A proper black-tie evening is not loud. The room is dimmer than you remember, the candles lower, the music a half-step quieter than the conversation it cradles.
Round tables of eight, dressed in ivory — never stark white — with antique gold candelabra, low ivory florals, and crystal that catches every candle in the room.
Place cards, always. Hand-lettered if the budget allows; printed in copperplate ink if not. The placement is the host's most generous gesture of the night.
End with a single dessert course and a digestif. Anything more is excess; anything less is a missed close.
