London in New York

According to Greek mythology Narcissus fell in love with his own reflection. ”And so Narcissus, having come to a pool to quench his thirst, saw his reflection in its smooth surface, and fell in love with it.  And since he could not obtain the object of his love, he died of sorrow by the same pool”—- but not before writing an expose on the teachings of Aristotle and Socrates, the fancy school where they were educated, their expensive after school tutors who helped to inflate the calibre of  their prose and oratory, and  his rather bitchy, but well styled mentor at a large publishing house in Athens who worked him to the bone before Narcissus left to write his novel, leading to a scandal of mythic proportions througout Ancient Greece, before it was made into a movie—ironically the reflection he saw, as recently discovered by archaeologists, was the face of none other than an un named Upper East Side Fauxsocialite.

New York’s Top Socialites now consist primarily of those women who Vogue has tabbed to be the preferred ”reality” models for the designers promoted in the pages of Vogue and Style.com, who also serve as walking mannequins at Society events patronized by New York’s fashionable elite. Blogs have been devoted to documenting New York’s socialite circus, see: Socialite Rank, Park Avenue Peerage and New York Social Diary.  The term Socialite has evolved or devolved depending upon your perspective from what it originally was, a lady of a certain means, style and philanthropic bent who was actively actively social at the highest echelons of urban society, to a glamorous well styled woman who is regularly photographed at Charity and Society events, regardless of whether they come from the guilded classes or possess a philanthropic bent.  These days, in an era where women and men are more equal in all respects in life, many women of whom have achieved a level of career success, financial stature and are philanthopric in their own right, shun the label socialite.   Some of these professional women on the New York Society scene are CEO’s, CFO’s, Partners, Managing Directors and the like in the worlds of Law, Finance, Media, Industry and the Arts.  Many are even working moms to boot.  Some are even secure enough to play CEO by day and party girl by night, if it is for the right cause and in a tasteful environment amongst a certain class of company. And  they  can have fun with the notion of being called a socialite, albeit briefly, and to be photographed along side Vogue’s socialites.

“Faux-Socialites” –pronounced ‘foschialites’,  definition: people adept at social climbing who master who they need to know and for how long before sharing their true nature which is often initially masked even though they wear their raw ambition, couched in apparent insecurity so you will feed their ego, with pride on their sleeve.  These folks often spend more time, money and energy on their publicist, facebooking and twittering to add to their total number of friends, the nail and hair salon, personal stylist and shaking down designers for free dresses under the guise of being famous and assuring said designer that their fame would enable exposure for the designer. Charity? What’s that? Your lucky if you get these folks to “Give back” the dress clean without remains of their personal stank. Often women who have a meteoric rise in society without any social backing are routinely dismissed as “faux” or fake socialites, socialite wannabe’s before paying their dues or gaining their wings (whatever that means!).  Certain fauxsocialites eventually become considered legit socialites and still others bypass that stage entirely. Notably, however. when a fauxsocialite gets her own reality TV show she often graduates to the next level, engages in ridiculous promotional tactics and often becomes known rather as a celebutard, see e.g., Bethenny Frankel. These folks often exhibit a willingness to walk the red carpet at the opening of a zipper and spend time talking about how they juggle a career with nightly appearances on red carpets in NYC, LA and Miami, which itself actually seems like their full time job.

Over cocktails at Bar & Books on the Upper East Side, at random cocktail parties and via telephone, email and chat I discussed with a wide array of private citizens, scenesters and those disinterested or turned off by New York’s current social scene, the evolution of New York’s incestuous social media, its players and the most prolific, but what was most interesting were those who gravitated between engaging in social journalism and infusing themselves into the story they were covering. I took nominations based upon the following criteria:  if you know someone who either cannot (a) spell, b) attribute someone else other than another blogger who promotes them or links their blog  (c) infuses themselves into their coverage of an event or story (d) take criticism and/or e) feels entitled to 100% excellent press for their efforts and/or  (f)) someone you have wanted to or been forced to de-friend on Facebook for talking out of all sides of their mouth trying to be all things to everyone, then nominate them for the position of NYC’s Top FauxSocialite.  The contenders are:

Rachelle Hruska:  The Nebraskan born new media entrepreneur (as stated by her wikipedia entry) is an  internet personality,  with equal parts Holly Go Lightly and Suzanne Stone Maretto (See: Nicole Kidman in “To Die For” ). Yet, it is hard to imagine that anyone who looks like Rachelle with such corn fed good looks and “apparent” sincerity will ever have a tough time in life, regardless of whether she can write or not.  My blog is evidence enough that you need not be Henry David Thoreau, Norman Mailer or Ernest Hemingway in order to have people read you. In fact, GuestofaGuest’s soundbyte’s and photos are perfect communication vehicle for or a dumb downed culture of twitiots with a short attention span.  To her credit Rachelle has mastered speaking to a wide cross section of young folks with ADD, who have neither the patience or inclination to think for themselves.  It matters not when you are a golden goddess, someone else can take the photos, others can do the writing whenever needed and press releases are ever abundant in this world, just put on one of Keith Lissner’s dresses and head out to “cover the party.” If you do not know how to write, all the better, just lift and copy and proofread for accuracy.  It is after all just a social blog. You could be going places. Who knows maybe even become the hot weather girl who gives the “social temperature” on evening newscasts. Rachelle is, however, disqualified, from the title since she has been embraced by the so called real socialites who most recently had her serve on the Benefit Committee for the Whitney Studio Party (which was openly criticized and ridiculed for lowering  the standards of what is supposed to me one of New York’s most venerable cultural institutions and turning into a nightclub fashion freak show for folks who have absolutely nothing to do with Art Patronage in this town— and perhaps a subject for another blog about the moronic publicists who think that bringing Bungalow 8 to the Whitney and getting tabloid coverage  actually advances the interests of art) , and who perhaps see her as an enabler of fauxsocialite culture and serving as their accessory or accomplice to their FameGame (See e.g., Scott Bucheit, Naeem Delbridge). Rachelle should just give in and accept that she is a socialite (under the new definition), as it appears that is what she has been angling for all along.

Micah Jesse:  This New York scenester, an Atlanta native, recent Hofstra University graduate who got a dual degree, a B.A. in Clubbing and a B.S. in Standing Next to Celebrities and is currently pursuing his Masters in Bation, providing you with all the news that you already know or that you do not care to know. Micah serves as the prophet for the “Need to be Seen.”  So if you too want to dress glamorously, attend red carpets, stand next to celebrities and have your picture taken with them, Micah Jesse is your hero who illustrates that it is all in fact possible. See:  “The Circus Came to Town & The Clown Wore One Glove.” While many might think that Micah Jesse already has it in the bag, truth is that he is far too much of a discredited farce and so on that ground alone nobody in their right mind would consider this guy, who wants to be “the nice” Perez Hilton,  any kind of social journalist.  He is a court jester in his own Bozo the Clown show that only ridicutards are actually watching.

Kristian Laliberte:  He is on this list because despite being a Columbia University graduate, good looking, stylish and possessing a relatively strong command of the English language, he is an easy target who is  always on these lists. With a mediacentric persona and unique ability to make enemies in a rather insular social circuit, one is always left with the impression with Kristian that he could be, should be, wants to be doing something else, whether it is blogging for Stylecaster, doing public relations for an emerging designer or angling for his own Reality TV show. For whatever reasons people like to mess with Kristian and Kristian likes to get into trouble. When he is not being petty or centering his participation in an event as part of his own coverage, the stylish dandy boy, has potential. But he is young and New York City has so many temptations which he regularly gives into, and in the realm he is in, I hardly think becoming the next Jim Shi is truly that high a goal to aspire to. There has to be more and maybe Kristian will figure it all out and cast himself beyond the world of style because for him that is simply too easy.

Anisha Lakhani: While we cannot speak much of her book “Schooled” and have not really studied her new blog Pink Memo, I will leave you with a memorable quote on Amazon by a former classmate of Ms. Lakhani: “I can’t recommend a novel that even a copy editor couldn’t bring him- or herself to read. “Schooled” is not funny, it’s not well-written, and the only insight it offers is a peek into the mind of a shallow, and apparently scheming, socialite; it’ll probably be a bestseller.” In fairness to Anisha, the newly single, recently divorced lady likely has a reason to work it on the carpets and for society cameras as her book, regardless of what one thinks of it, may turn into the next Devil Wear Prada.  As a casual observer pointed out, “doesn’t it strike you as odd that all of Anisha’s BFF’s are media personalities, society writers, high tier socialites, publishers and journalists?”

Truth is that to be called a “fauxsocialite” is hardly an insult. It is teasing nudge, a joke.   And all of the foregoing folks have already literally “jumped the shark” as have many who would garner an honorable mention (see, e.g., Devorah Rose, and not just for her latest antics) on the short list but the blog would be way too long.  And I suspect daily or nightly someone is in our midst vying for the title of NYC’s Top Faux-Socialite, so keep your eyes peeled.  Nevertheless, I was surprised when after the phrase was used and rather haphazardly applied in my prior blog post, the first in my Trilogy of Narcissism series, I received a volume of email and telephone calls for what was apparently perceived by some as a horrible insult.  Would it make you feel better if I called you a “REAL”  or “Genuine” Socialite? I mean afterall there are blogs and books dedicated to the subject and you can decided whether you have arrived and are truly “official.”

I remember not too long ago when a certain modelicious paisan with a doll like face and doe eyes was dismissed by some of Vogue’s fasionista’s for being impatient, limelight, camera seeking wannabe. The only thing is that Olivia Palermo was not a “wannabe” but rather from the outset, eveny lensman who saw and captured her  “wanted her to be” —something special.  Olivia Palermo was photograped, accepted as unique and was a phenomenon from the start and raced on the scene like a Ferrari passing Yugo’s.  Many, who were jealous perhaps by the level of attention she received argued that she did not “earn it” necessarily in the manner that “the reigning queen of the socialite circus” (as phrased by Cityfile.com), Tinsley Mortimer had.  They tried to dismiss the adorable little paisan as a wannabe, a “faux-socialite”  if you will.  For a brief minute in some eyes, Olivia was a faux socialite, who’s socialite days are clearly behind her.  She now works in public relations while starring on “The City” a reality show in its second season along side Whitney Port and is in the process of  morphing into an actual legitimate celebrity in her own right. To her credit she seems to have been raised right and is not and has not engaged in any celebutard like behavior. And  while she plays her role as an elitist snotty society girl rather well, I simply will always remember Olivia  as the even more genuinely polite than pretty girl, and that is saying alot, who was almost self conscious, humbled and gracious that photographers were so  mesmerized by her doll like face and impeccable manners.  They could re-issue the Barbie doll and call it an Olivia doll and people would buy it. And you will have to forgive me, if having an Italian surname makes me a tad less critical. Society needs more Paisan. And if you are wondering when this blog will end and what the final point is, I will just stop here as the story goes on.

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