As my readers know, I hate children and have none. I actively seek out child-free venues so as not to be exposed to their snotty noses and pitchy little voices. But if I did have a daughter, here’s what I would tell her.
Make Lists Of Rich And Important People.
I can’t tell you how essential this is in life. Keeping track of the rich, the famous, the powerful and the skinny will help you keep the values that you cherish close to your heart. It will help you not waste any time at parties with some obscure nobody no one gives a shit about. And most importantly, maintaining these types of lists ensures that you will always be on one yourself, because the day you slip is the day you should take a flight to Amsterdam and end it all.
Men Dig Stilettos
You can wear flip flops in the shower if you must, but honey, there’s only one way to snag a man at Davos, and it’s not with Mephisto.
Narcotics Are Your Friend. Yoga is the Enemy.
It’s been a disillusioning decade in Manhattan. What was once the land of Rollerblading Hotties and Pole Dancing Workshops has become a haven for Bikram Studios and ‘Laughing Lotus Centers’. The recent NY Times articles skewering Yoga are no accident – Mother used to bang an Ochs-Sulzberger, and I’ve had it with this psuedo-spiritual murderous me-fest masquerading as fitness. If I see one more pregnant woman walking around E. 61st street with a Yoga strap, I will hurl all over her and whip her with it.
It’s Always About You.
If you ever sense that it’s not, make sure to bring the focus back to yourself. Talk about yourself in the third person. Show a little cleavage, complain about something that happened to you recently, or just start yelling at someone. A clever woman knows how stay at center stage. Modesty is for housewives.
You Are So Very Expendable
So stay young. Make sure there’s no lipstick on your teeth. And never, ever dance when you’re drunk.