Rich bitch
Manhattan women whose investment banker boyfriends and husbands no longer make seven figure salaries are pooling their tears and their problems, reports the New York Times.
Once it was seen as a blessing in certain circles to have a wealthy, powerful partner who would leave you alone with the credit card while he was busy brokering deals. Now, many Wall Street wives, girlfriends and, increasingly, exes, are living the curse of cutbacks in nanny hours and reservations at Masa or Megu. And that credit card? Canceled.
Raoul Felder, the Manhattan divorce lawyer, said that cases involving financiers always stack up as the economy starts to slip, because layoffs and shrinking bonuses place stress on relationships - and, he said, because "there aren't funds or time for mistresses any more."
(One such mistress wrote on the blog that when she pouted about not having been taken on a trip lately, her married man explained that with money so tight, his wife had taken to checking up on his accounts.)
These Choo-less Recession Widows even have a blog, Dating a Banker Anonymous, where:
To be honest, I am not entirely sure the whole thing isn't a very clever put-on.
But either way, it beggars belief how much coverage the ''suffering'' rich people are getting in the media compared with those working poor who have lost their jobs, their homes and had to give up their pets to shelters (or worse, abandoned them) because they could not even afford the price of cat food.
On a related matter, here's a look at how many well-off couples, who have lived the 1950s stay-at-home wife lifestyle, are experiencing economic shockwaves.
"How can you complain about my spending when you don’t have an adequate income?" Tracey asks Scott during their arguments. "How can you complain about me not earning an adequate income, when you can’t control your spending?" asks Scott. Less sympathetic is the anonymous wife from Tribeca who tells us that in her family it was his job to provide a nice lifestyle while hers was to run the household and the children’s lives. When he loses his Wall Street bonus and his income drops from $800,000 to $150,000 a year, she’s bitter and crushed. "Let me just say this," she tells the reporter. "I’m still doing my job."
Give me a break.
What happened to for better or worse, for richer or poorer ... ?
UP YOURS DATE: OMG, Now those poor little rich girls may have a book deal.
Can the movie be far behind?
FURTHER UP YOURS DATE (30/1/09): I thought something smelled fishy.
Spoiled, awful, hateful gold-diggers feeling sorry for themselves...there's an eagerness to buy into this tale, to believe that people are like this -- that women are like this -- that's disappointing. Because yes, it might be a tale of spiteful gold-diggers, but it might also be a far more interesting tale of women who know exactly what buttons to press, and what stereotypes to feed, in order to get themselves a lot of attention.





You know, I DO think this is kind of a put-on, like Stuff White People Like, or the movies Legally Blonde or Clueless.
The writing isn't bad anyway...
Posted by: Aurelia | January 29, 2009 at 11:54 AM
Hustlers. Er, I mean, Hussies.
Posted by: sooey | January 29, 2009 at 06:21 PM