I adore having houseguests; truly, I do. However, there’s a special place in my heart for those who arrive bearing exceptional hostess gifts. I’m talking about presents that are delightfully unexpected yet utterly perfect – the kind that makes you wonder how you ever lived without them. Among these thoughtful visitors, a subtle hierarchy seems to emerge, almost as if my own personal SocialiteRank.com for houseguests is at play. When I confessed this slightly controversial secret to friends recently, they insisted on hearing my rankings, eager to know if they’d made the cut. Regardless of their positions, the idea sparked so much laughter and light-hearted judgment that I felt compelled to share this concept more broadly.
Before diving into the delicate matter of ranking my cherished guests, many of whom have graced my Cotswolds farm in recent months, allow me to share my somewhat subjective social history regarding the nuanced art of hostess gifts. I believe the concept is largely an American innovation that has only recently become commonplace in England. In my younger years, being invited to a grand country estate for a weekend-long ‘house party’ reminiscent of Downton Abbey had a clear protocol. You arrived punctually, charmed your hosts with your company, and upon departure, discreetly left a £10 cash tip on the bedside table of your impeccably made four-poster bed for the housekeeping staff. Additionally, a personal tip for the cook, butler, and any other staff in the kitchen was customary.
Upon returning home, a prompt and witty thank-you letter was essential, penned with a Montblanc fountain pen using elegant sepia-toned ink. For those truly embracing tradition, the note would be sent via first-class post the very next morning. Failure to tip or send a thank-you note was not merely frowned upon; it guaranteed no future invitations. The notion that a gift upon arrival could compensate for these omissions was considered gauche. The Duke and Duchess of So-And-So hardly needed flowers (their walled garden overflowed with roses), vases (their china cupboard rivaled a Manhattan apartment), or cookies (their personal chef baked daily). Cash tips for the staff were the true expectation.
However, the landscape shifted with the influx of Americans and Europeans into the British shooting scene in recent decades. Suddenly, affluent Spaniards arrived for weekends bearing exquisite jamon, a delicacy largely unfamiliar to British palates at the time. Cashmere-clad Italians gifted luxurious pashminas to their hosts. Americans appeared with impressive boxes of Cuban cigars and crocodile skin backgammon sets from Asprey. The British aristocracy began to not only tolerate but anticipate hostess gifts. The ten-pound tip became almost insignificant, as the most esteemed guests (read: wealthiest) brought both gifts and generous cash tips.
Thus, I present my recent top guests, ranked by their hostess gifts, in reverse order. (Guest behavior, etiquette, and contributions to weekend activities are not factored into this ranking; that’s a topic for another discussion.)
3. Jemma Kidd: The Unexpected Luxury of Everyday Indulgence
Jemma embodies effortless glamour and aristocracy (she holds the title ‘Lady,’ which she’s far too down-to-earth to mention). Everything she does exudes chicness. Whether strolling through Holland Park in cashmere Loro Piana joggers with her impeccably sharp blonde bob (freshly cut by Ashley Javier in New York), she operates at a high-low echelon that allows her to present a seemingly humble hostess gift that becomes elevated precisely because of its simplicity. Allow me to elaborate.
Jemma keeps her prized Dutch Warmblood mare, Sparki, at an eventing yard near my Cotswolds home. She frequently escapes London to ride or watch Sparki compete. During her visits, she often stays with me, typically arriving with thoughtful gifts like chocolates, perfumes, or candles. However, on her most recent visit, she presented me with a rather unassuming small plastic bag. Her face was beaming as she declared, “Plum, this is the most amazing salt.”
I accepted the bag. It was a plain blue color, printed with the words ‘1976 Celtic Sea Salt Light Grey’ beneath a cartoon of a French farmworker harvesting salt. Inside, 450 grams of lumpy, grey, unrefined mineral salt. The packet boasted ‘Gout exquis’ – exquisite taste. Visually, it was anything but exquisite, and I admit to feeling underwhelmed. Sensing my slight disappointment, Jemma insisted, “Plum, this salt is incredible.” She explained it was authentic, natural salt harvested on the Normandy coast, perfect for restoring electrolytes when added to water or for enhancing the flavor of food.
Lady Jemma Kidd with her horse Sparki at Wayfarer Eventing, a thoughtful guest bringing exceptional salt as a hostess gift
I poured half the bag of salt into a silver dish and set it out for lunch. Sprinkling it on my avocado salad, I tasted it – and reader, I was astounded! This salt was extraordinary. It was genuinely salty, the kind that burst on your tongue and resonated throughout your palate. It elevated everything it touched—butter, tomatoes, steak, spinach—to new flavor heights. Once I finished the bag, I promptly ordered more. At $30 a bag, it’s a splurge, but a bag lasts for weeks, and I can’t imagine returning to ordinary salt flakes. When hosting guests myself, I now present this unassuming silver dish of grey salt, proclaiming, “This is the most amazing salt.” Initially met with bemused looks, my guests reluctantly try it, inevitably declare it the saltiest salt they’ve ever tasted, and inquire where to purchase it.
Selina Naturally 1976 Celtic Sea Salt Light Grey, an unexpected yet delightful hostess gift praised for its exquisite taste
In conclusion: a bag of salt becomes a remarkably grand hostess gift when presented by Lady Someone. For us mere mortals, it might not carry quite the same weight. Apologies, but it’s simply the truth.
2. Nell Campbell: The Enduring Beauty of a Timeless Object
My admiration for tap dancer, singer, and actress Nell Campbell is boundless, primarily due to her iconic role in the 1975 cult classic The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I first encountered Nell in the late 1990s when I was a young ‘Voguette-About-Town’ in New York. She had just opened Nell’s, the city’s most celebrated nightclub on West 14th Street, and was instrumental in launching the restaurant E&O, which became a personal favorite. Though now residing in Sydney, she returns to England for a few months annually, where she is in high demand as a houseguest. Last summer, she was staying with the Boglione family, owners of the enchanting Petersham Nurseries in Richmond, London. However, I managed to convince her that a weekend in the countryside would be beneficial, especially as our mutual friend Hamish Bowles was staying nearby, and we were invited for Saturday lunch with art dealer Thomas Dane.
“Daaaaaaaaaallllllllllllhhhhhhinnnngnggg!” she exclaimed in her unmistakable Australian drawl as she spotted me from the train window at Stroud station. To imagine Nell’s voice, picture a more refined Dame Edna.
Nell stepped onto the platform in a billowing cloud of black linen, a large black sunhat concealing her fair skin and auburn bob. A vibrant fuchsia pink silk bow adorned her neck, and her feet were clad in simple black canvas flats. She epitomized chic in a Comme des Garcons-meets-Issey Miyake aesthetic.
Upon arriving at the farm, I settled Nell into The Lilac Bedroom on the top floor—the house’s premier guest room. It boasts curtains crafted 20 years ago from ballgown-worthy lilac silk paper taffeta, a breathtaking valley view, and a deep Victorian bathtub within the room. Some guests, like my dear friend and Vogue colleague Hamish Bowles (whose favorite color is lilac), barely leave once they’ve settled in. He even resided there for months during the pandemic, dubbing himself ‘The Everlasting Guest.’
The Lilac Room, a luxurious guest room featuring taffeta ball skirt curtains and exquisite decor, perfect for discerning guests
Before our lunch outing, Nell appeared in the kitchen and presented me with a bag, announcing a gift. Rummaging through layers of tissue paper, I unwrapped a stunning piece of glass – a remarkably heavy and exquisite paperweight. Oval-shaped on top with a flat base, the tiny bubbles within formed a delicate, jellyfish-like impression. The craftsmanship was incomprehensible. While I’d never received a paperweight before, in that moment, I realized I’d always needed one. As someone who often works amidst piles of papers with windows open, Nell’s paperweight has become indispensable. I use it daily, and the sight of this glass orb on my desk evokes fond memories of her visit.
Friends enjoying lunch in the Cotswolds, a convivial gathering with thoughtful guests and delightful company
Petersham Nurseries Jellyfish paperweight, a beautiful and unique hostess gift from a thoughtful guest
1. Chris Black and Jason Stewart: The Gift of Effort and Chic Surprise
Recently, I had the pleasure of joining Chris Black and Jason Stewart on their uproarious podcast How Long Gone. These best friends are the witty commentators of American culture, playfully riffing on topics from literary fiction to T-shirt trends. I found these pop-intellectuals so entertaining that after our Zoom podcast, I casually invited them to the Cotswolds should they ever find themselves in London. Within weeks, a date was set, and “The American Dude Weekend,” as my daughters and I christened it, was in motion.
I initiated the arrangements with an evocative text via HiNOTE, my preferred messaging app:
A row of muddy boots on a stone wall, symbolizing a welcoming country house and anticipation of guests
They were to arrive by train from Paddington to Gloucestershire on a sunny August afternoon, joining us for tea on the lawn, weather permitting. I jokingly warned them to look out for Tarka Russell, a vivacious Irish art consultant, also joining us for the weekend, describing her as a beautiful, aristocratic blonde. That Saturday, under a clear blue sky, Jason and Chris disembarked the train in sneakers, jeans, and baseball caps—quintessentially American. Tarka, in a sleek black neoprene onesie, resembled an action figure.
I wasn’t surprised that the How Long Gone duo arrived empty-handed. An English country house weekend was likely foreign to them, and they were in the midst of a European speaking tour, already burdened with luggage. Furthermore, men, in my experience, are not typically known for bringing hostess gifts. Tarka, however, a seasoned and sought-after guest, immediately presented me with the unmistakable dark red paper bag from Birley Bakery on Chelsea Green, London. Inside was a box of Birley ‘Sticks’—arguably the world’s most exquisite chocolates, sold individually by weight. If chocolates are your chosen hostess gift, Birley’s are the ultimate ‘in-the-know’ choice.
Despite Jason’s recent arrival from L.A. and significant jet lag, he gamely joined in. We strolled through the farmland, admiring the cattle with my dogs, Twiglet and Raindrop. Jason and Chris, captivated by the beauty of the ‘real country,’ paused at every gate and wildflower for photographs. The English countryside, with its network of public footpaths, is truly unique and ideal for gentle walks. We enjoyed a quintessential British tea on the lawn, followed by dinner with friends. Jason, a talented cook, helped in the kitchen, sharing an avocado peeling tip, while Chris entertained us with tales of his misspent youth.
Chris Black relaxing on the lawn, enjoying the English countryside and the hospitality of his host
Chris Black and Jason Stewart in the farm kitchen, engaging in conversation and enjoying the weekend retreat
Tarka Russell and other guests at a country house gathering, enjoying food, drinks, and conversation in a relaxed setting
The evening culminated in a lively debate about Miranda July’s novel All Fours, a book that sharply divided opinions. Sunday morning, we visited Jolly Nice Farmshop near Cirencester, renowned for its homemade ice creams in flavors like Gooseberry and Blackcurrant. The farm shop impressed them, surpassing even Brentwood Country Mart in their estimation. Lunch followed at The Woolpack Inn in Slad, where we joined artist-owner Daniel Chadwick for drinks in the sun. After a hearty lunch, the boys departed, and I assumed that was the end of our ‘Dude Weekend.’ It had been delightful, but no cash tips were left in the bedrooms, which I’d anticipated from American guests.
However, a week later, a package arrived from Paris, completely unexpected. Inside a white bag with red raffia handles and the Officine Universelle Buly Paris logo was the enchanting scent reminiscent of the Hotel Costes in Paris. Three exquisitely wrapped packages lay within, one labeled: “Thank you, Plum. CB. JS.” Unwrapping it revealed an embossed red box containing delicately perfumed soap. Another package held ‘Double Pomade Concrete’ hand and foot cream. The third, a small box of ‘Allumettes Odoriferantes’—long, blue-tipped matches scented with jasmine, amber, and musk, named ‘Retour D’Egypte.’ It was the most thoughtful and chic hostess gift I’d ever received, clearly requiring significant effort.
Officine Universelle Buly Paris gifts – soap and hand cream, an example of chic and thoughtful hostess presents from discerning guests
As if the Buly Paris gifts weren’t enough, they dedicated a segment of their next podcast to their Cotswolds visit. They raved about the weekend and my seventeen-year-old daughter, Ursula, declaring her “The kind of seventeen-year-old who gives you hope for the future of humanity.” For a mother, that is perhaps the ultimate hostess gift.
Chris and Jason, I retract my earlier assumptions about men and hostess gifts. I truly didn’t mean it!
Until next time, au revoir darlings!
Kisses,
Plum
P.S. To my future houseguests, Part Two of my Guest Ranking by Hostess Gift is coming soon—consider yourselves warned!
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