Authors: Dirk Wittenborn,Jazz Johnson
Upward mobility gives a marriage purpose. You both know the direction you are heading:
to the top!
You go to a cocktail party with a joint game plan, and the synergy of your social climbing skills helps you climb faster than either one of you
could alone. That’s what you love most about your partner and what makes marriage both fun and profitable.
Sadly, God did not create all social climbers equal. If you see your husband spending more time on the practice range than networking out on the greens, you have reason to worry that one member of the team has taken his eye off the ball. When a spouse turns down an invitation to a dinner party given by a Big Fish because she “doesn’t feel like getting dressed up” and “just wants to veg,” know that there are cracks in the foundation of your marriage. If you feel your partner is not doing their fair share of the climbing, if he or she still wants to stay home and veg instead of meeting new and exciting people who can help
you
, know that in the long run you will be doing both of you a favor if you go back to climbing solo.
Yes, you will be heartbroken, but divorce is the best thing that happens to most marriages. Any psychologist will tell you, it’s never one person’s fault, even if you’re the one who got caught having sex with your spouse’s brother/sister. We know you wouldn’t have done it if your spouse had been out there climbing with you instead of vegging at home. Know that your marriage ended for the same reason that over half the marriages in the world end in divorce–one member of the team didn’t have enough self-love to give a hundred percent. And if you are married to someone who doesn’t love him- or herself enough to know that they deserve the best, you cannot expect that person to love you or what you love, i.e., social climbing.
You, as a shrewd social climber, should always stay “friends” with your exes no matter how much you hate them, no matter
what they have called you, or even if they have dumped you. Remember the Mountaineer is always in control of his or her emotions. If you have not yet attained that level of self-control, “fake it and flip it,” i.e., tell the bastard/bitch, “I will always love you and be there for you.” If you have trouble making those words come out of your mouth without gagging, practice saying them in front of the mirror.
EMPOWERING THOUGHT #28
Always speak fondly of your ex-spouse in public, even if he or she is trashing you about town and emailing compromising naked photos of you to your boss/business associates/children. Why? Because you are a Mountaineer, and by taking the high road and letting your ex do the badmouthing for both of you, everyone will assume that they were “the problem.”
No matter how acrimonious the divorce, say enough nice things about your ex and your ex will begin to believe that they were the problem even if in fact they weren’t. Eventually, the ex will stop blaming you and start inviting you to their parties, especially if you have traded up and are now married to a Big Fish/Whale your ex wants to become friends with.
It’s not what you are, but what they think you are that is important.
—Joseph Kennedy
I
t’s time to get back on Facebook and use social media to introduce people to the person you want them to think you are. Not just the new you, the virtual new you! By now, if you’ve been doing your homework and following our suggestions, you should have at the very least become new best friends with two Big Fish and acquired a Swan and/or Turtle, all of whom are bringing you to parties, dinners, openings, charity events, weddings, and at least one star-studded funeral. If the above doesn’t sound like your life, you should consider doing what our friends from Landmark Forum call revisiting your “story” and take responsibility for the excuses that are holding you back from realizing your true potential. In other words, get over yourself, climb out of the pity pot, and try harder.
Returning to social media will give your social cred a bump by legitimizing the new and improved person you’ve become since you started reading this book and owned up to your dreams.
Your new Facebook page is the first step you will be taking to turn your persona into a brand as deluxe as an Hermès bag, as synonymous with good taste as Cristal champagne, and as popular as Google. Remember, though people love Google for its integrity, as expressed in its unofficial motto, “Don’t be evil,” you, unfortunately, are not a corporation worth hundreds of billions of dollars, i.e., your personal motto should be “Admire most those who help you most.”
Think of your new Facebook page as the twenty-first-century equivalent of the nineteenth-century calling card. Two hundred years ago, when a gentleman came to town and wanted to announce his arrival, he had his servant drop a card at the home of the person he wanted to suck up to. If he was especially eager to make that person’s acquaintance, he would fold a corner of the card to indicate he had dropped it off in person.
Think of the message you want to send as your cyber calling card. The details, quality, and good taste of your new Facebook page will determine what we call your friendability.
Your new Facebook page should not make you seem as if you’re boasting, but it should convey the distinct illusion that you know many more fabulous and famous people than you actually do, and that those reading your page should friend you now while you’re still accepting friends. This is your chance to offer those who have reserved judgment about you a virtual look at who you really are—virtually.
Even though you removed your Facebook page back in
Chapter 4
, those humiliating photos of you could still come back to haunt you. If, for instance, your old page revealed that you like former New York Jets quarterback Mark Sanchez, Dr. Phil, and Snuggies, you now need to distance yourself from the loser you once were and the friends who tagged you in photos that make you look as large and undesirable as a secondhand sofa left on the side of the road. To avoid the possibility of your past coming back to bite you in your cyber-ass, now is the right time for you to change the name of your brand. If you were a Barney, you might want to become a Bernard. Wouldn’t you rather be Françoise than Francie? Or, if you’re feeling bold, give yourself a new surname as well. More than one of the reigning single socialites currently cashing in on their aristocratic lineage in New York wasn’t born with the last name she is currently using to sell herself. We would be glad to give you her initials, except we fear we would be sued. Happy with your name as it is? Add a new middle initial, and if photos of the old you do resurface, you can explain that your old self is a distant relation you haven’t seen in years.
By now, if you have been following our advice, you should have a collection of selfies, photos of yourself with important people you have never even met, as well as pictures of you with the two Big Fish and Turtle who have become your NBFs. Post one of each on your page and if, for example, the three strangers you’ve taken selfies of or had yourself photographed standing next to are, say, Salman Rushdie, Ryan Seacrest, and Fran Lebowitz, when your Turtle and Big Fish friends check out your
page, they’ll not only see themselves with you but they’ll also see you hanging with Salman, Ryan, and Fran; chances are they would like to meet your celebrity pals and will send you a Friend Request.
A social climber should never send a Friend Request even if he or she does get lucky enough to actually meet Salman, Ryan, or Fran. And remember, even if a somebody you have been desperate to connect with for months tries to Friend you, always wait forty-eight hours before accepting the invitation.
A social climber should never appear desperate and/or needy, especially if he or she is.
Naturally, your new friends will wonder why you have deemed them unworthy of a real-life introduction to Salman, Ryan, and Fran. The best answer to this question is, “They’re very private people.” Which, of course, will also make them wonder who else you know whom you haven’t yet introduced them to. If you’re pals with Fran, does that mean you’re hanging with
Vanity Fair
editor Graydon Carter? And if you’re buds with Ryan Seacrest, maybe if they were a little nicer to you, you’d invite them along when you hang out with
The Voice
judges Adam Levine and Blake Shelton?
EMPOWERING THOUGHT #29
The ideal Facebook page should make you seem fabulous enough to be worth getting to know better, but not so fabulous as to be intimidating or to inspire resentment. You also don’t want it to appear that you are only interested in friending Big Fish and somebodies, which is true, but not something you should advertise.
Of course, this is a fine line to tread. One of the best ways to seem less superficial than you are is to post excerpts and/or editorials from foreign newspapers—
The Guardian
,
Figaro
,
Die Zeit
. You don’t have to be able to read them, just having their links on your Facebook page will make you seem more intelligent to others, and to yourself.
Facebook is your chance to add veracity to any elements of your backstory that you have exaggerated or invented in the course of making friends with Swans, Turtles, and Big Fish. If, for example, you told people your grandmother took you on safari in Africa, leaf through old copies of
National Geographic
for an old photo of a woman and a child with an elephant. Post it, with the caption “Me and Granny on the Serengeti Plain, 1983.” If you get comments that you don’t look like the child, tell them you’ve changed. That much is true.
It’s important that you do not try to supply pictorial evidence to support all the whoppers you’ve told and dead famous friends
you have name-dropped since you started climbing all at once. Spread them out over the coming months as you update your status. Be subtle. If, for instance, you told people you biked across Tasmania with Heath Ledger, post a snapshot of two beat-up mountain bikes lying forlornly in the grass and simply write, “Heath’s bike.” Let them ask you, “Heath who?” Sometimes less is more when social climbing on the Internet.
Your Facebook page is you. Make it worthy enough, and someone might invite you to join the thinking snob’s version of Facebook, ASMALLWORLD, an invitation-only network capped at a mere 250,000, which promises to make you “feel at home anywhere.” Tellingly, it was conceived by Count Erik Wachtmeister, the son of the former Swedish ambassador to the United States, while he was wild-boar hunting in Germany, and is designed to put members in touch with “a community of global nomads who hang out together,” i.e., people who inherited enough money so they don’t have to have a real job. There’s no question that it is truly a small world; when we first met Count Erik in New York in the eighties, he was a hard-partying Big Fish whose popularity with fashion models earned him a nickname that our lawyers have advised us not to repeat. The point is, if Erik can rebrand himself, so can you.
In principle, we are against any virtual venue for self-promotion that doesn’t give the fledgling climber a shot at the top. However, if you do con someone into inviting you to join ASmallWorld or any other überexclusive site, your membership will only add to the veracity of your embellished exotic backstory and enable you to meet even more advanced social climbers than yourself. Remember, there’s nothing like watching a roomful of
great Mountaineers in action to teach even the most experienced climber new tricks.
Tweeting Your Way into the Winner’s Circle
Tweeting has revolutionized and democratized social climbing. Next to your charm, your iPhone, Droid, Samsung Galaxy, or whatever is the single most essential tool a climber possesses.
Say you’re at a party for Prada’s new strapless heel, or Mark Wahlberg’s latest movie. If you write in 140 characters or less why the shoe or the film is fantastic and attach a picture of yourself having a fabulous time at the launch, you’re not bragging to the ether that you got invited to an exclusive event, you’re sharing your life and turning your friends, both real and virtual, on to a product you think is wonderful.