Cookie’s new columnist, Tatiana Boncompagni Hoover, has a problem. That problem is that she is just too fucking fabulous for her own good. Each week, the daughter of an Italian princess, wife of an appliance scion (yeah, she’s married to that Hoover), and mother of Enrico and Valentina finds herself “deluged” with invitations to black-tie galas and cocktail parties, plus “intimate dinners, a weekend jaunt to a swanky new hotel in Miami, even a spa week at a tony Anguilla resort,” and it’s getting to be a little much! Only just last month, she was forced to choose between a trunk show, the Guggenheim Young Collectors Council’s annual Artist’s Ball, and a dinner party at a hedge-fund manager’s lavish home! Horreurs. Happily, she made the right decision and went to the trunk show. “At the event I saw rising It girl Chessy Wilson,” she relates in her inaugural column, “who regaled me with a story about her handbag catching fire earlier that day when she accidentally dropped a lit match into it.” Hahahahaha — barf. But it’s not all clinking and chortling for this real housewife. There is a dark side. “The problem with the New York City social scene is that it sucks you in,” she writes. What, like Michael Alig? Will Tatiana’s addiction to nightlife end in blood and guts and jail?
I was hit with the realization a few months ago that I was beginning to resemble a marginally less awful version of Mrs. X, the self-obsessed mom from The Nanny Diaries. Swanning out the door, invite tucked inside my Chanel handbag, perfumed, lipsticked, and ready for a night of Champagne-fueled fun, I felt conflicted I was starting to feel guilty about leaving my family to fend for themselves.
Oh, Christ. This really is going to be the new thing, isn’t it?