Society Papers

EXTRAORDINARY PEOPLE.         EXTRAORDINARY NEWS

Dearest gentle reader,

Pride is a curious fellow, an emotion walking on the thin line of flaw and virtue. Who but everyone has not felt proud in their lives? Some have never felt more prideful when reading a hymn about themselves, no matter how short it has been. Others might feel the virtue blossoming in their bosom in companion with their families. I can assure you that this author has felt proud about her craft as well, though some members of the Ton might condemn it as sinful. For a debutante it is of great importance to never cross the line between flaw and virtue. If a young lady is presenting herself too self-assured, gentlemen will see her as arrogant, even vain. However if she does not, she will be cast aside, left to rot in the corners of the ballroom. No one wants to be a mere wallflower, the quickest path to becoming a spinster. A Stewart will never bloom as a wallflower as they are too loud and difficult to ignore.  Neither do they balance nor stagger on the thin line, instead they bathe and roll the flaw called pride. We all wish of them to be more humble, but our prayers have not yet been answered.
⠀⠀⠀Nevertheless I wonder if Lady Stewart has always been deluded. Her family has great wealth but opposed to her own beliefs, money alone does not make you important in society. We all know that her delusions keep her afloat or else I would fail to explain yesterday’s events whom I can only call a Darlington Deja-Vu. Who does not remember last year’s disgrace, the Stewart masquerade, held on the same day as the annual Darlington ball? You might wonder why, dear reader. Megalomania is all I can say. Thus it is no great surprise that competing with one of the most popular events of the season ended in a complete disaster, an utter embarrassment. Their guests included those who did not get an invite to the Darlington Masquerade, and had been bored to death. Now Lady Stewart tried to do the same, teaching  Almack’s a lesson. Even to the dimmest candle it is known that upstaging the club’s Wednesday balls is a horrible idea, yet she did it anyway. It ended in another social disaster. We can only be lucky that she did not decide to present a lion to heal her wounded pride, lest the majestic beast would have also made a great escape the way the other patronised pets have done. (If you encounter a zebra on the streets of Mayfair I advise you not to feed the animal.) With that embarrassment called soirée neither her nor any Stewart will be ever invited to dance at Almack’s.

Yours Truly,
Lady Whistledown