Among society’s many necessities, you now must have a deskscape.

A deskscape is not simply a business surface for work, but a place where you sit and contemplate the waking world. It reflects your individualism.

As your workplace probably doesn’t allow this sort of reverie, home is where the deskscape is.

Deskscapes aren’t piles of papers to be processed, no inboxes or out ones either. They consist of aviator chairs, stuffed ravens for the Edgar Allen Poe-inclined, curiosities, tie-dye shades and zebrawood. Chalkboard-painted walls, faux bookshelf wallpaper, antique French escritoires and gilded mirrors. They can be country chic, Scandinavian, muted, modern or midcentury, but they must be something. Rustic or industrial, they should contain a variety of objects you can toss off as brought back from far flung places or flea markets, for whether classic or custom, sustainable trees or showpiece, a desk is a statement of personal style.

Such places were once the sole province of writers where they lived out their solitude, despair and occasional creativity. Now they’re for one and all.

My own deskscape can be classified as eclectic. Above it hangs framed newspaper memorabilia and Panamanian indigenous needlework, while the desk itself is L-shaped glass and steel. On it are personal pictures, a crystal bowl that belonged to my mother now filled with tax receipts, three wooden cigar boxes and several note holders. The note holder holds a black-and-white photo of James Dean on a motorcycle and a Scotty from Star Trek greeting card that reads, “Captain, she’s gonna blow…,” a Pearl S. Buck quote about mothers plus a business card from a mariachi band.

Because you never know when you’ll need mariachis.

Patricia Gannon covers society for The Acadiana Advocate. She can be reached at

Xanadu announcement party

Finally, the secrecy is over. The Krewe of Xanadu formally announced its 26th Royalty Court — first and foremost Queen Xanadu XXVI Arline Dake and His Majesty King Xanadu XXVI Henry Burns Jr. Introduced by ball Captain Maxine Hollier, also welcomed were the 9 Royal Muses — Michelle Boudreaux, Sandy Kilgore, Sandra Booher, Robyne Vilar, Kristel Deese, Laurence Vincent, Aimee Guidry, Lisa Vidrine and Cindy Jensen, whose characters represent “Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice.” Bring on the sugar rush.

Symphony soirée

The Doubletree Hilton hosted the Acadiana Symphony Orchestra for Death by Chocolate, and some 600 devotees checked in. The event featured chocolate-inspired dishes and cocktails by Randol’s, Steamboat Inn, Indulge, Ruth’s Chris, City Club and a slew of others, as well as a couple of live confections in the lobby and some Sinatra upstairs. Co-chair John O’Meara, of the Petroleum Club, urged everyone to excess, and enjoying the decadence were Chanel lady Deborah Girouard, Charley G’s father-to-be Eli Touchet, maestro Marisuz Smolij, Sharon Moss and a gracious Kay Texada, one of the nicest society ladies in town.

Troubadours brunch

Never short on elegance, The Order of the Troubadours proved it again with their City Club Jester’s Feast honoring Richard Coeur de Lion Miles Matt and Queen Berengaria Michelle Mahtook. Ball Captain Darrellyn Burts and co-chair Denise Ingram aided the procession, while outgoing King Don Johnson said à la Alan Jackson, “If I had it to do all over, I’d do it all over again.” Dee Stanley presented keys to the city, Matt has the best beard we’ve seen this season (“I have a barber who does a good trim”) and Mahtook is as pretty as they come. What we loved: City Club’s praline chicken and being at Burts’ table with Robert Copeland, outgoing King Gabriel P.J. Voorhies and his wife, and Matt and Pat Hill. Sorry, but what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.