You see I’ve just finished tagging along with my friend, who has a fabulously fun uncle, who happens to own a house in New York State’s, East Hampton. Or, The Hamptons as you may have heard the Sex In the City girls reference fondly on more than one occasion.
The thing is, I’ve quite literally never been anywhere like it in my life! Yes it’s beautiful, but so are many places I’ve been, so what’s the big deal?
There’s Carrickalinga, here in Sth Australia, with houses enjoying arguably the best beach views in Australia.
There’s Palm Beach in NSW, where if you haven’t got yourself a nice yacht, you’re probably not going to be asked to dinner.
There’s Portsea in Victoria, where some of the country’s biggest media giants spend their weekends in houses that have garages as big as most of our main abodes.
And then there’s The Hamptons, (I even just like saying it) where if you’re expecting to get a house near the water for anything much less than a cool $40 million, “you’re dreamin!”’
Calvin Klein, Steve Spielberg, Alec Baldwin, are but a few of the locals, and I mention them in particular because their names you’ll know.
What I don’t mention are the names you, or me for that reason do NOT know. But I can assure, you when the joke is made about wishing we were the guy that invented the ‘post it note’, I’d bet my last $50 he’s swanning around a couple of hundred acres in The Hamptons, in a pair of white linen pants. It’s that kind of place.
One local mused that when Renee Zellweger bought her mansion, word got out that she was just a tad difficult to deal with because of her terror that anyone find out where she’d bought!
Now, in any other neck of the woods, she might be forgiven for having paranoia, but around her East Hampton ‘hood’, the care factor on her, is about the same as my bank balance I just checked. Zilch!
Even the local general store is a gobsmacking experience. Not only is there not one shop that does anything that you’d rate as, ‘a little average’ – you know, the one that’s had the Chiko roll sitting around too long? Yep, that one, isn’t in The Hamptons.
Take for instance the cute, quaint little shop called ‘The Round Swamp’. Now, with a name like that, and a little picket fence out front, who’d expect anything more alarming than an egg cracked in a carton of a dozen.? Well, how about paying $15 for a loaf of bread and a carton of milk then?
There’s a good reason why there is not one price on one item in this shop. Basically, if you’re the type that needs to ask the amount, doing your shopping here is most certainly not for you. In fact, if you aren’t armed with a black Amex, then you’re probably lost.
It’s hard not to name drop in The Hamptons, because there is a ‘name’ attached to everything, so when in Rome. We nearly fell off our chairs at lunch as Christie Brinkley saunters in. It wasn’t even that it was the original Uptown Girl in the flesh, it was the fact that ‘the flesh’ had not one single wrinkle on it.
Although, given that only a night later, not all that far away in town, in walks, at another ‘Hamptons haunt’, her ex hubbie, and my favourite singer Billy Joel. I wondered that if Christie’s gorgeous face was the result of a plastic surgeon no one I know will ever be able to afford, how would it have stacked up under seeing the ‘ex factor’?
And to top off a memorable, ‘living vicariously’ vacation, who’d have thought that a columnist from Adelaide, would have spotted Billy Joel with his new squeeze before the New York Post? They may have printed it on Tuesday, but I SAW it on Saturday.