Much advice on how to be a good host is also applicable to party guests, so I’ve tried to avoid repeating anything from that post.
1. Never ask what you can bring
This is akin to “And when did you stop beating your wife?” in that there is no polite answer. Good manners oblige your host to reply that there’s no need for you to supply anything, when in fact they might really have appreciated a good bottle of wine. (“Red or white?” is, by contrast, a perfectly acceptable question.)
Of course, not everybody drinks, so wine is not obligatory. You could take flowers – really delightful, and certain to be remembered – or something more inventive, like an after-dinner game. If you know the host well and know what they’re making, assuming it’s that kind of thing, you could also offer to bring food. But be prepared to cater to dietary requirements, and possibly lose your Tupperware at least for a while.
Strictly speaking, the gift should be for the host rather than for the party – so there should be no expectation that you’ll be served the bottle of wine that you bring. This is because a good host will provide everything the guests need themselves (and depending on the occasion, they might have picked specific bottles to complement the food). But in reality most people are quite relaxed about this, and it’s normal to open bottles brought by guests.
2. Scoop up loners
However large or small the event, don’t leave it to the host to flit about collecting strays. If someone’s looking lonely, go and make conversation (see how to throw fantastic parties for tips on this). Find out their name and introduce them to your friends straight away. Repeat with others as necessary. This is the single most powerful way to ensure everyone around you has a wonderful time. For the less altruistically-motivated, it will also inspire deep gratitude from the host, and indeed whomever you’ve saved from isolation.
The same goes for saving people from boors (or creeps), making conversation topics more accessible, and introducing people you already know to each other.
3. Arrive at the right time
For every additional guest, arrive two minutes later.
Example 1: you are invited to a dinner party at 7pm, and expect that you are one of five guests. Arrive at 7.10pm.
Example 2: you are invited to a house party at 8pm, and expect that you are one of 40 guests. Arrive at 9.20pm.
This is a rule I’ve just made up. It works, however, because pressure on the host is generally proportional to the number of attendees. Obviously, exceptions apply when timings are dictated by an external factor, such as a restaurant booking or venue rule, but for self-hosted gatherings then this should keep you true.
The reason you shouldn’t arrive at precisely the appointed hour is that your host might be running late, and will be embarrassed if you turn up whilst they’re still hoovering or brushing their teeth. I have certainly breathed tremendous sighs of relief upon realising that the person at the door was dropping off drinks and not expecting to be entertained.
But don’t be much later than this. If it’s a dinner party, throwing off food timings is deeply unhelpful, and if it’s anything else then it’s polite to be earlyish so you can help fill the space, reassure your host that they do indeed have friends, and generally get conversation going.
4. Leave well
If the host is yawning, doing proper clearing up (and definitely if they’re washing up), or has mentioned that they’re tired, it’s time to go. Don’t say you’re leaving and then stay another half-hour; just collect your stuff, thank your host for a great time, and take your leave.
It’s ok to leave earlier in the evening too (of course), but do it gracefully. Don’t make a big deal of your departure if you’re leaving before most people, because you might encourage others who would otherwise have stayed. A French exit is perfectly acceptable at larger gatherings, but do text the host to thank them and say that you had a good time.
Similarly, there’s nothing wrong with leaving one party to go to another, as long as you’re upfront about this from the outset. Being honest and apologetic is very unlikely to offend – it’s perfectly normal for plans to clash – but being cagey and evasive probably will.
5. Do the practical stuff too
The perfect guest serves a similar social role to the host, but practicalities also matter. Don’t offer to help with clearing plates between courses or tidying beer cans, just crack on. Your host will intervene if they’d genuinely prefer that you relaxed. If they let you do it, they’re probably very grateful. And clearing stuff as you go (finished with your bottle? Bin it! Almost nobody does this) is always better than helping with a big end-of-night tidy.
6. Make your personal requirements clear in advance
If you’re not absolutely, 100% sure that your host knows and will remember that you’re pescatarian, remind them at least a week in advance. The same is true for allergies and, if you really must insist upon them, strong food preferences. But as an adult, it’s polite to learn to eat stuff you don’t like. (I’m a vegan who grew up refusing to touch wet food, so my lack of sympathy is earned. Have a glass of wine and grow up.)
If you’re served something you actually can’t eat, be as apologetic and discreet about it as possible. Your host will already be mortified; don’t make their job harder.
In general, the fewer demands you can make the better. This goes double if you don’t know your host well or if it’s a big event, because they’ll probably be fielding dozens of other enquiries too. If you need to ask them something, do it publicly, so their response is visible to everyone and other people don’t have to repeat your question. This also saves you both all the back-and-forth that goes along with side-conversations. Your goal is to make their life easier.
7. Reciprocate
It isn’t necessarily expected, but it is always appreciated. Hosting is expensive, time-consuming, and tiring, so doing it for your friends is a wonderful gift. The single best way to show that you appreciate it is by returning the favour.
If you haven’t hosted many dinner parties/house parties/drinks/games nights/etc before, you might not realise how much work goes into a good one: finding a suitable date, negotiating with flatmates or partners, managing guests and their requirements, cleaning and tidying, arranging and paying for food and drink, cooking, making sure everyone has a great time, cleaning and tidying all over again… etc. So be generous, and give back!
Equally, if you’ve been to a really good event, you might be worried that your own can’t compete. Don’t worry: nobody is judging you because your cooking isn’t restaurant-quality (thank goodness). It really is the effort that counts. I once went over to a friend’s with some trepidation, knowing only that (a) he was cooking; (b) his speciality had historically been something called Meat Casserole, whose ingredients I truly cannot begin to describe. On this occasion, however, it turned out that he’d made a beautiful curry from scratch. It wasn’t showy haute cuisine, but it was delicious and showed that he’d gone to real trouble. I’ll always remember it.
8. Don’t do anything obviously rude
It would feel remiss not to include some of the basics, so this is a brief gesture in that direction. Don’t bring uninvited plus-ones without asking, don’t assume your partner is invariably also welcome, don’t ask why someone else isn’t invited (unless you know the host very well and are sure it’s an oversight). Don’t complain or criticise stuff where anyone can hear you. Don’t start arguments and try not to break things.
Really, this section feels superfluous: I often invite strangers to events, and they’re invariably so lovely and polite and thoughtful that assuming anyone would be otherwise feels rather graceless. But far be it from me to avoid stating the obvious. Be a delight to host and the invitations will flow!