With Christmas already starting to percolate in the back of our minds, it's time to resume the topics about where rich people shop, in case you're anxious to unload a bundle of cash. I'm sure you've heard of Oscar de la Renta - a brand that's been part of our collective history and culture for decades, whether we can afford to shop there or not.
De la Renta became internationally famous during the 1960's as couturier for the elegant Jacqueline Kennedy, and has continued to dress the rich and famous from film stars to royalty to this very day. I believe he has about seventy-five stores now, scattered around the world where the rich congregate. And while haute couture is still offered, his stores also have off-the-rack, ready-to-wear items as well.
But did you know De la Renta's stores are among the very most expensive places on earth to shop? Way up there with the House of Bijan. The reason this comes up tonight - remember I told you the Mister has a new girlfriend? Well, last weekend he took her on a shopping spree to De la Renta's store in New York.
On Monday the upstairs maid Ester accidentally saw the receipt from this little outing in the dressing rooms and reported it immediately to me by text. The total bill was just over thirty-seven-thousand dollars ($37,000) for only twenty-two items.
While this kind of nonchalant spending makes my head spin, it's truly nothing out of the ordinary for the super rich. In fact, if they had stopped by Cartier's or Tiffany's that afternoon, who knows what the day's drop might have been.
But if you're in need of some fancy threads yourself or just want to pick up a few Christmas gifts, here's a link to Oscar de la Renta's extraordinary world.
Thanks for dropping by, and happy shopping!
Andrew
By Andrew Arthur Williams -- A glimpse into the dazzling world of the super rich, from an insider's point of view!
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Thursday, September 5, 2013
The Imperial Faberge Eggs!
Yesterday I had to deliver a gift to one of my employer's friends, and while there the house manager was kind enough to gave me a quick tour of the downstairs.
Although the house was attractive overall it was obviously the work of an interior decorator, with no personal touches from the family to speak of - usually the telltale sign of the new rich. To me these kinds of rooms appear cold and uninviting - like being in an up-scale furniture store rather than a private home.
While I was trying to be polite, you can imagine my shock when I spotted a knock-off copy of a Faberge egg sitting in a prominent place in the formal living room. What on earth? My first rational thought was that the decorator should immediately be thrown into prison and tortured, perhaps even locked in a room full of Alexander Calder mobiles. Plus I was confused as to why the house manager hadn't taken it upon himself to accidentally break this hideous objet d'art years ago.
You see, rich people generally eschew copies of anything - going straight for the original. And failing that, they'll buy something else altogether rather than expose themselves to gossip at having knock-offs sitting around the house.
There were only about fifty Imperial Faberge Eggs created in the first place, by Peter Carl Faberge for the Tsars of Russia. Reportedly only forty-two survive, and these bejeweled eggs are valued in the multi-millions. While a few might be in the hands of a rich private collector, most are cloistered in museums around the world, especially the Kremlin Armoury Museum in Moscow.
Certainly they are not sitting on a coffee table inside the home of a new-rich family.
There are several companies offering Faberge-style eggs, some of them quite expensive, even into the low thousands. And there's nothing wrong with that - as long as they're meant for an obscure shelf somewhere, or perhaps a child's bedroom.
But for prominent display? No, don't do that. Scandal and gossip is the only possible outcome.
Here's a link to images of the Imperial Eggs. Again, each and every one worth millions. Not a bad deal for something that comes out of a chicken's butt.
Thanks for dropping in,
Andrew
Although the house was attractive overall it was obviously the work of an interior decorator, with no personal touches from the family to speak of - usually the telltale sign of the new rich. To me these kinds of rooms appear cold and uninviting - like being in an up-scale furniture store rather than a private home.
While I was trying to be polite, you can imagine my shock when I spotted a knock-off copy of a Faberge egg sitting in a prominent place in the formal living room. What on earth? My first rational thought was that the decorator should immediately be thrown into prison and tortured, perhaps even locked in a room full of Alexander Calder mobiles. Plus I was confused as to why the house manager hadn't taken it upon himself to accidentally break this hideous objet d'art years ago.
You see, rich people generally eschew copies of anything - going straight for the original. And failing that, they'll buy something else altogether rather than expose themselves to gossip at having knock-offs sitting around the house.
There were only about fifty Imperial Faberge Eggs created in the first place, by Peter Carl Faberge for the Tsars of Russia. Reportedly only forty-two survive, and these bejeweled eggs are valued in the multi-millions. While a few might be in the hands of a rich private collector, most are cloistered in museums around the world, especially the Kremlin Armoury Museum in Moscow.
Certainly they are not sitting on a coffee table inside the home of a new-rich family.
There are several companies offering Faberge-style eggs, some of them quite expensive, even into the low thousands. And there's nothing wrong with that - as long as they're meant for an obscure shelf somewhere, or perhaps a child's bedroom.
But for prominent display? No, don't do that. Scandal and gossip is the only possible outcome.
Here's a link to images of the Imperial Eggs. Again, each and every one worth millions. Not a bad deal for something that comes out of a chicken's butt.
Thanks for dropping in,
Andrew
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