Schadenfreude: What “The City” offers CT Socialites

An unwitting Whitney Port prepares to be surprised by the icy winters, and icier demeanor of east coast blue-bloods.

After watching two episodes of MTV’s new “reality” show “The City,” I feel as though I can accurately judge the show enough to make it worth writing about. As any good east coast blue-blood knows, people from California, or anywhere west of Manhattan, are lacking in the class department, and are-sadly-unable to defend themselves when they move here to the land of argyle. They’re so busy going to the beach, and eating sushi that they just have no idea what it means to live in a place like Manhattan, or -once they are ready to have children and stop being subjected to human excrement on their morning commutes-Fairfield County. Therein lies the true drama of “The City.”

A brief synopsis (for those of you who prefer to do unfortunate things like read instead of paying close attention to social clashes and the arrival of pseudo-celebs to our nearby island): “The City” is a show that follows Whitney Port, formerly of “The Hills” and work-BFF of Lauren Conrad, to her new fake job as PR-something or other at the offices of Diane Von Furstenberg. Whit, being born and raised in L.A., seems like your typical cute as a button, blond haired, naïve Cali girl, which leads me to believe NYC will unmercifully eat her alive. I am hoping so anyway, because that would make for better television, as Whit’s actually kind of boring.

Aside from watching sweet, live-and-let-live Whitney being eaten alive by piranhas (otherwise known as New York’s liberal elite) “The City” offers the younger women of Fairfield County something that “The Real House Wives of New York” offers to their mothers: a chance to feel like you are once again part of NYC’s society scene. While the grand dames of Greenwich get to watch and scoff as that skeletal Alex woman clamors for coverage on The Times’ style pages, the party girls of SoNo can laugh as Whitney tries to figure out who’s who, and whether it’s better to be a “downtown hipster” or an “uptown social,” as the show puts it.

Regardless, let’s turn our scorn to her more annoying sidekicks Erin Lucas and Olivia Palmero for a moment. A recent post has uncovered who this Erin chick actually is, allowing us all to breathe a sigh of relief. Turns out she’s no one really important anyway. Ha! Well, unless you count being the daughter of AC/DC bassist Cliff Williams “important,” which I assure you, it is not. By my estimation the only social ladder this will help her climb will be the one that tragedy known as Kayley Gable appeared to have fallen off of back in October. Erin does, however, have a gorge apartment in Gramercy, where Whit has been crashing on the couch. So far those are the only notable things about Erin.

Olivia Palermo, on the other hand, is a bit more complicated to explain. She fancies herself to be somewhat of a socialite, although numerous blogs (GuestOfaGuest, Gawker) would beg to differ. I, however, am still undecided on the matter. I mean, she appears to be a well-dressed, pampered, pearl-wearing, bitchy upper-east-sider, which makes me think we may have been separated at birth and I should track her down, so we can throw dinner parties, and sip on cosmos together. But there is a down side: she has gotten such a bad wrap as a fame-obsessed camera whore it makes me wary. If I can’t trust aforementioned internet sites for trustworthy gossip reporting then who can I trust?! WHO?!

Sigh. Well, while the verdict remains out on Palermo the show itself gets a Prissy Bitch seal of approval for involving three of my favorite things: fashion, NYC, and the promise of many cat fights to come. So stay tuned my pets, for the destruction of a young California girl’s big city dreams and for my thoughts on the whole unfortunate, yet hilarious situation.

“The City” gets two salt-shakers, because there isn’t much saltier than a pissed off socialite.