Whether dreamed up by Lewis Carroll or Louis Vuitton, tea-party whimsy never ceases to give us the urge to don pastel frocks and eat finger-sandwiches. Unfortunately, a Coveteur “tea party” usually consists of jogging through the airport with a to-go cup in hand, getting seared by droplets of Tazo Chai. (Not so whimsical.)
Needless to say, whenever we spot a tea party photo-opp whilst Coveteuring, we jump at the chance (and sometimes literally—because to quote the Mad Hatter, “We’re all mad here”). Some favorite tea-time memories? The party we threw at Suzanne Rogers’s manor brought our childhood fantasies to life, complete with cushy floral chairs, pastel china, and special guests: four bubblegum-hued CHANEL purses. It’s always a beautiful day in the neighborhood with Mrs. Rogers (stop your groaning; we’re in nostalgia-mode).
Then there was the mini-Mad Hatter affair we set up using charms from Genevieve Jones’s jewelry line that brought us back to the decade of Polly Pocket and paper dolls, and the designer tea party we held during our visit to Jennifer Fisher’s humble (read: insanely perfect) abode. The guests? A pair of leopard Louboutins, a YSL mini-bag and a Prada clutch. “It’s a designer tea party!” Fisher exclaimed. A good-company trifecta, we’d say.
As everyone knows, the best part about a tea party is the dessert, especially when paired with a patterned set of dainty dishes (did visions of Marie Antoinette à la Sofia Coppola just spring to mind?). And no one knows a good cookie-plate pairing like Gaby Basora. “A few of my favorite things? Too many of my favorite things. A pitcher from a street vendor in Paris; it had a matching tiered cake plate,” the Tucker designer reminisced. “My little one and I planned to buy both after sharing a burger at Café Charlot. We were going to fill it will the cookies shaped like little men from the Hungarian pastry shop on Amsterdam Avenue and invite his friends over for cookies and milk. When we finished the cake plate was sold!”
Next time you find yourself home on Friday night ordering take-out for, uh, one (it’s okay; happens to the best of us), bust out your best china, turn the kettle on and set you best looking lady friends (read: shoes, bags, etc.) in each table setting. Just remember: Pinkies up!