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UPDATE: For those of you who every now again whiff through ATB via Googling Plum Sykes' book Bergdorf Blondes, thinking you have just been the first to discover Mount Everest, and accuse me of copying her idea, please note that my post is very much inspired by Plum's original book, and wherever you feel she should get full credit, I unreservedly give it. But before you get your knickers (La Perla or not) in a twist, take a good dose of a mild tranquilizer like Xanax, and chill....After all, for a Bergdorf Blonde like myself, Plum's idea is based on the originals in the first place....
Every now and again we have to take a rest from the hustle and bustle of politics. In the absence of any pressing news these days -- other than Iran's nuclear weapons development crisis, the election of Hamas terrorists in Palestine, ongoing worldwide Muslim riots and killing in reaction to a cartoon, Al Gore's near sedition while speaking in Saudi Arabia, the turning over of our East Coast ports to be managed by a United Arab Emirates firm, the criminal leaking of vital NSA secrets to the New York Times, Mexican military incursions across our southern border, the Iraqi crisis, Congress's refusal to deal with the developing financial collapse of Social Security and Medicare, inter alia -- All Things Beautiful has decided to grant the wish of it's fashionista fans ( who have still not forgiven me for entirely missing Fashion Week), and speak of some more important matters.
Defending the Bergdorf Blondes' social status has become a favorite party line, especially as the Bergdorf Blondes have always been the New York craze. Everyone either knows one, wants to be one, or actually is one. I have written this for the aspirational BBs who need some insider advice on how to proceed. It is a Saturday after all, and we need to chill....
You wouldn't believe the dedication it takes to be a gorgeous, flaxen haired, dermatologically perfect New York girl with a life fabulous beyond belief. Honestly, it all requires a level of commitment comparable to say, learning Hebrew or quitting cigarettes.
Well it all starts with hair color. A murderous commitment required, which a chemically dependent girl like myself is all too familiar with, the blond color must be touched up every seven days, and the hair cannot have a hint of yellow, it has to be very white, very much like Carolyn Bessette Kennedy's was. This is the color to be worshiped and maintaining it cannot involve anything less than the weekly visit to your nearest Redken salon, and a standing appointment with the über-guru Redken Fifth Avenue colorist.
The high maintenance poker-straight blond hair has to be complimented by a weekly visit to Sonia at Bergdorf's for the absolutely essential eyebrow trim, together with the perfect manicure and pedicure by Madonna both essential to maintaining the look.
Narci-surfing, as it is now called (used to be called Googling yourself) is the best way to keep up with how your status is doing in the media. Gossip being the most reliable source of information about yourself and your friends in Manhattan, one mustn't allow oneself to get to the renowned 'Fargo' stage.
Loosely translated it is a debilitating condition often appearing after a stint of Narci-surfing, from which almost all Manhattan girls suffer. The term is borrowed from the well known movie, and is an excellent description of a state of mind of a Bergdorf blond usually precipitating a large social gathering, and involving all the insecurities that go with the pressures of having to keep up with the BBs.




















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