Mingling is no use when you don't know who you're imngling with! You use a careful eye to pick out the humans in garb humans consider flashy. You're familiar enough to know that the leaders are usualy in the middle of the scale, with the truely decked out ones being low on the totem pole and trying to hide their status.
You spot three couples of humans, likely mating pairs. One is a man in odd uniform, with golden tassels from his shoulders and the bird-and-planet sigil that seems almost omnipresent on official human matters. His breast is bedeck with a multitude of shimmering plates of metal and the rainbow, plastic bars. You belive this means he is a member of the military, though many here seem to be of that persuasion. His wife is wearing a far plainer but much tighter red dress, and her face has been made up to accentuate her lips and eyes. You find it rather offputting, but the other humans complement her on her features.
Another is a man wearing shiny black, with a white shirt showing about his breast and a bright blue tie. On his head he wears a tall, widebrimmed hat, and a pair of armless spectacles is held via chain to his pocket. His face is clear of even the finest fur, unlike several other humans boasting full facial hair, and his lips are drawn in the weird human smile. He seems quite used to it. The woman nearby him seems to be completely disinterested in whatever he's saying, but highly interested in him. Her mouth hangs open and she vocalizes intrest in the business matters he is discussing with collegues, but the glassy nature of her gaze strikes you as bored out of her mind.
And by the side of the room, a man leans alone against the wall. His clothes are simple and relatively unadorned, his tie a soft pastel blue. His hair is disheveled, but his eyes search the room as if looking for someone. Briefly, you make eye contact. He nods and looks away sharply and pointedly. Whoever he's looking for, it's not you...