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But her husband had been behind her, and she swiftly swallowed her fears. On her third day in Washington, she entertained the John Foster Dul-leses at a sitdown dinner for 20. Within weeks her parties became the most talked about in Washington. She held a Hula-Hoop contest, sponsored a showing of 120 Dior designs. Once she invited 15 ladies over for a "pique nique au boudoir" and had Alexandre of Paris in to do their hair.
Nicole, like Jackie Kennedy, has tried wherever possible to relax the ponderous rules and practices that still turn many official parties into stupefying bores. One such practice is known as the "swivel game": the person on the left is spoken to during soup, the person on the right during fish, and so on clear through dessert.
Perhaps taking a cue from Thomas Jefferson, who put everyone at circular tables, Nicole equipped the embassy's magnificent forest-green dining room with round tables that can seat anywhere from four to 15 guests, thus creating an intimate atmosphere even with 60 people. "Ambiance" she says, "that is the important thing.* The house has to be cozy and look nice with flowers. We put on a little music, low and soft. And we have candlelight. That makes everyone look better—even the men."
Made for Sniffing. Ambiance is what the embassy has, but Nicole spent some anguished hours achieving it. She had just about finished remodeling when, in 1961, a short circuit in an elevator shaft started a three-alarm blaze that sent flames licking 30 ft. above the dormered roof. The Alphands rushed home from a dinner at the Peruvian embassy, dashed inside to save what they could. When Nicole reached up for a valuable Bonnard painting, "I felt my dress slipping away." Having entered the building in a strapless, floor-length evening gown, she emerged 15 minutes later in a trim, grey daytime number. One newspaper headlined its story: MADAME ALPHAND CHANGES ATTIRE FOR THE FIRE.
Nicole finally finished remodeling last June. The building, purchased from Mining Engineer John Hays Hammond in 1936 for $450,000, once was like a dark, heavy-timbered English manor house inside. Now everything has a light, airy look. Flowers are everywhere. In the entrance hall hangs a huge Gobelin tapestry. A Matisse still life in brilliant blue-greens and yellows dominates the Empire Room. There are Porthault linens, Baccarat crystal, Lapar silver, blue and gold Sevres china, phalanxes of bisque Sèvres nymphs and cherubs. The crowning touch: six 18th century panels from Le Petit Trianon at Versailles, around which Nicole built the dining room.
The remodeled embassy is Nicole's creation—but the wine cellar is strictly Hervé's. In a 20-by-12-ft. bin whose temperature is always kept at 60° F., he has a collection of 1,500 bottles. He is strong on reds—Château Lafite-Rothschild '54, a rare Chambertin '47, Gorton Clos du Roi '57—but a trifle weak on the whites, though even in that category he boasts an Alsatian Riesling Gran Cru '59. And then there is an Alfred Norton '14 cognac that sends Chef Bell into ecstasies. "It is a sin to drink it," says he. "It is made for sniffing."