The Invitation Capers

if you gild it, they will come.

With apologies to Kevin Costner and Field of Dreams, we're not talking baseball diamonds here. We're talking invitations. Specifically, that icon of the charity circuit, a heavily engraved white card tucked into a gilt-edged envelope. Back in the day, gilt-and-script quotient determined an event's position on the social scale. But fast forward a decade or so, past a couple of very curious incidents here along the Gulfshore, and one might well change that maxim to "If you send a bale of hay, they will come."

Actually, someone did (send a tiny bale of real hay). And they did come (to Community School's 2006 World Class Polo). That little affair raised $175,000 for the school's financial aid program.

This whole invitation caper began as just another ordinary day in paradise soon after the turn of the 21st century, on the cusp of the Naples social season. We can just imagine the well-known philanthropist opening her Port Royal mailbox to encounter a zebra-printed mailing tube with just the hint of a brilliant purple feather poking through the seal. Once open, the feathers keep coming, until she finds herself in possession of an in-your-face, Gypsy Rose Lee-style feather boa. Very gaudy. Attached to it is an equally garish chrome-and-velvet invitation to a party. But wait-this isn't just any party. This is the Angel Ball, one of the most elegant fundraisers in town. The theme is Glam Rock-and there isn't a white card or gilt envelope to be found.

Naturally, by evening, phone lines all over Naples were buzzing. This feather boa thing was nothing short of audacious. And the patrons loved it.

After that feather boa, and the totally irreverent evening that it promised (and delivered), there was no turning back. Not just for The Community School of Naples, host of the Angel Ball, but for scores of other nonprofit organizations along the Gulfshore.

Indeed, whoever said the serious business of raising money

for worthwhile causes had to

be stodgy?

Pirates and Wenches

If the feather boas were loud in the fashion sense, a swarm of dastardly pirates swaggering down Fifth Avenue South one day last season was even louder in the literal sense. The pirates and their wenches, employees of Culinary Concepts, barged in on corporate patrons bearing wooden treasure chests spilling over with doubloons, jewels and invitations to the Yabba Island Pirate Ball. Along the way, they tossed beads and trinkets to the delight of innocent bystanders. Meanwhile, hundreds of patrons all over town were opening their mailboxes to find their own invitations to the Pirate Ball: gold-infused, silver-sealed messages-in-a-bottle from the head pirate himself, restaurateur Skip Quillen. Predictably, the turnout for the event, and the proceeds for the children's charities it supported, were tremendous.

Trumpets and Frogs

Florida Gulf Coast University's entry into the social scene in 2000 again raised the bar on clever invitations with its Renaissance Gala, a visual feast of dining, pageantry and entertainment. That year, would-be patrons opened relatively ordinary-looking envelopes to the blare of medieval trumpets, thanks to a tiny sound chip embedded in the card.

"Scared me nearly out of my chair!" says one patron, laughing.

Trumpets in the mailbox seem positively tame compared with the tale of one local socialite, who recalls taking her car to the mechanic complaining of an unusual engine sound. "Kind of like the croaking of a frog," she explained. The mechanic (undoubtedly snickering at the feeble feminine description of an engine knock) checked that car from top to bottom before emerging with a pile of mail from the front seat. On top was an invitation to the Naples Botanical Garden's Walk on the Wild Side, featuring (you guessed it) the actual sound of a croaking frog.

Goodie Bags

Seacrest Country Day School knows kids, and kids can't resist presents, trinkets and bright Crayola colors. Neither, it seems, can the grown-ups who support the school at its annual treasure-themed gala. For their 2005 Noche Tropical invitations, vibrant orange gift bags stuffed with colorful baubles, along with the Gala for Treasures auction catalogue, were hand-delivered to 400 patrons.

Eat the Announcement

Nowadays, with an ever-more crowded social season, it's not prudent simply to send out an invitation a few weeks ahead. The planning for next year's event starts as soon as the dust-ah, glitter, feathers and doubloons-settle on the current one. Immediately following the 2006 Cattle Baron's Ball, the Lee County chapter of the American Cancer Society dispensed big, homemade save-the-date cookies for the 2007 Cattle Baron's Ball. Yes, cookies. We received one here at Gulfshore Life, but were unable to picture it here because, well, someone ate the evidence. In my own defense, how else was I to know that it was frosted with an anise- (or was it almond?) flavored logo?

Skip the Tux and Gown, Y'all

Don't look for "the pleasure of your company" and other proper lingo in the invitation for either of the American Cancer Society's two local Cattle Baron's Balls, held in unconventional places like the Red Sox stadium and a hangar at the Naples Airport. Instead it's "Y'all come" and "Yer seat's awaitin'." The time, please note, is "6 p.m. 'til the cows come home."

Cost vs. Wow! Factor

But who pays for all this enticement? After all, every dollar spent comes off the bottom line for the charity. Don't the patrons appreciate a tight rein on the spending?

Leslie Vega, development director at Seacrest, says "We try to put our money into the experience itself. One way to do that was to hand-deliver instead of mail our Noche Tropical treasure bags. People loved the personal attention, and our volunteers were eager to do it."

"Absolutely," says public relations consultant Paula Robertson. "Our professional challenge is to go for cost efficiency with visual impact."

This sentiment was expressed over and over by the committee chairs and executive directors of many organizations along the Gulfshore. The Community School of Naples' Mary Ann Smiley is part of the creative team that produces the elaborate Angel Ball invitations. She says the invitations' "wow" factor wouldn't be possible without the deep discounts provided by her creative designer and printer. It turns out that our little community here not only packs a punch when it comes to financial giving; they also give generously of their time and professional resources. Many designers, artists, ad agencies and public relations firms, as well as in-house marketing departments of local businesses, have provided their talents and services either at deep discounts or pro bono for these worthwhile causes.

And it gets personal. When a tuxedoed gentleman in white tie was needed to hand-deliver gift-wrapped boxes containing invitations to Gulfshore Life's Men & Women of the Year gala, public relations consultant Amy Gravina shamelessly pressed her own handsome son into service. Thanks, Matthew!

So what might show up in our mailboxes for the 2006-'07 season? All we can say is that as this issue of the Charity Register goes to press, Mary Ann Smiley and her team are secretly at work on the invitation for this year's Angel Ball theme, Moulin Rouge. Something to do with-oh, the scandal of it!-a corset.