The 'small' party showbiz

What defines a "small" party in Delhi, an intimate gathering of friends, what a hostess might describe as "casual"? "That would be 50 heads," hazards Jessie, who ought to know. You won't find her in Page 3 pictures even though she is sometimes erroneously referred to as a "socialite". Actually, Jessie is a party organiser. Those days when you simply picked up a phone and invited friends over for potluck are over. In these designer times, guest lists need to be "managed", and even a close gathering of buddies needs to be "curated". The presence of a reclusive billionaire, some influential bureaucrats, a media personality and A-list celebrities - they've replaced what previously passed for entertainment. Belly dancers? Darling, that's so last century.

Jessie builds on the surprise factor. A celebrity DJ is a good idea, better than a "bar therapist" - that's a bartender with attitude - because most Indians lose interest in the "help" after a few tricks, though they might respond better to a chef they recognise from his TV appearances. "But it's a problem," explains Jessie, "guests like to drink till late, and a cult chef, or food-presenter, is unlikely to hang around for so long despite his steep fees." In any case, this can only work if you seat your two-score-and-more guests formally, "no buffet-shuffet", allowing the chef to make a presentation before you sink your sozzled teeth into foie-gras samosas and just enough papri-chaat to make you wonder whether they ran out of supplies in the kitchen.

Jessie sanitises all guest lists. "Absolutely no family," she insists, running a red pencil through any mamijis and taijis. BFFs get the short shrift, too. "Socialising is the new networking," she says, eliminating neighbours, childhood friends and colleagues, replacing them with a choice of names culled from her wish list for every occasion. Her "secretariat" makes the RSVP calls, and if even a few respond, you can be sure your party is on its way to being a success.

Alas, one's friends -real friends - cannot be entirely eliminated. "We're sentimental that way," Jessie is amused, but she insists they never be invited home. "Birthdays, anniversaries, festivals," Jessie says, "are best managed at nightclubs, or hotels" - and it's true that all happening spots have party zones where the music is mostly loud, there's an endless supply of deep-fried snacks and assembly-line "Indian sushi", mostly bad alcohol passed off in caipirinhas, mojitos and other cocktails, and lighting so dim you don't have to worry about what you're wearing, or whether you remembered to dye your roots, till someone pops a flashbulb in your face so you can be sure you've been captured live on Facebook's candid camera.

These are the only places the young now bother to fraternise with their in-laws. With buddies no longer welcome at home - courtesy Jessie and her tribe - bromancing is restricted to these few occasions when they can reminisce about the times they watched T20 matches together. Emerging from this is another trend. "People find it necessary to cater for large parties to show they care, when in fact they would rather be schmoozing with their hand-picked guests at home" - so when it comes to the masses versus the classes, hosts now make an announcement by missing their own soirees. "The big statement for you," Jessie confirms, "is to host but absent yourself from your own bash."