For years as a little girl I did not know the exact literal meaning of the word ‘socialite’.
Having seen pictures in the centre pages of magazines, I knew they were pretty, mostly in full make up which looked so natural, nearly always dressed nicely and almost always wore the most enviable jewellery one could imagine.
Honestly, at times I did not even find them pretty, but everyone, in their hi-fi circles thought them ‘beautiful’ or ‘stunning’. Not quite sure if they thought them beautiful or just called them beautiful on their face. But yes the magazines did quote them ‘good looking.’
I also wondered why they took so much pride in being called “Heyy sexy!” Weren’t they annoyed or scared, when someone called them that? Perhaps they did not have to travel in crowded buses, or pass through quiet alleys after dusk, where if they were ever hurled that same phrase, it would have taken life out of their limbs and made them run for their life. So how would they know that?
I also wondered what was it that made them be called ‘socialites’. Did they do social work? But I never saw any mention of that in those glamour magazines they made regular appearances in.
Imagine, I did not even have the common sense to guess they did a lot of social events like throwing birthday parties, barbecues, celebrations, bashes and sometimes even parties without any reasons to earn that title. I wonder perhaps I envied how come they were able to hop from one party to another like butterflies. And how is it that their parties always got coverage in those glossy magazines, when it wasn’t even a fund raiser for a cause?
As a little girl I also wondered, “Didn’t they ever get bored of just enjoying, partying, wearing nice dresses all the time? Weren’t they ever bored of being happy go lucky and smiley all the time?”
“If it is all a hullabaloo because they are rich, then why and how did they get rich?” I always wondered as a little girl.
I was stupid enough not to understand they had rich parents, who let them do all this. But then how could I know this, because my parents weren’t anything close to rich. They didn’t even let me have enough pocket money for buying a puff pastry in the school cafeteria, I just had to suffice with a sasta samosa, that too once in a while.
I actually wondered how their Moms and Dads raised them, “Didn’t they have to study hard to grow up, to be ‘something’ in life?”
I could guess they didn’t have to get good grades in school; just an expensive school’s name where they’ve been was enough of a merit for them.
If there was twitter then, I am sure I would have wondered why they had so many followers while they barely followed back only a hundredth of them.
And the tweets they tweeted were just too ordinary to be given so much attention.
With tweets showing off like
“Went into my helicopter to Las Vegas”,
“Ate a red velvet cake with fresh cream”,
“Wearing a ******** (big brand) pink dress” with a Fickr image of it.
Well I would certainly have wondered how was that 10k dress any better than my pink lace frock I wore on my 6th birthday, which Ammi just tailored herself after buying the lace from a bumper sale.
I would even would have wondered why some serious people were so very concerned to clarify what their tweets meant, when on rare occasions their tweets weren’t that clear and straight forward:
Socialtie: Went to a spa, had a massage and got adjusted.
A follower: Adjusted?
Well, perhaps I wasn’t made of that material to fathom the depth of what a socialite is meant to be. And, understand, I was just a little girl then.
But tell you a secret; I still cannot get the sense of the purpose of this word Socialite.