Socrates once said, “an unexamined life is not worth living.” Now that I’ve just turned 29, okay 35, I’ve reached the age where I’m beginning to understand what he meant. Maybe it’s time to look past the superficiality of my disco-fabulous life in search of some deeper relevance, a bigger meaning, some greater significance outside the boundaries of self. It's time for a spiritual awakening. So the other day I decided to take five minutes out of my busy day of cocaine parties with LiLo and food-less lunches with Anna Wintour to ponder life here at Budget Fabulous. Yes, I meditated. Reflected. Chanted om. I achieved an alpha state. And then I barfed up the grilled ricecake in H2O sauce that Anna and I had shared for lunch that day at New York's hottest new restaurant, L'Anorexique. But what I learned on my spiritual journey is this…
I am fabulous. Totally fuh-reaking fabulous. Every day of my life I go to the fabulous places with all my fabulous friends (who are all simply fabulous). I’m attractive and I wear nice clothes and I don’t eat much. I double-airkiss and I know how to use “kiki” as a verb. I make the scene with famous downtown partygirls on the roof of Soho House, where even Samantha Jones wasn’t chic enough to be. I know models and Warhol superstars and glamorous transsexuals who have their own doll. I know people who went to Paris Hilton’s New Year’s Eve party. I’ve met Dawna from The Apprentice: Martha Stewart. I have more goody bags than teeth.
On recent a gorgeous spring evening, after praying to Buddha and thanking him for bestowing on me such fabulosity and physical beauty, I found myself at yet another glittering event. I met my agent Laura and our new best friend, luxury goods expert Andrea Sanseverino-Galan, at Central Park South hotspot San Domenico. Known for its superb Italian cuisine, elegant mid-century ambience, and a delicioulsy hedonistic $21 single raviolo, San Domenico also boasts one of the most charming and adorable proprietresses on the New York restaurant scene. Ms. Marisa Bocognano had invited us up to the hemline of the park to celebrate the new line of “travel jewelry”, created by jewelry designer, Marion-Michaela von Burchard, who was unintentionally (but flawlessly) channeling Zsa Zsa Gabor. By the way, darlings, travel jewelry refers to beautifully crafted copies of necklaces, bracelets and earrings, with hyper-realistic glass stones in place of precious gems. This is not costume jewelry, people. Travel jewelry is designed for women who actually own the real stuff, but who would rather not take the family jewels with them when they go abroad. You see, not only can you not get good help these days, you also can no longer rely on security, even in the finest hotels in Europe. Yes, it’s sad to say, but that butt-licking Plaza Athenee concierge, who so dutifully attends to your every need, is also robbing you blind, selling your rubies to finance his fondness for Tina. So Marion-Michaela’s travel jewelry is a girl’s answered prayer. You can look fabulous on your night out on the town with Camilla al-Fayed, while your real diamonds are safe at home in New York, where your Park Avenue servants are only trying them on, not stealing them. Like all good servants, they don't steal for fear of beatings.
Seen on the Scene: the fabulous TV personality, Miss Cognac Wellerlane, of Cognac’s Corner, sporting a very subdued hairstyle. Artist and photographer Brenda Kravitz who told me, before striking this fabulous pose, that her life didn’t begin until after her husband died. There was the usual assortment of fabulous society ladies and attractive power couples and high-end fashionistas. And then there was this very interesting woman with a long black ponytail, who revealed to me a very dirty little secret. It seems every time her husband gives her a big expensive rock, she hires a jewelry designer to make an impeccable copy with fake stones. She then sells the real piece for cash and puts the money in an account bearing her dead mother’s name! Now that's Budget Fabulous. But you didn’t hear it from me.
And now I'm afraid I must leave you and get back to my chanting. Spiritual cleansing awaits me. C'mon, everybody, do it with me: “Iamsofabulous… Iamsofabulous… Iamsofabulous…”
