I’ll call her Laura.
(Though that was definitely not her name.)
The thing to know about her is that she had everything.
Especially money. Huge amounts of the happy cabbage. If she wanted something, she bought it. She couldn’t think of any good reason not to.
You might be surprised to learn that Laura rarely visited the houses of the top fashion designers; instead, those top designers came to her place.
And the place she lived in was too much. An incredible house; the word “mansion” is inadequate to describe it.
Naturally she had a staff of gourmet chefs routinely turning out masterpieces of l’art culinaire. She could have, had she so desired, a complete meal of nothing but fabulous desserts. But the trouble is, when life itself is nothing but desserts there’s a fly in the crème caramel: it gets boring.
She knew, vaguely, that there was such a thing as poor people, and she had even heard that such types strongly resented her and her profligate ways. But she didn’t allow it to bother her too much. What was important for her was that her existence was getting monotonous.
So she had a great idea.
She was tired of her sumptuous lifestyle, tired of opulence – it was all artificial. She wanted to live real life, the way real people lived. She believed that farmers and peasants and such were happily enjoying a more authentic existence close to the earth.
Well, as we mentioned earlier, when she wanted something she bought it. So she decided to buy real life.
She had architects design a bucolic farmhouse, saturated with rusticity, on her property. She had top designers create simple peasant costumes for her.
She had a small private meadowland with a lake, a nearby grotto and a stream that turned a huge mill wheel. There was no mill; the turning wheel was just for show.
Laura went whole-hog – yes, she had some of those too because she had farm animals brought in. She enjoyed milking the cows, carrying her Sevres porcelain milk-pail with her.
You might think all this could endear her to the general population, but the opposite was the case. Poor folks heard about her bucolic adventures and thought she was mocking their wretched existence. Her remark about brioche was probably never made.
A few facts. Fact number one, her name wasn’t Laura (but you knew that). Fact number two, who was she?
(The answer will be posted Saturday.)