A Nashville Tastemaker on Table-Setting Do’s and Don’ts, Hosting Disasters, and More

Nashville’s many beautiful home decor stores are brimming with inspiration for creating memorable spaces and gatherings, along with everything you need to bring those inspirations to life. One such treasure trove is Reed Smythe & Company, tucked away on White Bridge Road and founded by Keith Smythe Meacham and the late Julia Reed.

Known around Nashville for her impeccable style and entertaining skills, Keith calls the shop “an extension of the cherished friendship” she shared with Julia — and the love that goes into curating the shop’s selection is evident. We recently got to pick Keith’s brain, and she dished on tablescaping do’s and don’ts, her go-to gifts, and even a treasured memory from her early years of marriage.

What are your essential do‘s and don’ts for table setting?

DO embrace asymmetry.

I always work in odd numbers when it comes to candles, smaller flower arrangements, and anything happening in the center of the table.

On a round table, it’s so much more pleasing to see five candlesticks arranged around a floral centerpiece than to have two standing awkwardly in the middle, lonely and predictable. And if you’re setting a longer rectangular table, use seven vases of flowers up and down the table at different heights.

Pin

DON’T be afraid to add a dash of unexpected color to your table.

I love to use Reed Smythe’s deep amethyst goblets on our green linen moire tablecloth and to add oranges and persimmons to the arrangement in the middle. 

Pin

Pin

What’s your personal favorite hostess gift to give and to receive?

If someone is hosting a party FOR me, I always send fresh flowers the next day. It’s a wonderful way to express gratitude and is much more appreciated by the hostess than something brought through the door at the moment she’s welcoming guests.

One of my favorite hostess gifts [to give] is Reed Smythe’s pretty marbled paper nesting trays. They are less expensive than a candle, and they come in handy on a desk or bedside table.

Pin

And because it’s peak summer wedding season: Let’s assume there’s no registry. What’s your go-to wedding gift?

I love giving couples a cake stand. It may seem like a quirky gift, but I received one as a wedding gift, and I bring it out for every holiday and every child’s birthday. I still remember who gave it to us because it has become such a part of the celebratory moments of our lives. Reed Smythe has some fabulous versions made in Puglia, Italy, in pretty splatterware.

Pin

Do you have any favorite recent entertaining trends?

I’m not sure it’s a trend, but I love having live music at any party, big or small. Living in Nashville makes that easy. I have Derek Pell — an incredible Nashville musician — on speed dial, and he’s able to arrange anything from a trio to a full band.

At one dinner where we were hosting out-of-town guests, I had a fiddler bless the food by playing the beautiful, plaintive Tennessee Waltz. It was a huge hit.

Pin

Our final question for Keith was about hosting disasters and lessons learned. The memory she shared was so beautifully recounted that I couldn’t bear to edit it down for length. Keep reading for a touching memory from the early years of Keith’s marriage.

Jon and I were living in New York. At the time, I hadn’t had much use for my china or the stacks of silver-plate serving dishes my parents’ friends had given us as wedding gifts. Eager to try my hand at real entertaining in our fairly small apartment, I suggested we host our first holiday party and invite everyone we knew. 

We couldn’t afford a caterer in those years, so for days, my Southern expat friends and I got together to cook all the dishes we so loved from years of attending Christmas parties at home in Mississippi. Julia Reed, who was my unofficial advisor on all things entertaining in those days — and really ever after — hooked me up with a very talented (and now award-winning) majolica artist she knew, who had a side gig organizing servers for parties where the hostess would do the cooking. 

When the day of the party arrived, I was excited and proud. The apartment was decked for the holidays with fresh greens and flowers. We’d put up our first Christmas tree and decorated it with the few ornaments we’d collected together. We splurged on champagne and rented glasses so they’d all match. I bought a new dress.

Right on time, the majolica artist arrived to get things going in the kitchen. We didn’t own a dining room table at the time, so the servers and the bartender popped up a round catering table; we covered it with a pretty damask tablecloth my grandmother had given me for my wedding, and I got out all the china I owned.

The guests arrived just as I’d imagined. The champagne flowed. Laughter rose. People were still talking about the Bill Clinton–Monica Lewinsky scandal. Friends of ours who’d never met flirted in the corners. It was all going just as I’d planned. 

Then suddenly, just as I was raising a silent little toast to myself, a loud crash sounded from the dining room. In slow motion, I turned around to see that the catering table had collapsed on one side. Its legs had not been properly locked. All my china was sliding to the floor in bits, beef tenderloin and homemade rolls following. The chafing dish of Spinach Madeline somersaulted across the dining room and splattered all over the wall in a thick muck. My beautiful buffet was a wreck.

As tears welled and I looked out at my guests in bewilderment, the wife of one of Jon’s older (and much-revered) colleagues — herself widely known as a great entertainer — put her arm around me, took me to the kitchen, and summoned the majolica artist and her crew to reset the table and clean up the mess.

I can’t quite remember exactly what she said from this distance. But it was something to this effect: “Darling, don’t fret. No one will remember the food, but they’ll remember that table falling. They’ll talk about it as one of the most fun parties they’ve ever attended.” 

I wasn’t so sure. But the next week, I arrived home from work, and waiting for me in the lobby was the most charming (and quirky) vase with a ribbon around it, made out of the shards of my broken wedding china artfully arranged to form a new pattern. Without my knowing it, the majolica artist had swept up the pieces and turned my entertaining disaster into something magical. I still use that vase to this day. And I still serve Spinach Madeline.

**********

For recipes, hosting ideas, and more, be sure to follow StyleBlueprint on Pinterest!