Man About Town

There's a famous anecdote about F. Scott Fitzgerald in which he remarked that "the rich are different." Ernest Hemingway shot back with the witty reply: "Yeah, they have more money." What might have been a joke then seems frighteningly apt these days. We live in a weird world. What ever "class struggle" we've had seems to have gotten all mixed up. The fabulously rich have either vanished or joined a witness-relocation plan—and the middle class (that's us, folks) looks and acts more fabulously wealthy every day. As for the less fortunate? We've so marginalized the poor that we scarcely consider them anymore.I thought about this a few weeks ago as I window-shopped in San Francisco. In one store, a mannequin wore a pair of sequined, python Capri pants and a mad, fuzzy, champagne-colored coat that wasn't exactly a fur, but was more than a sweater. I don't know what the hell it was, and I'm supposed to know about these things. Three-inch, stiletto-heeled strappy sandals and a jeweled handbag completed the "must-have" look. I laughed out loud. "Where in the name of God could someone wear this?" I shouted. Out loud.I feel bombarded by glamooour. Prada skis and Gucci dog-food bowls. I'm not kidding. Couture outfits for toddlers and spend-the-night parties at F.A.O. Schwarz for a measly $17,000. Why not? Forty-foot Humvee limos? I'll take two!Nowadays, everyone wants what's comin' to 'em, and they want it now. Luxury used to be just that: a luxury. Prized. Special. Unique. Hard to attain. Not anymore. You want lobster? No problem. But what's the difference between the entree at The Palm and the one from Red Lobster? Apparently even lobsters are in the middle of a class struggle.The dot.com/dot.bomb revolution has a lot to answer for. Take the recent Banana Republic in-store campaign. Please! Take it! Out of the window and into the trash can! "Start with cashmere, arrive in luxury." Lord help us. When it comes to Banana Republic, I want to "start with underwear and arrive with a new windbreaker." I love my "Gianni Republic" clothes precisely because of the style and price point. Face it, the life expectancy is exactly one season. Which suits me fine. What I don't need, however, is disposable cashmere. Affordable luxury. Arrgh.Who's behind this onslaught? Some of the guiltiest names are the most familiar. And it ain't "affordable." Log on to eluxury.com and your eyes will be pummeled by some of the world's most familiar brand logos. And after only five minutes of downloading, you, too, can soon be ordering men's sheer underwear for only $32 a pair and have a near-porn experience in the process.Or perhaps you'll opt for the ugly cashmere Feragamo sweater for only $1,400. What does it look like in the light? What does it feel like? Who cares? My favorite question box for online ordering is pre-set on what is undoubtedly the most popular answer for where this lovely garment should be sent: "myself." "Send it to myself!" the box screams, and I imagine mad billionaires clicking away with wild abandon. No wonder so many of them are badly dressed.A quick trip through the other luxury online sites was not as much fun as my old jaunts through the Neiman Marcus Christmas catalog. The stakes are too high these days. Gold-plated helicopters don't excite me as much as they used to.I chatted with famed retailer Jeffrey Kalinsky (of Jeffrey, New York and Atlanta) and even he's a little horrified. It's one thing to offer rows of Helmut Lang and Jil Sander for the most chic men and women in the universe, I suppose, but quite another when your niece tells you what she wants for Christmas. "She found it in the F.A.O. Schwarz catalog," he told me. "It was an outdoor theater for kids. For $14,500! I hope she was kidding! What's wrong with that store?"Kalinsky, for his part, has no plans to go online. He seems content with building a retail empire by offering truly luxury items to a select clientele for whom service remains a priority. Ah, service. Talk about luxury!I don't think this luxury online thing is going to last. I have a hard time imagining, for example, famed international socialite Anne Slater hunched over a laptop in her East Side showplace. Will she ever gaze through her trademark cobalt-blue lenses at a Web site to order a new diamond cuff bracelet? I don't think so.After all, this is the woman whose most famous quote is: "Every woman needs four animals in her life: a mink in the closet, a jaguar in the driveway, a tiger in bed and an ass to pay for it all."Now that's fabulously wealthy!

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Man About Town

Neilan Tyree

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Neilan Tyree