I'll bet you no one outside of the cities of origin (and us) can name an old money family.

only because I got a free 6 month perscription to W when I bought something.

But did they read the papers and talk about the dresses and stuff? Nobody does that now.

Nope. We watch awards shows and talk about the dresses and stuff.

Right. Now it's movie stars and not debutantes. Nobody cares about the debs besides their own society anymore.

If the job doesn't have the right cachet or is too many degrees separated from a power source, the offending person is discarded and left to commiserate with the rats.

OH MY GOD YES. A friend of mine used to be a Salon editor, and so when there was this shindig in DC that Salon sponsored, she invited me down. It was a political wonk thing. I remember Arianna Huffington was one of the people. Anywho, it was like a pack of ravenous tigers. And I was peas. Completely and utterly uninteresting to people once they ascertained that I was not a lobbyist or something. Which they'd do within 5 seconds. They didn't even talk to me. My editor friend usually managed to get a couple sentences in before we were rudely ignored. Luckily, there were other vegetables there, so I wasn't bored silly.

My friend started implying she was sleeping with various people. It drew quite the swarm. That was hilarious.

There's a group of Republican women in D.C. who call themselves "Trophy wives in Training."

OMG! You're kidding, right? Please, tell me you're kidding.

The discussion of "class" returns to money very quicky among Americans, you will note.

It is a very different thing, elsewhere. The American Edith Wharton was also interested in this. What separates the "uppercust" from the "well-monied" was an ongoing motif, for her.

And, on some thought, it's probably just as well. I'm not ambitious enough to care.

Whereas I'm ambitious enough to care, but not ambitious enough to redirect myself to compensate.

My parents would have no idea who Tara Reid is or who more than a couple of their local area monied familes are.

I think Oprah is more of a comparison to the stature that old money used to have.

There's a group of Republican women in D.C. who call themselves "Trophy wives in Training."

OMG! You're kidding, right? Please, tell me you're kidding.

Please, this is the town where the Junior League has a storefront in some of the most expensive real estate in the city.

The first thing anyone asks when introduced to someone is, "What do you do?" If the job doesn't have the right cachet or is too many degrees separated from a power source, the offending person is discarded and left to commiserate with the rats.

Ha! True. I spent a summer at the front desk of Very Important Publicity Firm, mostly bored out of my mind. The clients were a mix of big companies and political individuals. Once or twice a week I got to tell a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed young thing to wait, and while he waited, he would chat me up in as naked a "Whom do you know who would be useful to me?" way as possible. It was hilarious!

Of course, during that summer I also spoke on the phone with someone who spelled out his name to me (some complicated travel arrangement), and he spelled it out Yastrzemski, and I was just knowledgeable enough to ask him, "oh, like that baseball player?" and he laughed and said yes. Now, since AFAIK Yaz is still alive, there is the slim possibility that I actually was talking TO that baseball player.

since AFAIK Yaz is still alive

He is.