It's no secret that I love the British and all their futile attempts at food preparation, road repair, dental health and morning talk shows. But, all sarcasm aside, there is one thing that my people get right and that is aristocratic condescension in all its iterations. (Is it any wonder I'm such a snob?)The latest demonstration of this exclusivity seems to be the Paper Club bar-lounge-restaurant-bedroom in W1, where supposedly any Londoner can lounge lazily on a bed while sipping G&T's, smoking cigars and reading 'The Financial Times.' Thanks to a friend who is working their PR, I've been informed that the member wait-list for 'civilians' is 1-year long. Open to the public? I'm so sure...not at a place where the News Headlines track celeb sightings.
The tucked-away truth is that 'only those who appear to fit in to the overall look and feel of the new exclusive club will be invited to join with complimentary memberships.' Oh! Those ever-hopeful low-class masses! A place with an 'Untouchable People Lounge' and secret passage under Regent Street is probably not likely to let you in regardless of the lies...er, hype.
I've no doubt I'll make an appearance when I'm next in London.
