HAZELTON

If you want to give a party, for fifteen hundred people, or fifty, or two, practically anywhere except underwater (and I expect this too could be arranged), you needn’t do the cooking yourself, or find a caterer and the proper surroundings, or fuss with invitations, flowers, favors, wines and liquors, and limousines for the guests. You just hire yourself a party broker, discuss what you want done, and sit back until it is time to show up as a guest at your own party. The morning after, of course, you pay the bills—from the caterers, florists, and so on. The party broker then gets paid by them for his/her services—just as travel agents get paid, not by you, but by the airlines and hotels they book you with.

Americans have always been fond of parties, and never more so than in the Seventies. The Yellow Pages of the New York telephone book list several hundred caterers—the list takes up seven pages—as well as a number of party consultants and brokers. I went to interview one, a lady who has never advertised, does not need to, and would not do so under any circumstances. Her name is Lore Moser and she is a very pretty blonde woman with quiet, winning ways, and enormously successful in her profession. Among the parties she arranged last year were Exxon’s dinner at the Guggenheim for young American sculptors, a silver anniversary party for Hugh Hefner’s Playboy, Life magazine’s cocktail party for 525 celebrants of Alfred Eisenstaedt’s eightieth birthday, the Metropolitan Opera’s National Council dinner, Mobil Oil’s reception for the Edward the King TV series, 28 Christmas parties (for ABC, Citibank, Price Waterhouse, Columbia Records, and so forth; the guest lists ranged from 22 GM executives to 722 Wall Street brokers), and 19 weddings. These parties took place on yachts, in discos, in private clubs, in townhouses, in SoHo lofts, and even in private homes.

NH

About the Author

Nika Hazelton

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Food

New York City

If you want to give a party, for fifteen hundred people, or fifty, or two, practically anywhere except underwater (and I expect this too could be arranged), you needn’t do the cooking yourself, or find a caterer and the proper surroundings, or fuss with invitations, flowers, favors, wines and liquors, and limousines for the guests. You just hire yourself a party broker, discuss what you want done, and sit back until it is time to show up as a guest at your own party. The morning after, of course, you pay the bills—from the caterers, florists, and so on. The party broker then gets paid by them for his/her services—just as travel agents get paid, not by you, but by the airlines and hotels they book you with.

Americans have always been fond of parties, and never more so than in the Seventies. The Yellow Pages of the New York telephone book list several hundred caterers—the list takes up seven pages—as well as a number of party consultants and brokers. I went to interview one, a lady who has never advertised, does not need to, and would not do so under any circumstances. Her name is Lore Moser and she is a very pretty blonde woman with quiet, winning ways, and enormously successful in her profession. Among the parties she arranged last year were Exxon’s dinner at the Guggenheim for young American sculptors, a silver anniversary party for Hugh Hefner’s Playboy, Life magazine’s cocktail party for 525 celebrants of Alfred Eisenstaedt’s eightieth birthday, the Metropolitan Opera’s National Council dinner, Mobil Oil’s reception for the Edward the King TV series, 28 Christmas parties (for ABC, Citibank, Price Waterhouse, Columbia Records, and so forth; the guest lists ranged from 22 GM executives to 722 Wall Street brokers), and 19 weddings. These parties took place on yachts, in discos, in private clubs, in townhouses, in SoHo lofts, and even in private homes.