How to promote a party
First, you announce that you are throwing a party, and then two months later you throw a party. That’s the skeleton. Now you have to fill in the skeleton. That is why this text.
First, you have to create an elevator pitch for the party. You do so, and then you spend seven years refining it. Eventually, you settle on “It’s for my dog’s adoption anniversary. I make enough Italian food to kill you, and then I feed him a sous vide filet mignon.” You know this works when everyone who hears this bursts out laughing. The party should be hilarious and kind of dumb, but still a party. One goes there and parties. One knows what to do.
The initial invite should make it clear how important the party is. Life is fleeting is a good sell. Your dog went blind is better. Really, though, the best is to live by example. If you are cooking for 50, you need to start by cooking for 1, then 4, then 8, then 12. You learn. You figure out how to reflect the earth’s gifts back to others. You learn how to find good stuff, and not screw it up. This takes 20 years. Then you throw a party and invite people to it.
You invite everyone, ever. You write the link to your party invite on torn-off pieces of paper and hand it to your yoga instructor, your barber, your bartenders. You post daily about your preparations, from sourcing to reflections on your dog’s excellence. When people ask you how you have been doing, you always reply that you are preparing food for a party, and the party is going to be large and they should attend it. This automatically makes you interesting, and it automatically makes them feel appreciated.
People sometimes ask you how many people have RSVP’d, and how many people you have invited. You have lost count because you are not counting. Hundreds. The whole neighborhood. The metro area. Earth. You are now inviting aliens, across space & time. You are inviting the ants that hang out under the foundation of your house. You invite 50 pounds of tomatoes, and then you cordially purée them. You invite 9 pounds of pork shoulder, and the Instacart shopper accidentally delivers their friend, which is another 9 pounds of pork shoulder.
You go through all 18 pounds of pork shoulder because you invited everyone. You go through all 20 pounds of pasta because you invited everyone. You go through all but 2 cups of butter sauce because it was so good that someone stole a tupperware from your cabinet and filled it with butter sauce to take home. On their way out, you invite everyone to next year’s party.