Party on: how the recession has scaled back fun

People are still having fun but conspicuous entertaining is on the way out...

The massive Mustard Catering van pulled up next door in the early hours of the afternoon. Eight burly men jumped out and carried a long trestle table and a dozen chairs along with dozens of plates and boxes of food into the house next door.

They then spent hours setting up what in the end looked like a remarkably normal dinner table for my film producer neighbour. There were no four-foot candelabras, no priceless exotic floral centrepieces, no naked painted dancers, just a simple tablecloth and small vases of flowers. Five years ago, he would have thrown a big party. Now, like many other Londoners, he is entertaining quietly at home.

Financial meltdown aside, Londoners are throwing as many parties as ever: they're just doing it differently. "We do it much more low key now," says ­Gerhard Wise, a venture capitalist. "A group of us used to throw a Christmas party at Annabel's every year. It was always black tie. This year we opted for burgers at Tramps. It was equally fun and relaxed but in the spirit of the times."

A friend who threw her daughter's 18th birthday party at the now very popular 33 Portland Place (Kate Moss and Vivienne Westwood have both had parties there) shunned Claridge's. "There is something very wrong about renting a space like that in these times," she says. "I wanted an interesting atmosphere that doesn't suggest money." The peeling walls and rickety floors of the derelict Georgian mansion add to the somewhat surreal atmosphere. "The proportions mean it can be dressed up as you please," she says. For that particular party, the bannisters were wrapped in fabric and the rooms filled with church candles and tall potted plants.

The difference was that the plants came from her local garden centre and the sheets had been draped on by her daughter's friends. Though caterers are still used, people use fewer of them. They may be hovering in the kitchen but it's the hostess in flats, not a rented ­butler, who greets you at the door.

Where people once threw parties they now throw dinners, and where they once hosted dinners they now have lunches. The architect John Pawson, for example, chose to invite 14 close friends to a 60th birthday party on a Tuesday at Zumas (the celebration lasted four hours). Sara Carello, a well-known London Italian hostess, invited a group of women (including Amanda Eliasch and Allegra Hicks) to a three-course lunch rather than host a ­dinner party. We chose to throw ourselves two 20th anniversary dinners in the private room at Bumpkin in Notting Hill. The idea of a pub was particularly appealing. The private room seats 30 but the fact that the chairs don't match and the tables are rickety made everyone far more relaxed.

In fact, now that undecorating is the new design trend anything that looks precious, matches or shouts "new" appears vulgar. The Finnish design company Iittala recently launched an ad campaign with photographs of real people entertaining at home using their own chipped glasses, stained tablecloths and crockery mixed with brand new Iittala items. Nia Morris, interior designer, is one of many ­Londoners shunning formality. "I'm planning to rent the Château Lartigolle in France and invite a small group of close friends for my 50th," she says. "I want it to be warm and charming and, I guess, simple, but it's all relative. I think black tie was probably more appealing when we were 20. I'm going for summer dresses and flip flops."

Kit Hesketh-Harvey of Kit and the Widow, who performs cabaret at private parties as well as on the comedy ­circuit, has also seen a big change on the party landscape. "In the glory days parties were almost Lucullan in their orgiasticness," he says. "You couldn't spend enough or order enough helicopters and cricket pitches. Parties used to be about competition."

Though the change in economic status means people have had to cut back, even those with the means are choosing to be modest. "Big spenders like the brothers behind Hakluyt are entertaining at home rather than in a big ballroom," he says. When purse strings are tight, we choose to invest in friends rather than to seek to impress."

What doesn't exist any more are the private dances. "Those were taken over by charities," he says. "You no longer see any duchesses on the invitation list. They're far too scared of the new school of glamorous foreign moneyed folk to dare to come out. They entertain in the country."

London's young professional set is also changing its routine. "Clubs are still in but people are skipping dinner before and just showing up," says Carlo Carello, 24, marketing manager for Boujis. Illegal raves are back too, he says, particularly in the East End. "Astrid Harbord threw a big party there. Prince Harry came. It was pretty wild," he says. Boujis (particularly on a Tuesday night) still continues to draw a big crowd as does Cuckoo and Punk (Kate Moss and the Geldof girls' favourite hangout).