Once in a very rare while, yours truly attends smart dinners and parties hosted by very wealthy relatives and friends. When you put your mind to it, you can be that social butterfly.
The pre-requisites, if you don't have money: you better be beautiful. If you're dirt ugly, you better be witty. Clever too, but not too clever, yah, we don't want to outshine anyone else in their Pradas and Marc Jacobs. It's all part of the game, and really, social Malaysia is practically Additional Maths, what with its sub-sets and inner circles.
Let's not even bother with the nouveaus. They're so pass and gaudy. Oh you really don't even want to go there. They hit it lucky with one tender and are chummy with a few A-list Ministers, and they think they're It. No wonder they marry artistes and kampung girls made good for second wives.
We're not going to even touch royalties. Been there, done that.
Besides, the true bluebloods are the tycoons and their offspring. They look good, aren't overweight and are educated. These boys and girls aren't stupid. You know these types: trust fund babies that get Swiss bank accounts at the age of 15.
At one dinner I was dragged to, (and believe that I was nowhere as sociable or fashionable as I should have been, given the illustrious company I kept with for the night. I was a last-minute date), the talk revolved around a gentleman's Umrah (minor pilgrimage) trip. The male scions of dynasties nodded, sipped their drinks and sank back into their chairs, while the women clapped their hands and begged, oh do. Do tell us about your trip.
He had been to Mecca three times already, and each time he was even more inspired by the arduous journey The Prophet Mohammad (pbuh) had taken centuries ago. How humbled he was, knowing The Good Man only had his feet and a camel as transportation, whereas he flew.
"But I'll tell you this. After 10 days of holiness, it was damned good to be back on MAS. I just kept thinking of the bottle I left at Passion. Hey, a glass of wine after all is permissible, kan ?" he laughed.
