This weekend I had the pleasure of attending BB’s Fordham Law School Graduation party. This wasn’t just any “let’s meet up at a bar” kind of party, oh no, BB’s fete was probably nicer than any wedding I’ve ever been to and certainly more than mine would be! Apparently BB and her family are up there on the New York Social Register. Her older sister decided to be a socialite instead of getting a job after college… You know, Old Money.

We arrived at the member’s only Metropolitan Club at half past nine o’clock and were greeted in the marble lobby by BB’s Grandmary (I call her that because she was poised and regal and lovely, just like any proper loaded Grandma should be). The club was just straight out of an episode of Gossip Girl, you could picture Serena being annoying in a designer dress and Blair plotting who she will destroy next.

The club itself dates back to the 1890’s. As you know (since all my readers have class), Fifth Avenue and its environs are dotted with the (traditionally men’s) clubs which serviced, and still cater to, the very wealthy. When J.P. Morgan, William and Cornelius Vanderbilt, and their pals arrived on the social scene in the 1890s, established society (old money) still looked askance at bankers and financiers (new money), and its Downtown clubs were closed to Morgan and anyone else it considered less than up to snuff.

JP was like “eff that” and Vanderbilt was like “evs.” So to spite Buffy et al, JP commissioned Stanford White to design his  own club, bigger, better and grander than all the rest – and so the Metropolitan Club at 1 East 60th St was born. It was just the thing for arriving robber barons (and Fordham Law Grads and their friends). Kinda like Smith Point in DC, it’s too cool to even have a website, so sadly I cannot link to it, but I did find this.

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After getting over the fact that Grandmary was cooler than us we plowed into the appetizer spread in the main foyer, it had a Mediterranean theme. The bar was also a first stop, full of top shelf wine, spirits and bubbly. Eventually the crowd meandered into the ballroom, which, amidst its red velvet curtains and grand atmosphere, contained even more libations and culinary delights, including but not limited to a sushi station (complete with a lady in a kimono), a pasta bar, kebab station and of course a filet station. There was plenty of food and drink to go around.

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Mel, Christie, Beesha and I spent much of the early evening people watching and meeting Christie’s other non-socialite Fordham friends and checking out the socialites outfits. BB’s Mother also looked awesome, a blonder version of Grandmary, yet just as poised and polite. We went back and forth to the bar and food stations and admired the décor and atmosphere. The flowers were lovely, BB chose my favorite, peonies.

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As the evening wore on we hit up the dance floor with the crowd, including Mother and Grandmary who both totally knew how to move. Not to be missed as the night drew to a close was the dessert spread, also in the main foyer. Delish, but to mine and Christie’s dismay, no make your own sundae bar, too bourgeois I suppose. Alas.

Also a highlight was when Mel and I climbed the grand staircase so Christie could snap a photo. We needed a few champagnes before the feat was possible, but well worth it. Can you spot us?

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The evening probably ended with an after party at the Palace with Chuck  Bass or the Penthouse at the Gansevoort, but I was just happy to go home and sleep, dreaming of socialites and high society. Someday Lottie, someday…

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