Just the girls getting together," she'd said. To be specific, last Tuesday I went to my friend Mimi's townhouse on Sixty-third and Madison for her "super-duper-casual baby shower. The downside is that sometimes the freebies wreak havoc with your social life - believe me, if your dermatologist's kid can't get into Episcopal he'll be on the phone to you day and night. Like, you never have to pay for anything important like manis or pedis or highlights or blow-outs. All anyone in New York ever says is "everything's fabulous!" even if they're on Zoloft for depression. The truth is that combined with work it's completely draining, but no one dares say that in case they look ungrateful. Julie gets the Fargos so badly that she's never able to leave her apartment in The Pierre in time for anything she has to be in time for.Įveryone thinks the party-girl life is the best life you can lead here. I've heard that almost all Manhattan girls suffer from this debilitating condition. I never tell a soul this, but sometimes before the parties I look in the mirror and see someone who looks like they are straight out of a movie like Fargo.
I always say why trust myself when gossip can tell moi the real truth about moi ?Īnyway, according to gossip I'm this champagne bubble of a girl about town - New York being the only town that cares about having girls about it - living the perfect party-girl life, if that's what you think a perfect life is. But sometimes gossip is by far the most reliable source of information about yourself and all your friends, especially in Manhattan.
Every time you open a magazine or newspaper there's another item about a BB's latest romantic drama or new obsession (right now it's fringed Missoni dresses). Inevitably, Bergdorf Blondes are talked and gossiped about endlessly. Ariette is like $450 a highlight, if you can get in with her, which obviously you can't. The hair can't be yellow, it has to be very white, like Carolyn Bessette Kennedy's was. Anyway, it was rumored in certain circles that Julie got her blonde touched up every thirteen days exactly and suddenly everyone else wanted to be Thirteen-Day Blondes. Someone heard she'd been going to Ariette at Bergdorf for her color since high school, because apparently she told her personal shopper at Calvin Klein who told all her clients. She's the ultimate New York girl, since glamorous, thin, blonde department-store heiresses are the chicest thing to be here. It all began with my best friend, Julie Bergdorf. Getting the hair color right is murder, for a start. Honestly, it all requires a level of commitment comparable to, say, learning Hebrew or quitting cigarettes. You wouldn't believe the dedication it takes to be a gorgeous, flaxen-haired, dermatologically perfect New York girl with a life that's fabulous beyond belief. Absolutely everyone wants to be one, but it's actually très difficult. Bergdorf Blondes are a thing, you know, a New York craze.
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