Gossip Girl

"There's nothing wrong with keeping a secret if the truth will hurt someone."

Serena van der Woodsen

Spotted: B dining with a totally cute guy at Le Louis XV in Monaco. Harold and Roman were nowhere in sight (thankfully!). The cute guy looked like he was in college (score!). S, N and little E bowling at Mattituck Bowling Lanes. N got more gutter balls than you'd imagine. S and E were surprisingly good (losers, cough). In NYC, C eating sushi with a hot female junior publicist at Matsugen. Ugh, puke. D at Duane Reed in Tribeca picking up some prescriptions. He flirted with the pharmacist. WTF? J almost getting hit by a taxi as she sprinted across an intersection in Chelsea. She was carrying a bunch of dresses and looked out of breath. Mortifying.

As you know, when it comes to certain matters (white skirts post Labor Day, underwear as outerwear) I'm hopelessly old fashioned-and I love it that way! But when it comes to communication, I absolutely must be plugged in at all times-whether it's Blackberry blogging in the back of a cab or Facebook friending. But sometimes, a text doesn't take the place of an old-fashioned phone call-or does it?

When you hear a piece of up-to-the-minute gossip do you spill it via text or make a few calls to share it with your friends? And how do you prefer to hear from the gossips in your life?

Sometimes, after an exhausting night on the town, I'll reach for snooze a few times. But eventually, with so many people to do and things to see, I need to face the world. My plan of attack? It's all about the three C's: cleansing, color-coordination and coffee. A long luxurious shower is key-the more products used, the better-followed by picking the perfect pick-me-up outfit from my closet. I top it all off with an extra-large iced cap, the only way to start my day.

So...what's your morning routine?

As all of you know, I'm as feminine as they come, but I can still hang with the boys-provided they're the right kind of boys. But there are some girls who jam-pack their pink Filofaxes with spa days with the girls, missions to Barneys with mom, and marathon mani-pedi sessions, only to appear with a guy when they're fully ready to be picked up at the door and swept off their feet. Then, there are the girls who rock their Sevens with their boyfriend's baseball t-shirt, the girls who drive their own car and always seem to find their own way home. So, which one are you? A guy's girl, girl's girl, or both? And does it matter? No matter what, guys just can't seem to resist . . .

C was seen in Tiffany, picking up another pair of monogrammed cufflinks for a party. Hello? I'm waiting for my invite. B's mother was seen holding hands with her new man in Cartier. Hmmm, when's the wedding? Also seen: a girl bearing a striking resemblance to S, coming out of an STD clinic on the Lower East Side. She was wearing a thick black wig and big sunglases. Some disguise. And very late last night, S was seen leaning out her bedroom window over Fifth Avenue, looking a little lost.

Well, don't jump, sweetie, things are just starting to get good.

That's all for now. Have a good one.
                                              GOSSIP GIRL

Ever wondered what the lives of the chosen ones are really like? Well, I'm going to tell you, because I'm one of them. I'm not talking about beautiful models or actors or musical prodigies or matchematical geniuses. I'm talking about the people who are born to it-those of us who have everything anyone could possibly wish for and who take it all completely for granted.

Welcome to New York City's Upper East Side, where my friends and I live and go to school and play and sleep-somtimes with each other. We all live in huge apartments with our own bedrooms and bathrooms and phone lines. We have unlimited access to money and booze and whatever else we want, and our parents are rarely home, so we have tons of privacy. We're smart, we've inherited classic good looks, we wear fantastic clothes, and we know how to party. Our shit still stinks, but you can't smell it because the bathroom is sprayed hourly by the maid with a refreshing scent made exclusivley for us by French perfumers.

It's a luxe life, but someone's got to live it.