Something informal, you know - just some pals, a bottle or two, and a little something to nibble on. I made my trademark crab dip (culled from a cookbook, I shit you not, of recipes from friends of Mamie Eisenhower), Mr. Muscato may be talked into one of his Egyptian delicacies, and Ermilia has a surprise or two up her sleeve. In reference to the above, I hate to admit it, but I must: Marion has looked lovelier.
The key to making a successful small party, I think, is culling the guest list. The last thing you want is guests like this one - bitch makes it 'round the room twice, gulps down four Manhattans, says something annoying to everybody, and never even takes off her coat! At least she doesn't linger.
Unlike Hedda here - now that's how to behave at a cocktail party! Have fun, wear pearls, and keep your eye on the cameraman.