The socialite was the personification of polite society, the embodiment of a collective aspiration to graceful living, though it has become a kind of nostalgia, no longer a living thing, alive only in memory or history, in black and white pictures. When exactly was the decline of the socialite, who once ruled the world from her throne among the ladies who lunched in such hallowed places as The Colony or Le Pavillon in New York City—and at the right table, dressed in Mainbocher or any custom number worthy of a Cecil Beaton portrait, and with just the right company like Truman Capote? The dictionary definition of socialite is lame, “a person who is well-known in fashionable society and is fond of social activities and entertainment.” On the internet, it is still a raging topic, but the questions are even more lame, if not downright stupid, questions like “Is a socialite a social climber? What is the difference between a socialite and a courtesan? Is it a difficult job, being a socialite?” But what is a socialite? “There is no one definitive answer to this,” said a girl named Catriona in an internet forum.
“[It’s] simply a person thrust (sometimes unwillingly) into a particular role. In my case it was something that fell on me when I married a very ambitious man with delusions of social grandeur.” She intimated what being a socialite had been like for her, in retrospect, since her marriage to this “delusional” man had ended.
“My days consisted of worryi.