Caspari's Summer Watermelon plates and napkins by British botanical illustrator Susie Ray have been a hit this season. (The Washington Post) E-Mail This Article Printer-Friendly Version

By Jura Koncius
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, July 20, 2000; Page H01

NEW YORK –– As you pitch plates and napkins out after the guests leave your next summer party, give thanks for throwaway chic. And also to a little 55-year-old greeting card company called H. George Caspari Inc., which helped zap the social taboo against toss-away tableware.

America's Casual Friday lifestyle has sent demand upward for anything that will look relaxed, save time, yet still make consumers look good, from blue jeans to paper plates. Caspari's plates and napkins don't have to be washed or ironed but are classy enough to soften almost the staunchest etiquette snob. A cut above the mass market in thickness and design, their dinnerware is at home at moonlit beach picnics as well as under crystal chandeliers. Or on the campaign trail. Last week, Caspari delivered an order of Stars & Stripes paper plates and napkins for a party for U. S. Senate candidate Hillary Rodham Clinton.

Caspari has dressed up the floppy white paper plate with sophisticated patterns culled from museum archives at places like Winterthur or the National Gallery of Art or created by more than 40 freelance artists. There are indigo and gold medallions taken from Venetian silks, yellow and periwinkle blue borders based on Claude Monet's porcelain at Giverny, and jewel-toned Easter eggs that recall the artistry of Faberge. The company's new moire-patterned paper table covers in colors like jade and platinum actually look and feel like fabric--unless you try to slice them with your steak knife.

Now even gourmet food stores are stocking disposables for busy consumers, cell phone in hand, who are looking for one-stop shopping for their spontaneous entertaining needs.

"Our customer comes in and says, 'We've decided to entertain tonight. I need a veggie platter. A dessert. Candles. Flowers. And I want some nice plates,' " says Vanessa Meyer, an assistant buyer at Sutton Place Gourmet, which stocks about a dozen Caspari patterns at its 13 stores.

"It gives our customers peace of mind that they can throw it all away when the dinner is over. But it doesn't have to look that way."

Paper wasn't always welcome at the best parties. Not too long ago, Americans aspiring to entertain with elegance would use only white cloth napkins at the dinner table. Colors--let alone paper--were considered declasse.

In 1983, Caspari, best known for its traditional, boxed Christmas cards, introduced its first three-ply-paper cocktail napkins. These weren't just boring pastel solids or napkins covered with dumb party jokes. These were printed on all sides, not just on the top like most other napkins. And they had classic motifs, like a blue and white pattern taken from a Ming bowl in the Freer Gallery of Art.

At first, the traditional upscale retail stores that carried Caspari's cards turned up their noses at the new tableware line. But some months later, one of Dallas's most sophisticated socialites requested the napkins by brand name at Neiman Marcus. After Neiman's placed a large order, stacks of Caspari napkins began turning up on stylish coffee tables from Beverly Hills to Bethesda.

"Disposable quickly became socially acceptable," says longtime Caspari president Douglas Stevens.

Today, Caspari's expanding tableware collection has helped push the firm's annual sales over $30 million. The line includes sturdy dinner plates decorated with gold tassels and Colonial Williamsburg toiles, oversize napkins with parrot tulips and swirling watercolor peonies. Some of the patterns are so elegant, hostesses set up the paper dishes on their mahogany dining table buffet and then lay out their best silver flatware to go along with it.

"What we do best is trompe l'oeil for the table," says Mark Bergadon, Caspari's merchandising director. "Historically, we've designed napkins to look like linen, plates that look like porcelain, and tablecloths that feel and drape like fabric. It looks better with your silver than with plastic."

Lisa Fingeret, Caspari's vice president and director of design, says they encourage customers to mix. "With our products, anything goes. If you use paper, all the rules are taken away. It's your job to combine it with what you have. You have fun--and then throw most of it away."

In addition to its 1,000 greeting card designs, Caspari sells millions of packages annually of its cocktail-size napkins decorated with Provencal paisleys, Spode Christmas trees and watermelons. It's a lot of style for a modest price: A package of 20 napkins costs $3.75. The line is sold through 8,000 stores worldwide, including Bloomingdale's, Marshall Field's and Harrods in London, and at local chains like The Paper Store.

Georgetown's Little Caledonia shop has sold Caspari products for decades to Washingtonians throwing book parties, second weddings and baby showers. Princess Diana adored Caspari's frog-printed wrapping paper, which she bought at London's Fortnum & Mason. Kate's Paperie, a chain of three exclusive Manhattan stationery shops that sells more than 4,000 products from all over the world, stocks Caspari products along with pricey French and Japanese handmade papers.

Designer Mario Buatta used Caspari floral paper guest towels in powder rooms at Blair House, and he buys the company's cocktail napkins too. "Sure I prefer cloth, but who has a staff to iron all those napkins?" says Buatta. "Caspari makes some of the nicest paper ones around, and then you don't have to worry about someone like me walking off with your linen ones."

What separates Caspari's napkins and plates from those made by giant mass-market manufacturers like Hallmark and American Greetings is rooted in a European, old-fashioned approach that continues to this day. The company was founded in New York in 1945 by George Caspari, a Berlin-born entrepreneur. Caspari became known for fine cards and gift wrap, designed by established artists and printed in Europe. George Caspari's artful designs and thick papers appealed to a well-heeled clientele, and he built the business up to more than 2,000 retail accounts.

In 1977, the retiring Caspari was looking to sell the business, which had a modest sales volume of about $2 million. Hallmark turned him down. In walked Douglas Stevens, then 34, who was in the publishing business and had contacts in the museum and art worlds. "I was attracted to the business because of its connection with artists," says Stevens. "I mortgaged everything to buy it. And I never looked back."

Stevens's idea from the start was to take the artists' work and apply it to related products like invitations, gift bags and place cards. He has broadened the company's licensing program , which currently includes Colonial Williamsburg, the National Gallery, Spode and Royal Worcester.

Eventually, Stevens led Caspari down the paper tableware path. Stevens resisted producing paper plates until around 1993, when at an elegant dinner party, a woman came up and asked him why Caspari did not offer a stylish paper plate. He told her he did not like eating on paper himself. She retorted, "That's a typical male comment. You go to bed after the party, and we women have to clean it up. I like to dump everything into a bag and throw it out."

That was enough to persuade Stevens to send his artists back to the drawing board. The challenge: Create an attractive, non-floppy plate that wouldn't collapse under a mound of saucy ribs. The form for the mold of their 10 1/2-inch buffet cardboard plates (eight for $4.75) was eventually taken from a wide-rimmed 19th-century English dinner plate.

Artists rose to the occasion. And today the paper tableware business is one-third of Caspari's total volume and its fastest-growing segment. This fall, there will be plates in a gold and green pattern called Autumn Leaves by artist Pamela Gladding; a decorative artist from Pennsylvania, and a new line called Londonderry Vase, based on an 1813 French vase from the Art Institute of Chicago. Their first Halloween pattern will feature California artist Erin Fitzpatrick's stylized ghosts on a chic terra-cotta-colored background. This Christmas, there will be seasonal designs by Belgian artist Isabelle de Borchgrave and holiday impresario Christopher Radko.

Despite the growth, Caspari's corporate headquarters here feels like an Old World atelier that has escaped the impersonal high-tech revolution. But don't think they've shunned the techno-savvy host: Some Caspari boxed invitations come with parchment vellum inserts that are Laser/Ink Jet compatible so invitations can be printed out on a home computer.

On a hot July afternoon, the Caspari corporate headquarters staff of 15 (the rest of the total 120 employees work in two Connecticut warehouses) is working on products for Easter 2001 and Christmas 2001. Their cozy offices in a 1900 building of lofts in Manhattan's hip Flatiron District have exposed brick walls and well-worn wood floors. All over there are bulletin boards pinned with hundreds of greeting cards. In one corner, an employee is sprawled on the floor surrounded by wrapping paper painted with pastel bunnies. It's still very much a hands-on business.

"Ours is a niche market to a certain style of customer," says Fingeret. "We like it this way."

Fingeret keeps a private stash of Ming Vase napkins at home. The pattern was discontinued. "Once you put out a good product, families use it from generation to generation," says Fingeret, who grew up in Alexandria and who has been with the company almost 20 years. "But you still have to do something new. Customers want something to spark their imagination. . . . White bone china with a gold rim is boring. With our things, you can go to the store and create a new table setting for every party."

And then you can throw it all out and start over again.

Previous Article          Back to the top         Next Article