Diner en Blanc: the Polarizing Fantasy

It's that time of year again. 4,500 Philadelphians are decked out in white, with picnic baskets full of white place settings and table linens, white tables and chairs in tow. 25,000 runner-ups are sitting at home plotting their way into next year's event. And more than a million more of us are looking for a catapult and 10,000 rotten tomatoes. 

Diner en Blanc, the muti-continent traveling flash mob that charges almost $40 a head to BYO-Everything, has a guest list and dress-code more tediously contrived than a fetish party at the White House. And it's insanely popular. 

So what is it about this simple dinner that has managed to attract so much criticism? Monica Weymouth gives the question a go in a charmingly diplomatic rant on PhillyMag.com, resigning herself to the notion that there are two types of people: those who like Diner en Blanc, and those who - politely put - don't.

But it's certainly more than that. In a Philly.com article, Samantha Melamed interviewed the event's two planners, Natanya DiBona and Kayli Moran. Both are quick to point out that, like parades and other street festivals, Diner en Blanc isn't really that structurally unique. Private organizations routinely use public spaces for events, and once the space is reserved, they're relatively free to operate it however they see fit within reason.

And there is certainly nothing unreasonable about Diner en Blanc, at least if we look at it as a dryly bureaucratic use of public space. 

For those who still have a bad taste lingering in your mouth - myself included - it doesn't just boil down to envy or jealousy. That's too easy. And really, what is there to be envious of? This isn't an invite-only event catering to the region's Who's Who. It's simply a dull circuit party. If you have a tech-savvy teenager who knows how to land Taylor Swift tickets, you can probably get a pass into next year's Diner en Blanc if you move quickly enough.

The divide between the enamored and the disdained comes down to the two simple things Weymouth was talking about: those who love it and those who hate it. Some people coast through life enjoying simplistic beauty, cohesion, and have a knack for matching their clothing to the wallpaper. They host designer birthday parties for toddlers too young to remember how well baby-blue and brown go together. They're educated, healthy, shop at Whole Foods, and move to the Gayborhood when it's safe enough for a Target. They use "brunch" as a verb, vote a solid Hillary, and probably have a stick-figure family on the back of their hybrid. 

They're good people. And while they may run to Home Goods the second their bichon spills merlot on their white sofa, they don't ruffle any feathers. 

But the rest of us are plagued with a nagging question: Why? We might not like discourse, but we appreciate and understand it as a way of life. And those who embrace Diner en Blanc are our nemeses. When we see something as simplistic as Diner en Blanc, we see couple's therapy and a whole lot of Xanax. To us, nothing can be that perfect. Adults don't have tea parties with stuffed animals unless they're struggling with something. 

We need to understand why things happen, purpose, progress. Does Diner en Blanc raise money for a charity? No. Are guests being served a fine dinner from a renowned local chef? No. Is there any historical significance to the event? No. Not unless you consider a French picnic historic. Did I mention that the first picnic took place in 1988, the same year Critters 2 came out? So, not exactly Toulouse Lautrec.

It serves no purpose. But maybe it can?

Despite its hefty cover charge, lack of any dinner but the one in your picnic basket, and Diner en Blanc's convoluted mission, perhaps it does have a purpose. If you look past its most basic guests and planners, Diner en Blanc does offer an opportunity for a very unique experience, at least for those who embrace it as something unique. 

Many Philadelphians continues to struggle in a lot of ways. While Diner en Blanc may have an exclusively short guest list, the list isn't exclusionary. There are undoubtedly a few guests who got a golden ticket and then saved up for the fantasy. For those few guests, Diner en Blanc offers a Cinderella story: one night to escape Philadelphia's cynical reality and pretend to be someone, somewhere else. 

Maybe there's nothing wrong with a grown-up tea party.

With all the negativity in the world, why look at Diner en Blanc as one more reason to bitch about traffic? Perhaps we should all be putting on our Sunday best, packing an Igloo cooler with a few Wawa sandwiches, and enjoying lunch with our friends and family in Fairmount Park this weekend, having our own fantasy, our own Diner en Blanc. 

Instead of cynically bemoaning a harmless event, maybe we should be taking a page from something that happens once a year and asking what it could mean to us every day. Did you have lunch in your corporate cafeteria today, or did you pack some prosciutto and a baguette to take in the breathtaking views of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and City Hall from Logan Square or Dilworth Park? Did you spend your break at Taco Bell, Facebook-complaining about the easily-ignorable Candy Crush invites from an aunt who doesn't know any better, or did you soak up the tiny streets of Society Hill?

Despite Diner en Blanc's tedious laundry list of rules, it's a simplistic event that asks us to look at our surroundings and enjoy our lives for no other reason than the fact that we have one. If we cynics have a problem with the way 4,500 Philadelphians choose to enjoy their Thursday nights, we should probably ask ourselves, how are we choosing to enjoy ours? Because I'm betting it has something to do with frozen pizza and Netflix. 

Dîner en Noir

If you don't know what it is, Dîner en Blanc is a for-profit pop-up dinner that takes tediousness to new levels. Dating all the way back to the year Critters 2 came out, Dîner en Blanc commemorates the day François Pasquier found his friends in a park by asking them to wear white.

It's an event that has spread throughout the world, but unlike most public dinners that require a city's resources, Dîner en Blanc contributes nothing to society but a smug sense of satisfaction in those lucky enough to pay for the BYO-Everything event, solely profiting a team of event planners.

Chris Nowaczyk, a cancer researcher at the University of Pennsylvania, was fed up with the process of finding a table at the who-you-know event and decided to create his own. But Nowaczyk took it one step further when he created his Dîner en Noir, he gave it purpose. Unlike Dîner en Blanc, Dîner en Noir's proceeds will be donated to Philabundance. 

The event is limited to 250 guests. But it won't be limited to connected guests like Dîner en Blanc. Dîner en Noir is only limited to those quick enough to purchase a ticket. Guests who can enjoy a meal knowing that someone less fortunate will enjoy one of their own.

Dîner en Noir

Diner en Blanc: Tradition or...?

A little over a year ago, the recently opened Barnes Museum held a gala for the city's elite. For $1500, the city's wealthy art appreciators dined on lamb and drank champagne outside an institution that holds some of the world's most valuable artwork.

While attendees feasted and canoodled amid the landscaped Parkway in ball gowns and tuxedos, Occupy Philly staged a protest of sorts across the street, feeding the city's homeless in plain sight of the rich who were mixing and mingling.

Whatever you think of the Barnes Museum, their extravagant gala, or Occupy Philly, the one thing that all of those involved share was a message and a cause they believe in. 

No one paid $1500 for a meal. Those privileged enough to attend the Barnes Gala did so out of a civic sense of pride, celebrating the end of a long fought battle to bring the museum to the city.

Likewise, Occupy Philly wasn't serving bologna sandwiches, but sending a message to those with means that a very real problem exists in the city beyond the hallowed halls adorning their artwork.

Both events took place side by side, as uneventfully as planned.

While the Barnes Museum made a handsome chunk of change to help maintain its priceless collection, wealthy philanthropists figuratively shook hands with the city's less fortunate.

Both had a cause, and in that, both succeeded.

Often these events are mundane on the surface, but the fulfillment comes from knowing that you participated in a cause you strongly believe in. Anyone on 20th Street that night walked away knowing they did something good.

I'm certainly not suggesting that everyone, rich or poor, spend all of their time advocating for a better world. It's exhausting, and too much can even contribute to a sense of self righteousness. 

Treat yourself.

The city hosts plenty of public events like Welcome America! and our annual New Years Parade. They cost the city money, profit their sponsors, and they make the city an exciting place to live.

Whether you're at the Barnes Gala, an Occupy protest, or Welcome America!, no one can really ask, "why?" Charitable events fund organizations that need it, or at the very least support a cause that attendees believe in, and public celebrations drive tourism and are a good time for everyone. 

But occasionally an event comes along that culminates in nothing more than the indignant end result of too much charity, without actually providing any.

I'm talking of course, about the BYO everything Diner en Blanc. 

Why? 

Well, you can ask that simple word until the end of time and no one will give you an answer. 

With an inside invite, you too can pretend like you're one of those philanthropists outside the Barnes Museum without actually doing anything...except for bringing your own dinner, wine, and adhering to the most tedious dress code this side of a fetish party. 

Remember when Barbara Streisand brought her own white microphone to the Opera show? Imagine that microphone personified as 2500 Philadelphians who desperately want to feel special.

What is Diner En Blanc? Well it's a flash mob with a cover charge. Invitees show up in white with picnic baskets and chairs and dine amid our city's historic landmarks. Organized by Diner En Blanc International, it's an event that takes place yearly in many cities around the world.

But it doesn't exist for any reason other than that it exists. What's most deplorable about Diner en Blanc is that it specifically excuses its complete lack of philanthropy as part of its tradition. It clearly states, "There are no sponsors, no political or ideological agendas."

Of course that statement is immediately false in that Diner en Blanc International is a profitable organization that is itself, the sponsor. For the privilege of shelling out roughly $30 a head (or $60 for two, since couples are required), you too can throw money at an organization that straps the resources of your local municipality to profit a collection of event planners.

When a city as broke as Philadelphia is asked to close Logan Square for a bunch of invite-only d-bags and their sense of self righteousness, it's kind of a slap in the face.

Ironically Diner en Blanc touts itself as a collection of "friends" who enjoy good food without actually providing any. Yep, Diner En Blanc is entirely BYO.

The whole premise is to feel exclusive. Of course exclusivity for its own sake means nothing, something the attendees don't seem to get. Or maybe they do. Maybe they're just bad people. Maybe they're the kind of people who walked away from the The Great Gatsby thinking, "wow, what an awesome party."

While those charitably connected routinely attend events knowing exactly what attire is appropriate, Diner en Blanc specifies a laundry list of adjectives and seems predominantly focused on the phrase, "astonished looks from passersby." 

In that regard it is a flash mob, but stripped of its fun and spontaneity...and freeness. The tediously laughable dress code only proves that people who use the words "classy" and "elegant" aren't.

"...the greatest decorum, elegance, and etiquette...a mass 'chic picnic'..."

"...a love of beauty and good taste."

"...the elegance and glamour of court society..."

"...a picnic basket comprised of quality menu items and china dinner service...be dressed elegantly....stylish and denotes taste."

"...no disruptions...except for the occasional amazed and astonished looks from passersby at the scene unfolding before them. And we, as they, wonder whether it's all not a dream..."

In other words:

"Do you like steak? Try eating it, under a chandelier." 

Attending galas can be a good time, and sure a part of that is self satisfying. When someone walks up to an event and asks, "What is this for?" you can plead your cause or ask them to join you.

What do these people say?

Well, most will tell you its a standing tradition dating from France that has spread around the globe. While that's true, what most likely don't know is that it's a tradition dating from 1988.
  
Sometime between gym class, blasting Depeche Mode from my '82 Volvo, and bagging groceries at Food Lion, François Pasquier was looking for his friends in Bois de Boulogne.

How he found them? He told them to wear white.

Sure, that's cute. But it's not quite as romantic knowing that the tradition dates no earlier than the year Critters 2 came out.