It’s an old cliché, but it is still the case that ‘Money Talks’. People – the social pages, the press pack, the rubber-neckers, the wannabes, the high-earners living on the edge of the abyss – attach attributions of all that is good, glamorous and glorious to anyone who accumulates vast wealth and likes to flaunt it. There they are, grinning and schmoozing at the after parties with a glass of wine in their hand; the charity do, the fashion shows, the awards for this-that-and-the-other (oblivious of the travails endured in attaining artistic achievement), photographed for the latest glossy magazines, or the weekly magazine for the London freebies, or in the ‘celeb’ sections between the news and the property section of the free paper to be read by tired commuters on the evening train (featuring apartments in London for which prices could buy an entire block in many European cities). The readers of the sections in which the snaps of these garish folk appear, and their ‘mwah-mwah’ associates only see the glitz and fail to see, or smell, the taint, the dirt; they fail to consider the processes from the first rinse to the spin-and-bleach cycle, the hand in the till, the political connections to enable the kleptocratic activity, which in turn allow these types to buy respectability and live the high life. The new age of Vanity Fair fuels the tacky boutiques of London, and drives up property prices. Smile, then, for the cameras, you crooks, you scoundrels. You’ve bought respectability.
*From: Society: Chelsea (Reflections)