|OUR CLASS END OF TERM GIFTS FOR THE TEACHERS|
Gone are the days of sending in a scented candle and a thank you note for a job well done! If it was well done. Admittedly, there was a bit of teacher gift hysteria in North London - when my children attended one well-known public school there I was charged with gift-buying one year. A total nightmare. I had to keep a ledger book of all the money I received and of course, there were those who didn't donate. Oh enough, I'm having a panic attack!!!!!
Back to NY Moms. Can you imagine having to get that little lot of pressies together without staff? I noticed on The Real Housewives of NY last night (I'm still in shock after watching a whole episode by the way) that they all have 'staff', whether they work or not. They have interns, i.e telly wannabes happy to hang around in the hope of getting screen-time, not to mention nannies etc. Now, I am terrified that the Moms at my school are going to ask me to be a class rep next year. Where are all my staff when I need them?!! I've thanked all this year's reps but had to go into a news/communication blackout until the end of term in case they decide to ask me. Although I think the moms in both my son's years have it all sewn up anyway and the same ladies take on the job every year. Oh I hope sooooo!!!!
and another thing.....
Everything is so OTT here. Sitting in my hairdresser's this morning, a glam lady was seated behind me having her make-up done. When she left I asked my gorgeous hairdresser if she - Make Up Lady, was an actress because she looked familiar. He said "No darling, she is a South American heiress. She used to go out with Prince Charles but she got kicked out of all those castles for snorting too much cocaine - I've seen the pictures, gorgeous!!!!"
Yours Glamourously in an old-fashioned Jet Set kind of way....New York is so Butterfield 8. It's so 1960s/70s on the Riviera that sometimes I hear that old Robin Sarstedt hit going round in my head, 'Where do you go to my lovely?' A song supposedly written about Sophia Loren, by the way.