My outrage over this arbitrary and unilateral course of action is probably only exceeded by Mr/Mrs Spilker's sense of entitlement that the four-foot wide path to the beach (and specified in the local easement papers) 'was just not wide enough for us' as he said when first broaching the subject of arbitrarily widening a path that was 'in compliance' with the local zoning.

Hamptons Hedges Hullabaloo [Portfolio]

My wife and I recently became obsessed with a Web site where you plug in the amount of money you made in a year and find out where you stand. If your salary equaled the amount of money my wife and I gave Planned Parenthood one year, you'd be in the richest 1 percent in the world, which is pretty great. Still, there would be 60 million people richer than you, and that's a lot. They wouldn't fit in your home, for example, even though you'd have the sort of home that only the top 1 percent of people in the world can afford.

We can sympathize; as frequent self-Googlers, we can only imagine the joy of constantly being reaffirmed that you're extremely loaded. Must temper the sting of knowing that some other people have more. Still, Handler isn't an easy touch: When a San Francisco philanthropist asked him to donate $5 million toward the preservation of a local historic building, Handler winced.

This is why, maybe, there are so many noble causes and so few of them are well financed: we all want other people to write the checks — they're richer than we are. I wrote the guy a check anyway, of course, and it was for a lot of money. At least, I think it was a lot of money. You'd have to ask those other people, the hundred thousand who make more than I do and the 60 million who make more than I gave to restore the historic building: isn't this a lot of money? Then why does it feel as if I bought him a beer?

Adjusted Income [NYT]

Lorena Bendinskas, co-founder of entertainment marketing company The Silver Spoon, which organizes the annual Dog and Baby Hollywood Buffet charity event, says postpartum purchases make moms feel good. "Buying a nice diaper bag or personalized pacifier," she says, "makes moms who aren't feeling 100% ... focus on something more positive."

Hippest Baby Bling [Forbes]

The charter company Revolution Air has assigned more than 20 private jets to fly children to summer camp at the end of June, at a cost of about $8,000 a flight. To cater to their young clients, the company has developed a special menu, including peanut butter-and-jelly sandwiches, chicken fingers and ice-cream sundaes.

One of the shortest trips the company has booked is 45 minutes from West Hampton to Saranac Lake. "The last request we got was for someone who wants to go to camp on June 25," [company President Ronald Goldstein] said, adding that the kid has requested Cap'n Crunch be served. Charlotte Morello, of Connecticut, has organized a birthday party for her 9-year-old daughter, Meredith, on a private jet next month. "All her cousins will come onto the plane," Morello said. "We'll have a manicurist and a model on the runway theme."

Jet Kids [NYP]

More Than Ever, It Pays to Be the Top Executive [NYT]

[H]aving a part-time house can be a full-time commitment, in the same way that owning a sailboat is commonly described as "standing in a shower and ripping up hundred-dollar bills." These second, but never secondary, houses can be exhausting, their owners admit, a litany of bills and guilt and traffic — and meals to cook for guests who arrive with only one wish: to be entertained.

So, is owning such a place more a case of agony or ecstasy, joy or despair?

The Tyranny of the 2nd Home [NYT]

With his new BlackBerry, a junior at the Dalton School on the Upper East Side, Matthew Ressler, said he plans to keep track of his homework assignments, exam dates, basketball practices, and volunteer activities. "I think it will keep me better organized, and I won't have as many missed appointments," Matthew, 17, said of the device, a recent birthday gift from his mother. "It's really like you're organizing a professional career."

Matthew said that in recent months, many of his Dalton classmates have replaced their paper calendars with so-called personal digital assistants, or PDAs. Students are not supposed to use such devices in class, he said, but many teachers don't enforce that rule. "You say, 'This is my planner,' and they say, 'That's fine,'" he said.

Last weekend, an ambulance trying to get to St. Vincent's hospital was held up for more than five precious life-saving minutes as drivers for wealthy patrons slowly inched their limos out of the way. One cop tells us that wasn't the first time it happened.

LIMO BLOCKAGE [NYP]
[Image via]

Getting Territorial Out In The Hall [NYT]

An owner of Designer Loft, a bridal shop in Manhattan's garment district, Paulette Cleghorn, said in recent years she's seen an influx of women "with an enlightened sense of fashion" picking out two wedding dresses.

"They want to look a little more parent-appropriate for the ceremony, and they feel more comfortable showing off their bodies at the reception," she said. "A dress covered in thousands of Swarovski crystals may not be appropriate for the ceremony, but in a candlelit reception hall makes for the most exquisite bride ever."

Well, there's the ethnic contingent: "It's common for American women of Asian, Indian, and Arab descent to opt to wear a Western-style white gown, and a colorful Eastern-style design on their wedding day," we helpfully learn. Okay, them aside! Who else?

At her September 2005 wedding at the Palace Hotel on Madison Avenue, New Yorker Lourdes Cohen, now 25, wore two Monique Lhuillier dresses.

When she took her vows, she wore a short-sleeve, full-length white lace gown with a gold sash. Later, for the reception and afterparty, also held at the Palace, she changed into a high-collar, lowback white minidress. "It was still white, it was still lace, and I still was obviously the bride, but I was able to dance the night away," Mrs. Cohen, a non-practicing lawyer, said.

Dressed to Wed, Dressed to Party [NYS]

[Image via]

At the Puck Building last night, then, the crowd was comprised of a rather jaw-dropping list of names—the writers and their patrons both—as well as the anonymous rich, the women identifiable only by their Chanel suits and the men by their horn-rimmed glasses. One tended to overhear conversations that began: "When [so-and-so] was on the board of the New York Public Library..."

At a table in the corner, Mayor Michael Bloomberg chatted with Norman Mailer. Salman Rushdie put on a brave, Padma Lakshmi-less face. Paris Review editor and New Yorker writer Philip Gourevitch mingled, as did his wife, New Yorker writer Larissa MacFarquhar. A frail-looking Joan Didion was surrounded protectively by a shifting coterie of women, as if she might break in two or melt away. Former Massachusetts Governor Bill Weld looked none the worse for wear after his embarrassing aborted attempt at running for the governorship of New York. A jeans-clad Dana Vachon spoke to men twice, perhaps three times, his age, presumably about the follies and foibles of The Street. Nathaniel Rich (son of Frank, brother of Simon) is an editor at the magazine, which has a very small masthead. "You've met practically one-third of us," he remarked, in conversation with this reporter and one of the Review's interns. Another reporter was covering the party for the Harvard alumni magazine 02138, on account of so many of the magazine's editors and affiliates having gone to that institution. The Review's late, great founder, George Plimpton, was of course a Harvard man himself, though one can only assume that he, like so many of his fellow Crimson, modestly told people he went to school "in Boston."

Midway through the cocktail hour, Mr. Gourevitch (Cornell, 1986) took the podium to try to quiet down the crowd so the Mayor could say a few words about Norman Mailer, the evening's honoree. "We have a lot in common," the Mayor said, referring to himself and Mr. Mailer. "We're both from middle-class Jewish families. We both attended Harvard—he went to the College, I went to the Business School—and we're both distinsguished authors." Laughter. "And we've both run mayoral campaigns." The Mayor said that Mr. Mailer had had two buttons when he campaigned. One said "I would sleep better if Norman Mailer were mayor." The other said "No more bullshit." Then the Mayor said he had used his senior citizens' Metrocard to get to the affair, and as such, it had only cost him $1. "I suggest that everyone become a senior citizen," he remarked. Much of the crowd, it appeared, already had. A long line of Town Cars idled outside however.

We were not invited to stay for dinner, so on our way out we peeked into one of the gift bags arrayed neatly on a table by the entrance. In a Paris Review tote bag were the Spring issue of the magazine (perhaps partygoers had not yet gotten around to reading it?); a copy one of Mr. Mailer's novels, Harlot's Ghost, which is about the CIA; a Paris Review T-shirt (American Apparel, size large); and various other promotional items (a nip of whiskey, a calendar, etc.). The tote would be perfect to bring along to Nantucket this summer. —Doree

The Paris Review Revel Gallery

The claim cites Bronfman's "track record of proven operational success" with the integration of Universal Music and Polygram. Is it possible that Snyder's lawyers accidentally undermined their own contentions? Weird!

In any case, Bronfman's lawyer says in a statement today that the suit's claims are all "absolute fiction. Simply put, Dick Snyder did not work on the Warner Music Group transaction and there was never an agreement to compensate him for anything. Following Dick Snyder's departure from Golden Books, Edgar Bronfman Jr. provided him free office space. This is a case of no good deed going unpunished... We look forward to our day in court and are confident we will prevail." See you there then! —emily

Earlier: Rich Man Sues Even Richer Man For $100 Million

"Did [Seinfeld] plan to reduce her own carbon footprint by selling off a few of her possessions? 'What I have and what I don't have is not something I talk about,' she said." But Barnett was, perhaps ill-advisedly, more honest with herself and the reporter. "Concerned with carbon emissions, she is about to replace the Barnetts' two family cars with hybrids. 'I turn the water off when I'm brushing my teeth,' she said. 'I'm always learning, I'm always trying to improve.' Still, she has no plans to reduce the family's significant carbon footprint by, say, selling the Manhattan second home. 'I'm not a perfect person,' she said. 'I'm not the greenest woman in America.'" It's almost as if Ruth was trying to make these women look foolish! That's so not in the spirit of Earth Day. We all of us do what we can. —Emily

The Cream Is Cleaning Green [NYT]

Take the nannies:

Mrs. Kargman wasn't raised with nannies, and she doesn't have an army of them. "Even if we could afford 24/7 live-in help, I'd never do it. It's alone time with the kids I treasure," she said. Their nanny, Jacky, works 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. on weekdays, which enables Mrs. Kargman to work from home, usually between three and four hours a day.

Then there's her children's education:

One lesson she took from her upbringing is to use New York as a third parent. "My parents were constantly taking us to shows on and off Broadway. They took us to every single ZIP code," Mrs. Kargman said.

Mrs. Kargman is following that example, taking Sadie to everything from "Phantom of the Opera" to the Fairway in Red Hook, where they enjoy the view of New York harbor... Sadie takes ballet and a music class. "She is obsessed with ballet," Mrs. Kargman said. "Music, we sit on the floor, it's one teacher with a guitar. It's very mellow, and that's a good tip: The mellow classes attract mellow moms."

In the book, the momzillas have their toddlers booked solid. Mrs. Kargman likes the idea of less structure. "If you're so overprogrammed, you don't have time to imagine things and you end up more robotic. People who are so psycho controlling of their kids wind up with kids that don't have a personality. They're lumps," she said.

Facing the Momzillas—And Winning [NYS]

Featuring large, eye-catching photography, photo galleries and videos, the site will include such features as Honeymoon Hotspots and homes from the wealthiest ZIP codes.

Eh. Who are we kidding. We'll just sit here making stupid comments about Lindsay Lohan while a small fraction of the population takes in an ever-bloating amount of the world's financial resources. You can sleep safely on your 800-thread count sheets tonight, richies! We're too indolent and pacified to either join you or kill you. —balk

CNNMoney.com Launches Luxury Channel [MediaPost]

Riding up the elevator with this late twentysomething female blogger was Tina Brown, who was discussing her new book about Princess Diana with another party guest; upon arrival in Mrs. Mosbacher's apartment, one was quickly offered champagne in a cut crystal flute, as well as a dainty linen napkin, by a handsome young man in a tuxedo.

"Are you friends of Christo?" a woman said, in Italian, to a small group of guests who had set themselves up in the library. They were picking at the chocolate bonbons and cocktail nuts. On Mrs. Mosbacher's desk, whose surface is covered in green leather, is a book entitled "Adam's Favorite Trip to France." Each page is a photograph of Adam in various places around the country, with an accompanying sentence, like "Adam enjoys eating in his favorite restaurant very much." Adam is Mrs. Mosbacher's dog.

A waiter came around, offering pigs in a blanket. On a large round table in the dining room were other snacks: Spring rolls, several varieties of caramel and chocolate-flavored popcorn, a massive crystal chalice filled with shrimp cocktail, and in the center, an untouched chocolate cake with the image of Mr. Buckley's book created in frosting.

Soon, the guests were instructed to gather in the living room, where Mrs. Mosbacher—who goes by the last name of her third husband, Robert, a businessman who was the Secretary of Commerce under George Bush the First, and to whom she is no longer married—was going to give a speech in honor of Mr. Buckley. Mrs. Mosbacher was wearing a flowy shirt over leggings and open-toed mules, and a large gold crucifix on a gold chain around her neck. Her hair is copper-red. She is the CEO of the cosmetics company Borghese, and she seems to use their products prodigiously. She is also co-chair of the finance committee of the Republican National Committee.

In her speech, Mrs. Mosbacher said how so thrilled she was to have this party in honor of Mr. Buckley and his wonderful new book, and mentioned his girlfriend, the very tall, very 28-year-old Jolie Hunt, who is the Global Director of Corporate & Business Affairs at IBM. Then Mr. Buckley had the floor. He asked how this night was different from all other nights, which elicited a chuckle from the crowd. Despite the quirk of the party's being scheduled on the first night of Passover, Mr. Buckley said that in fact, his Jewish editor and publicist were there. His Jewish editor is Jonathan Karp of Twelve Books, an imprint of the Hachette Book Group, whose mission is "to publish the singular book, by authors who have a unique perspective and compelling authority." Mr. Buckley praised his girlfriend for helping him write the book, especially getting the whole late-twenties thing right. After the speeches the Jews in the room mostly rushed for the elevator. There was still time before sunset to get to a seder.

And so, the WASPs left in the room—and Joan Collins, who was wearing a leopard-print raincoat and a leopard-print shirt, and posed for pictures—continued sipping champagne and white wine. Taki Theodoracopulos kissed Ms. Collins. A blonde woman of a certain age was complimented on her jacket, which she said was vintage. She had purchased it at a shop on South Beach where she buys all her vintage clothing. A woman proclaimed that she had been Spy magazine's first receptionist, and freelance journalist Lloyd Grove said he and Mr. Buckley were friends from way back. A young reporter from Vanity Fair was holding two copies of the book, one of which he needed autographed for "his boss." Introductions were offered to Mr. Buckley, and he expressed surprise that a woman who exactly fit his narrator's demographic profile not only existed, but was standing right there in front of him. —doree

[T]he letdown may also reflect a shattering of the myth that a room is more than just a room. "There is a place where I unconsciously believed that remodeling the kitchen would remodel my life," said Ms. Marquiss of Baltimore. But it didn't. "The kitchen was done, but I was still me and Michael was still Michael."

The New Kitchen Is Done. So Why Can't I Be Happy? [NYT]

Inside Stephen Schwarzman's Birthday Bash [Dealbook]

In the seven weeks since the agreement, those involved in the case have filed bills with Justice John E. H. Stackhouse of State Supreme Court in Manhattan for fees totaling about $3 million for the services of 56 lawyers, 65 legal assistants, 6 accountants, 5 bankers, 6 doctors, 2 public relations firms and a law school professor.

In Aftermath of Astor Case, How Final Fees Piled Up [NYT]
Earlier: 104-Year-Old Socialite Treated Like 104-Year-Old Commmoner

Unfortunately, we can not put together a picture based on the statistical data of how they spend their time, though we know that only a few are working full-time. Some undoubtedly volunteer their time, spend time at vacation spots, or work at jobs that pay relatively low wages, such as docents in art museums or other rewarding pursuits. There are very few surveys that would have enough information to even begin to depict the idle rich.

The Idle Rich [Gotham Gazette via Daily Intelligencer]
Earlier: Socialite Rank Revealed, Sort Of

The CEO of a Fortune 500 company was the target of a six-figure extortion plot hatched by a woman who first met the businessman online and then later threatened to go public with details of his extramarital affairs, The Smoking Gun has learned. According to an FBI agent, the New York executive acknowledged that on "multiple occasions" he trolled for women on Craigslist and a second site "devoted to bringing together attractive women and wealthy men who were seeking romantic relationships." It was during the CEO's time on Craigslist earlier this year that he met Jessica Wolcott, a 22-year-old who pleaded guilty last week to extorting $125,000 from the executive. According to a detailed U.S. District Court complaint (a copy of which you'll find below), Wolcott began sending the executive threatening e-mails in August, warning that unless he paid $125,000, she would tell his wife that "you've been looking for a fill in for her...After all these years of being married this is how you repay your vows? You are disgusting." Using the alias "cheater_eater," Wolcott (pictured above) wrote in an August 11 e-mail that after she went public with her allegations, the executive would "become just another hated Peter Cook," a reference to Christie Brinkley's estranged husband, who reportedly cheated on the model with a 19-year-old woman.

The executive identified by TSG as the extortion victim did not respond to an e-mail seeking comment about the Wolcott case. It seems that Wolcott used some of the money ($9200) to buy a used car on eBay. She was the winning bidder in an April auction for a 2001 Saab convertible coupe, which she drove to New York from California, where the seller lived, according to eBay records. Susanne Brody, Wolcott's lawyer, described her client as a "young girl who has not had an easy life," adding, "I think the real question is why a corporate executive with a wife and beautiful kids is online trying to meet young girls."

Wolcott, who is free on bail, is scheduled to be sentenced in February on a felony count of interstate transmission of threats. As part of her plea, Wolcott has to forfeit the $125,000 in shakedown payments and an Apple laptop computer.

Fortune 500 CEO In Sex Extortion [TSG]

But some traders say the emotional troubles run deeper than money. "When traders read about massive bonuses, the leveraged buyouts and the millions of dollars changing hands, it just compounds their depression," says an alarmed Lasher.

Laid-Off Traders Are Now Shrink-Rapt [NYP]

Earlier: 'Times' Still Concerned About Not-So-Obscenely Wealthy

Behavior is gradually changing in the Glassman household, too. Not that the doctor and his wife, Denise, 41, seem to crave change. Nothing in his off-the-rack suits, or the cafes and nondescript restaurants that he prefers for interviews, or the family's comparatively modest four-bedroom home in suburban Short Hills, N.J., or their two cars (an Acura S.U.V. and a Honda Accord) suggests that wealth has altered the way the family lives. But it is opening up "choices," as Mrs. Glassman put it. They enjoy annual ski vacations in Utah now. The Glassmans are shopping for a larger house — not as large as the family could afford, Mrs. Glassman said, but large enough to accommodate a wood-paneled study where her husband could put all his books and his diplomas and "feel that it is his own." Right now, a glassed-in porch, without book shelves, serves as a workplace for both of them.

Very Rich Are Leaving the Merely Rich Behind [NYT]
This year's multi-part Times series: the difficulties of only being able to afford a single Ferrari [Seth Mnookin]

Earlier: 'Times' Fomenting Class War Between Least Neediest

We're one piece away from the all-important "three makes a trend" rule, but these two stories, the first from Sunday's Times, the second from today's, seem to presage a coming conflict between the least-appreciated members of our society: people with enough cash to buy and sell you five times over. Who to pity more: The merely rich, with their fancy cars and decent health care and private schools, or the superrich, who must contend with the envy of their financial inferiors with only the cold comfort of a yacht stuffed with thousand dollars bills and houses in multiple locations? We're going to save our sympathy for the hard-working journalists who have to churn out crap like this. Now excuse us: we've got to run to the deli, where the coffee is under two dollars.

A New Class War: The Haves vs. the Have Mores [NYT]
In Web World, Rich Now Envy the Superrich [NYT]

When it is your husband's event, you don't leave the house without first checking what he wants you to wear - something best done days in advance in case you don't possess a pair of cargo pants, or a Ralph Lauren polo shirt or your black-tie dress is too glitzy or too revealing and you are in danger of looking too attention-grabbing.

More trouble in more paradise (and NOT Tinsley and Topper's). One of the town's more social young couples, big bucks, very Old Line family, have been on the skids and heading toward the divorce courts. It was assumed that the guilty party was the wife, something of a citron presse, another one of those girls big on the social circuit and often solo. But, there's a third party — a girl in hubby's soup, so to speak — a very well known girl, very, in the midst of having her own famous divorce and a recently linked with a famous tycoon.

According to Berkman, there are many mommies like her who crave the thrill of discovering "the domestic-help diamond in the rough." But be warned — by Berkman's own admission, the job isn't perfect for every dilettante:

Recently, we were dumped after one weekend by a social work graduate student who wrote in a farewell e-mail that working for us would be "too psychologically intense."

In Pursuit of the Perfect Sitter [NYSun]

Well, there there are "lofts with their vast expanses of wall on which to hang paintings," among other amenities. Consequently, Jay decides that he doesn't want to linger on the passe — who knew?— UES either: the end of the article finds him happily namedropping and social-climbing in a whole new zip code:

"We waved to at least a half-dozen of [my new rich fiancee Anne Hearst's*] friends, admired some major jewelry, winced at some unsuccessful surgery, and talked about acquaintances at nearby tables, people whose names regularly appear in W and Avenue and Quest, none of whom appeared to have any desire to be anywhere else."

*he coyly refuses to reveal her identity in the article — calls her a "post-deb with a venerable surname," which to our mind is worse than just droppin' the name already.
The Death of the (Idea of The) Upper East Side [NYMag]

Internship for New, San Francisco-based Magazine (financial district) [Craigslist]

Conde Nast, already putting finishing touches on the first test issue of Vogue Living, is rolling out another special in an extension of its Golf Digest titles: Golf Digest Index. Only subscribers with household incomes above $320,000 will receive 'Golf Digest Index.' The new title, which will be sent to 300,000 of Golf Digest's wealthiest readers next month and come out again twice next year, eschews golf instruction and celebrities of the sport in favor of — you guessed it — lifestyle coverage, all the better to attract luxury advertisers, a key base for most of Conde Nast's titles.

And now let's all have of moment of silence in sympathy for all the poor sons of bitches who subscribe to Golf Digest and only make $310,000 a year. Is there to be no luxury mag for them? Life is so unfair.

'Golf Digest' Finds a Way to Fit in at Conde Nast [AdAge]