When I was 27, I had a roommate named Gabriella. The day we met, we instantly hit if off and she moved into my doorman apartment building on Sutton Place the following day. On the short side with a little plumpness, she was 26 but looked nineteen. Raised in Connecticut, her father was Italian and her mother from Liechtenstein. They gave her a nice middle class upbringing and sent her off to college in Switzerland.
Gabriella became my roommate. Gabriella became my party friend. Gabriella became my introducer to the EUROTRASH and SOCIALITE WORLD.
(Wikipedia definition of Eurotrash: Applied to European visitors to North America who are thought to make self aggrandizing claims of wealth, status, or nobility.)
These were new groups I had not yet explored. Most of my friends were creative media types, actors and investment bankers so this was all exciting for me!
Apparently, Gabriella’s contacts in New York City were mostly ex-college friends from Switzerland who were mostly trust fund babies. We hung out especially with her two friends, Laura and Katherine. Laura was a nice Jewish American Princess. She was very proud to announce that she was a JAP. Her grandmother had something to do with NYU Medical Center. I think she owned part of the building or something. When I first met Laura, she showed up at our door wearing her Prada knapsack and holding two Tosca dresses that her grandmother had bought for her. She preferred eating out at chic restaurants on the Upper East Side.
Then there was Katherine. I wasn’t sure about her accent but it sounded like she tried to sound British. Her family home was in South Hampton and she lived in a small studio apartment in Trump Tower. You know how some people just look like horseback riders? Well she was one of them. You can just imagine her galloping around in a Calvin Klein ad.
During the daytime when I was at my job at Warner Brothers, Gabriella babysat for a local three-year-old. Her main job was to take the kid to and from the Montessori school across the street and teach her to swim in the penthouse pool. Now that I look back, she was really a nanny but paid babysitter wages.
After a long work week I looked forward to Friday nights. When I’d get home, we’d scarf down our dinners, and dress up to go party. The flavor one summer was Aubar, considered a Eurotrash club. One Wednesday night, bored out of our minds we decided to hit Aubar’s. There weren’t many people in the club, just a swarm of people on the dance floor. Gabriella and I were standing near the bar when we were approached by a group of Eurotrash guys. Shouting through the “Macarena” song I found out they were pretty young, like maybe nineteen or twenty. One wanted to buy me a drink and so he took out a wad of fifties. We’ll call him Pablo, the kind teen. When it was time to go home, Pablo insisted on paying for a limo to take us home. We only were a ten minute drive away but hey, it was a free limo ride so what the hell. He gave the driver a fifty and waved goodbye as Gabriella and I drank champagne inside the plush interior. I remember her turning to me and beaming, “See? This is what I’m used to!”
I nodded and drank my glass. I was thinking, “This is what it must feel like to be a call girl.”
When we were out with Katherine, we always went to Frederick’s. The girl practically lived there because we had a reserved table waiting for us all the time. Once people were sitting at the table and the waiters shoo’ed them off. I didn’t even feel bad. Screw you suckers, I’m with the Socialite gang. I soon got used to this VIP treatment a couple of years later when I never again had to pay to get into clubs and I was given my own reserved tables. Until you experience this, you won’t know. VIP treatment is like an addiction. Once you taste it, you can’t go back.
Eventually, I got sick of Gabriella constantly fawning over her Socialite friends. They were nice and all but the girl needed some perspective. She so wanted to be a trust fund baby but her parents weren’t rich enough. I remember she once spent two week’s salary to buy a Moschino wallet. Now everytime I see the label Moschino I think of her.
interesting,enough, but it’s not very well written. could be tightened up. I liked the line about this must be what if feels like to be a call girl. good luck with this.
cheryl courtney, February 11 2007nope does nothing for me ……badly written and predictable BUT I couldn’t do any better
steph, February 12 2007I liked the same line about, what it must be like to feel like a call girl also..It was actually the most witty part of the whole story. Interesting..I wonder what ever happened to Gabriella? Maybe married with 3 kids to a commoner…That would be even funnier.
Angel, February 12 2007
I am hooked. I would like to hear more stories please. This sounds very interesting.
Petra, February 9 2007