Though my family moved around a lot when I was little, from the time I was 12, until I was about 18, we lived in Millburn, New Jersey. Millburn is a preppy little town, somehow connected to its more upscale sister town, Short Hills. I'm still not sure why they're not the same town, because they share the same junior and senior high schools and small-town government. But anyway, the only difference between them that I can tell is that Millburn is is middle- to upper-middle class and Short Hills goes from way-upper-middle-class to downright rich. Oh, and Short Hills has a schmancy mall.
Growing up there back then was great if you were blonde, blue-eyed, rich and catholic or some breed of WASP. It was somewhat less great if you were weird, poorish, dark, or even Jewish. Two of my three remaining friends from the bad ole days, Val Frankel and Dan Zevin, only recently told me that kids used to throw pennies at them and referred to the area they lived in as "Kike's Peak." Nice, right? I guess I didn't notice their torment because I was busy getting violently shoved up against lockers and being called "ugly bitch" by the football team.
Anyway, I was perusing Gawker yesterday and saw that they linked to this twitty socialite's blog. I scanned the thing and was quickly sucked in— in the exact same way I can't look away from surgical procedures on TV. Melissa (the peppy socialite—I almost wrote "socialist!") is 26 (or so she claims—check out the photos), and just married a 56-year-old guy named CHAPPY. She has a weakness for grosgrain-ribbon belts and headbands, and divides her time between an Upper East Side apartment and Sagaponack. She's not sure what she wants to do, but she might go to school and become a nutritionist. Or not. She may just begin spitting Baby Chappies ASAP. As I read on, my head started to spin and suddenly it started to seem so familiar, in a very scary way. Like I was being sucked back in time. Good god. My stomach started to churn as visions of lime-green khakis with tiny frogs embroidered all over them flashed through my head. Girls in pearls! Grown men in madras patchwork pants! LaCoste shirts with the collars turned up! Aaargh!
Then I got to the part where she mentions having grown up in Short Hills. And it all made sense.
Excellent post. Born and raised in NJ --when Elizabeth was Jewish clean and drug-free. Good times.
Posted by: Maria | May 12, 2006 at 11:46 AM
That is just.... disgusting. He looks (and is) old enough to be her father.
Posted by: MissPinkKate | May 12, 2006 at 12:12 PM
If she's 26 then so am I. Chappy looks like a ton of fun.
Posted by: Heater | May 12, 2006 at 12:14 PM
I'm truly surprised that Melissa doesn't refer to herself as Missy...So *I* will!
I looooooooved the alcoholic/prozacial gaze in Missy's mom's eyes...That's the future for you, l'il Missy: heh-heh-heh...
Don't you worry, girlie, Chappy won't dump you for a new model fucktoy in 15 or 20 years. Nope, it's true love all the way...
Posted by: Prep School Apocalypse Ivan | May 12, 2006 at 01:25 PM
I wonder if Chappy is his real name. Does it refer to Melissa's state of things rather than to him?
I know/knew girls like this and they do just stay girls. This type of gal influenced me enough to wear my own blue whale belt a few times back in the 80s.
Posted by: rose | May 12, 2006 at 03:53 PM
You're a miserable cunt.
Posted by: Judy McGuire | May 12, 2006 at 08:21 PM
Hey! A friend of Missy's (Chappy, perhaps?) just called me a miserable c-word! AND stole my name! I'm going to call Daddy! Harumph!
Posted by: judes | May 12, 2006 at 08:52 PM
Oh Shit! Bitch Fight!
She probably doesn't know as many words as you do, Judes, so she needs to go for the obvious. Poor thing.
Posted by: Heater Beater | May 14, 2006 at 12:04 PM
i don't think one gets the full effect without viewing this:
http://melissacmorris.blogspot.com/2006/05/nuptial-nonsense.html
don't miss mel and her mama.
and wow, "miserable c-word" is so creative!
Posted by: kate | May 15, 2006 at 04:26 PM
I wrote a blog post about that chick too! At first I was almost positive that the whole thing was a joke. After all, there couldn't REALLY be people like that in real life, could there? But it's all true! It would be hilarious if it weren't so disturbing.
The way I see it, I may live in a rent-controlled apartment until I die, eating beans off of paper plates and then washing the paper plates to use them again, and wearing a barrel held up with suspenders to work every day, but at least I'll never have to share a bed with a creepy old man in a polo shirt.
Posted by: threetoedsloth | May 16, 2006 at 03:10 PM
Nor will you ever shellac your hair into a bonnet of steel. I always wondered where people from my high school disappeared to after graduation. Now I know. Though on second thought, who am I kidding? No way she went to public school!
Reading her blog is so fascinating. An anthropoligical excursion into a world I'll never know. Imagine, those scurrilous newspapers claiming her ring to be two carats, when it's actually FIVE!!!
Posted by: judes | May 16, 2006 at 03:23 PM
Chappy? Chappy!!???
Posted by: toocheapfortherapy | May 22, 2006 at 12:49 AM
okay. i happened upon your blog today by chance due to the fact that i was just writing about how i hated high school. anyway, i clicked on the link for twitt's socialite blog. you are absolutely right. it's a bad train wreck. it's like watching those damn plastic surgeons hack away when all you want to do is look away. oh boy! what world does that woman live in?? and who takes pictures of meals they made!? i'd be taking pics of my mac n cheese box....
Posted by: a new day | June 19, 2006 at 12:30 PM
How nice that you act like you're still in middle school by writing this post.
I've gone and read her blog from start to finish and kind of dig her. She's able to poke fun at herself and has a positive, happy vibe.
If anyone is a train wreck in this situation it most certainly would be you.
Posted by: CTK | December 08, 2006 at 12:35 AM