How to Throw a Dinner Party: Hate-Themed Edition

Alright, buckle up bitches. Most dinner parties are the fucking WORST. Dismal fare, basic pleasantries, someone complaining about their “dietary restrictions” (grow up) and just complete lack of vibe and stimulation. If you’re going to force yourself into one of these soul-sucking hellscales, you’d better make it a hate-themed dinner party. Fun for the whole family!

This is a night where everyone gets to spit venom about the people/ places and things that keep them up at night in a Unisom induced spiral of hate for no reason. There will be well intentioned insults, martinis flowing like it’s the apocalypse, gorgeous appetizers, a tablescape that will give you an erection and probably someone crying. It’s not just a dinner party… it’s a cultural revolution.A birthday celebration that will haunt you for all of eternity!

Hosting a dinner party soon? Maybe it’s time to switch it up, The Bitch Bible way.

How to Throw a Dinner Party: Hate-Themed Edition

This isn’t your average gathering. It’s a maniacal shitshow of candlelight, chaos, and the most savage honesty. Your dining room? A war zone of sarcastic (but somewhat truthful digs) and petty complaints. Your bottle of wine? Gone in 2 minutes. That bitch from high school? Stalked on Instagram, psychoanalyzed and skewered alive like chicken shawarma. For fun!!!

By the end of the night, your friends will be delighted yet traumatized, questioning every life choice that got them to this point. And don’t worry, after those morally corrupt floodgates open they’ll be begging for more. If you’ve never thrown a dinner party before (or a hate-themed one at that), first of all, why the fuck not? Second of all, I’m about to give you a quick, no bullshit guide for doing it and doing it right so you’re welcome!

What Is a Themed Party?

A themed party is your permission slip to lose your mind and be a total cunt while pretending it's grade A entertainment. It dictates your dining room decor, menu, music, and conversations. It’s basically a legal and less hurtful way to roast your friends and make up for it in stunning appetizers and adult beverages. 

With a hate-themed dinner party, you can scream “I fucking hate everything and everyone” but somehow make it social, chic, and educational. For alcohol consumption purposes… obviously. Just come armed with a list of things you HATE—I know you have them somewhere in your notes app.

How to Throw a Hate-Themed Dinner Party

Throwing a hate-themed party? Don’t fuck it up by lack of concept. As they say, “A dinner party is not just a meal, but a celebration of lids!” Whatever the fuck that means…

Pick Your Targets Wisely

First things first, you want to pick something universally or micro-niche annoying. TikTokers that make you want to punch a baby? Vegans with a superiority complex? Battery operated candles? Men in white sports cars? JoJo Siwa in general? People who say “no worries if not,” but absolutely do worry?

Anyways, I could go on FOREVER. You want to make these targets the spine of your night.This is a safe space to nurture transparency! Lean in! Scream it from the rooftops. Purge your soul over a gorgeous paella! 

Dress the Room for Drama

Dress the room for drama or don’t bother at all. Forget the standard tablescape. Let’s get weird! Low lighting obviously. So many fucking candles. Flowers. Shagreen. Layered patterns, textures, colors. Save the burlap for a sad girl named Kayleighs potluck dinner party. The conversation is hopefully vile so make the setting GORG.

I’m talking place cards that call your guests out, a centerpiece that’s chic but ironic, glassware for days and every cocktail garnish known to mankind. If you really want to commit to the bit, a dramatic lamp (change copy to candle stick) seals the deal. Nothing says “hate night” like moody lighting and horrible intentions. 

Feed Them Petty

Being hateful yet well-intentioned is very exhausting therefore you need hearty sustenance. I love serving the classics with an elevated twist. Caviar and potato chips, pigs in a blanket, penne a la VODKA, chocolate cookies with flaky salt. If you’re going to traumatize your guests, you might as well feed them well.

Keep the Drinks Flowing

Drinks=fuel. Total non-negotiable. Throw in some bonus rounds if you really want to get the grievances flowing. If someone doesn’t drink, hand them a mocktail called “Passive Aggressive Spritz” and keep it moving. Alcohol isn’t the point, but it does make the point sharper. 

Pro tip: these martini glasses make the chaos look classy while you scream about nail art. Seriously, what is that about? It’s disgusting and I’m sick of seeing it. We don’t talk about that enough.

Create Hurtful Conversation Starters

Ask your guests: “Which ex makes you want to set your phone on fire?”, or “What’s the dumbest trend you’ve had to tolerate this week?” The goal? Laughs, roasting, and some healthy side-eyeing. If someone cries, pour them another drink and tell them to shut up. 

Wrap it up with awards or gag gifts: “Most Dramatic Complaint of the Night” or “Ugliest Crier”. Bonus points for humiliation disguised as fun. Everyone leaves with a laugh, a slightly bruised ego, and a story to tell their other friends about how they survived the worst (but best) dinner party ever.

Hate-Themed Dinner Party Ideas

Pet Peeve Potluck

God I hate a potluck. But for the sake of shtick - assign everyone to bring a dish based on something that pisses them off. Someone will show up with a sad, store-bought veggie tray labelled “Vegan That Won’t Shut Up”, while another brings in a shitty casserole labelled “Slow Walkers”. The food really doesn’t matter; it’s the pettiness that counts. 

Roast the Trends

Take every overdone, soul-crushing trend and drag it across your dinner table. First, serve avocado toast as a “starter” (because do we really need to pretend it’s still revolutionary?). Then, make a sad attempt at a “clean girl aesthetic” chicken breast, which is obviously unseasoned, because apparently that’s chic. 

Finish off the night with pumpkin spice cupcakes that screeeeam basic bitch. Between courses, roast the fuck out of each other, make fun of random TikToks, and talk about the shit that you HATE. By dessert, everyone will be united by mutual disgust, which is where the real bonding happens.

Hate-Themed Playlist

Music sets the tone, so you’ll want to curate a playlist that’s equal parts unhinged and unbearable. Start with every overplayed pop anthem, sprinkle in some elevator music, and close up strong with breakup ballads. 

Bonus points when someone dramatically reads a Taylor Swift bridge after three messy martinis. It’s theatrical, tragic, and totally on-brand for the night. The more chaotic the soundtrack, THE BETTER. Don’t forget to sing along with the enthusiasm of a hostage video.

Gag Gift Swap

Turn the classic Secret Santa vibe into a hate-themed fucking nightmare. Everyone brings the most irritating, tacky, or useless item they can find. The rules: it must cost less than $15 and must be deeply offensive to your aesthetic. 

I’m talking “Live Laugh Love” mugs, knockoff designer perfume, inspirational quote wall art—you know the kind. Then swap, unwrap, and roast the shit out of each item. The winner is whoever makes the group laugh the hardest or cry the most from secondhand embarrassment. 

Martinis, meltdowns, and memories you may regret but never forget!

At the end of the day, a hate-themed dinner party isn’t about being mean (well, maybe a little). It’s about being honest and hilarious in a way only your people will get. It’s about letting off steam with the friends who will gladly down martinis with you, roast the fuck out of iNfLuEnCeR cUlTuRe, and still be in time for bed and a vintage RHONY binge. 

Because being a bitch doesn’t mean being cruel. It means being unfiltered. It means staying authentic. And sometimes it means saying the shit everyone else is too polite to say with a martini in hand. Which, hello, is basically the whole premise of The Bitch Bible. Think of it as your weekly hate-themed dinner party in podcast form, minus the shitty clean-up. Oh, and you can hate-listen in bed with your sweatpants on. You’re welcome.