Survivor -- Mean Mommies edition
My new read is Confessions of a prep school mommy handler, by Wade Rouse. I picked it up because I enjoyed reading his America's boy: a memoir.
Rouse is a gay man, Southern born and bred, hired as a PR director at a prestigious private school, and the book goes into details about his dealings with very pretty, very mean, very rich mommies of elite elementary students.
I'm enjoying it so far, although it's not exactly funny. Biting and sad, more likely. Never having been incredibly wealthy, I find it hard to imagine being so proudly shallow. I'd like to think I'd never cave in to the kind of peer pressure that forces me to wear pink every day, call my daughter Itsy Bitsy, or dress my teacup poodle in a matching outfit. But, having been a victim of my share of mean girls, it might be difficult to ignore the siren's song of popularity.
You want me to buy a Louis Vuitton handbag, wear a Lilly Pulitzer dress, and host a Botox party?
I can do that.
No, wait. I can't. I won't do that! Go away, mean mommies!
What I'd really like to see is a bunch of hyper-wealthy women stranded on a deserted island and watch as their civilized veneer is stripped away -- along with their four figure wardrobes -- their roots grow out into gray, and they start eating bark off the trees. Now that's the kind of reality TV I'd enjoy.
1 comment:
J.M. Barrie, creator of Peter Pan, wrote a play called the Admirable Crichton in which a wealthy Edwardian family is shipwrecked and the only member of the party who knows anything about survival skills is the butler. He eventually becomes king of the island and the lovely daughter of wealth falls for him because of his power. When they're rescued and return to London, Crichton goes back to being a bulter and something of an embarrassment. C.B. DeMille made a silent film of the play, called Male and Female.
Sorry, but this is what your post made me think of. You just glimpse me when I find associations like this. I have to live with it.
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