Inherently Unfair

My friend Julie and I were skimming the party photos in Greenwich Magazine today and had a revelation. We're not rich Greenwich housewives because we couldn't imagine marrying any of the men. These two (above) really aren't that bad. You should see the ones with toupées. I think Julie and I would make awesome rich Greenwich housewives. We could tell some seriously funny stories about going to the Big Y grocery in Monroe.

Unfortunately, the only guy we thought was attractive in Greenwich Magazine was a waiter. And let me tell you those photos go on and on and on. I mean there must've been 100+ photos. 
Now the women, that's another story. In fact, it's just unfair what you have to do as a woman to get a rich Greenwich husband.
I would commit hari-kari in my gigantic, Viking range, Sub-Zero kitted out kitchen if I had to wear one of those party dresses. I'd need judiciously placed fly paper to keep my hair from escaping a tight bun. Lipstck, mascara etc? Total disaster.

Greenwich, I'm out.

PS Our convo about the waiter went something like this. Finally. There's a cute one. Hold on. Why is he carrying a tray? Are those bacon-wrapped scallops? He appears to have some kind of biz logo on his shirt. Oh I get it. He's a waiter. Perfect.