk on a tray of martinis can seldom enter the room without bringing forth the "little mother" type remarks, but if you get into the act with a dead-pan, "Here's your milk punch," at least you leave it up to the ulcerous unfortunate as to whether of not he wants to give his case history.  Even if he's hardened to the razzing, he'll appreciate your considerate try to spare him his 10,000 discussion on Ulcers and How I Got One.
Aside from fruit juices, ginger ale, cola and other soda pops, about the only classic teetotaler's tipple you might need is the:

Horse's Neck
Peel the whole rind of a lemon, in one spiraling piece.  Place it in a tumbler, with one end hanging over the top.  Add 2 cubes of ice, a dash of bitters, then fill the tumbler with ginger ale,

or the

Mom Collins
When your other guest are drinking Toms, make the same for your dry friends - leaving out the gin.