Favorite Preppy and the City Stories

I have lived in Greenwich Village, Chinatown, Union Square, the Upper East Side, and Spanish Harlem. While not the most exciting neighborhood in the city, I find the UES to be the most fascinating. The world's best prep schools are all right there. One of my biggest concerns in life is how I can get my kids into one of these schools so they can get into a decent undergraduate institution. Well, according to this New York Post article, UES prep schools may be slippin. Maybe it does pay to be middle class. Nobody was admitted to Harvard from Dalton this year until one person finally got off the waitlist.

I am jealous of UES preppies for two reasons:

1. They get better educations than I did at Westminster

2. They live in apartments with no front door. They just walk right off their elevators into the entrance way or living room of their apartments. No need for keys. I would gladly live in Brooklyn if I could just walk right off the elevator into my apartment with no door.

Here is a book all about them that I am dying to read:

Description from Amazon: "After uncovering this underground economy where a teacher can make the same hourly rate as a Manhattan attorney, Anna herself is seduced by lucrative offers--one after another. Teacher by day, tutor by night, she starts to sample the good life her students enjoy: binges at Barneys, dinners at the Waverly Inn, and a new address on Madison Avenue." (If this is for real, sign me up. Seriously.)

And now for my favorite portrayals of UES preps.

The preppy version of the Breakfast Club. Intelligent. Great dialogue. Rent it.

In a previous post I discussed my love of The Ivy Chronicles. Well this is like the precursor to that book.

SMG is perfect in this movie. My favorite part is when the teacher dumps the coke out of her cross necklace.

B with the haragossip girls.

Thus far, Gossip Girl, you KNOW you love her, is the most intoxicating portrayal of NYC prepster life. One day I will devote an entire post to my deep love and admiration for Blair Waldorf. jk. maybe.