Diary of a Madison Avenue trophy wife: why they fight for their alimony

Dear Diary: My stroll along Madison Avenue the other day was very memorable. Not because of the rain, although there is almost nothing that gives me more pleasure than taking a long walk in Manhattan in the rain. And it wasn’t all the fancy stores I walked by either from Ann Taylor to DKNY, Ivanka Trump to Hermes, Barneys to Godiva, Whitney Museum to Ralph Lauren as I peered hungrily into the glass windows at clothes and things I will probably never be able to afford. It wasn’t even passing by one of the City’s landmark hotels–The Carlyle–and discovering that for just $27.95 I can have a prix fix lunch with my friends on a glorious Saturday afternoon if we are all so inclined (they will never go they find these places stuffy and pretentious).
What made it memorable was the thought that stuck in my head as I peered hungrily into all the fancy stores, and up at all the illustrious townhouses that lined the elegant blocks in which resides the city’s society set. I thought to myself, “well, this is where all the trophy wives live and shop till they drop before they become divorcees. No wonder they fight so hard to get their share of the billions!” And as soon as I thought it, I reprimanded myself, “shame on you, you jealous poor person. Don’t you dare try to jinx these girls with your negative thoughts and vibes.”
But, no. Madison Avenue. It was memorable in and of itself just for the sake of being so memorable.  All this time I thought 5th Avenue was the thing in New York. No. It’s Madison.
No wonder trophy wives like Marie Douglas David fight to the draw. They have to protect their ability to continue to hang out here.  I mean, her apartment is on Park, but you can bet she shops on Madison. And now I understand why she feels that $43 million just won’t cut it.