Primates of Park Avenue is billed as a memoir but is constructed and intended more as a reflection on how rich wives of the Upper East Side behave. I found it silly and over the top in (many) places, but good fun to read because of its tone and the pleasure of a voyeuristic look not only into the lives of these rich women (their husbands make few appearances) but also into the author’s life, including her unquenchable thirst for a particular handbag and her reliance on family connections to get her children into the right school, which she interestingly seems to take for granted.
Now my question is: these women seem to be smart and well-educated. Why do they let themselves be so controlled by their husbands? Surely the jewelry and clothes and houses and amazing lifestyle is not worth it, right? Perhaps not to them, I guess.