I look straight past most of it. In the contents of my cabinets and closets, it seems that old revelation has changed since the pandemic. Recently, it's less "This is why we can't have nice things," and more "This is why we don't need nice things."
Why put out the cute guest towels when there won't be guests? Why drink wine (alone) out of a goblet when it tastes the same from a (dishwasher-safe) tumbler? Why even have pants that don't have elastic around the waist?
I'm not what you'd call fancy, nor am I necessarily complaining. I like my well-worn linens, recycled stadium cups, and fleece joggers. And I don't plan on purging my space of the things that have been indefinitely shelved.
I'm just... making an observation. But a few weeks ago, I made another one.
We were in the warm, stately Reading Room of the Charleston Library Society with 20 high-level donors (of equally high-level heart and humor) from New York. It was the signature event of the group's three-day excursion to the Holy City, which had been gilded by a stay at Hotel Bennett, a private shopping experience at Hampden Clothing, legendary local cuisine, historical tours, and a golf tournament and private concert with Needtobreathe at the Daniel Island Club. It was a robust encounter with Charleston, sparing none of the senses.
And you just don't punctuate that with a half-hearted final dinner. Particularly when it's also the culmination of the trip's philanthropic component. This group had gathered not only to refresh with some southern hospitality, but moreover to begin engagement with the critical aims of OneWorld Health. Having managed East African mission trips for this organization, I'm intimately familiar with its mission - to provide quality, affordable healthcare to people in need - and its conviction that "where you are born should not determine whether or not you have access to basic human needs." And I was honored to facilitate the connection between these generous New Yorkers and OneWorld Health, knowing how each will forever change the other.
I also sensed this was the moment to pull out all the stops. Custom designing the swankiest of events is where KLH Group knocks it out of the park, and flexing those muscles again was sure to feel sweet. Honoring the spirit of the space, we partnered with top local outfits to elevate every detail. A florist to transform the life of the space with greenery that seemed to bloom right from the center of the sprawling table. A lighting company to place the perfect arrangement of flickering candles - and cast bewitching shadows on the dignified, dark decor. A local caterer to showcase the most coveted ingredients - and skilled hands - in the Lowcountry. Music to transform the vibe, keepsake-worthy menus and quote cards, luxury transportation... every detail underscoring that, after a long year of scaling down, we indeed still have it in us to zhuzh it up.
As our elegant guests shared unrestrained laughter and hatched big-hearted plans, I looked around that stunning room and thought, "This is why we must do nice things." Even better? Doing nice things while doing really nice things. No elaborate justification or explicit permission needed. Shout it from the rooftop. Make that the posh rooftop bar. In pants that button.
