New York Magazine recently reported that a lady with a $10 million dollar home in the Hamptons, and who flies everywhere on private jets, prides herself in owning “fake” designer handbags. She’s just one of a group of extremely wealthy women who are staunchly committed to the “…atavistic thrill of the hunt – the feeling of getting a bargain,” as another affluent lady, who owns a fake Bulgari necklace, said. Just imagine the conversations that could be taking place within this tight-knit clique, who, despite being super-rich women, are super-dedicated bargain huntresses:

“Darling, you can get high-heel pumps that look exactly like Christian Louboutin’s, for a fraction of the price, and have your local shoemaker dye the sole that famous Louboutin red, and no one will know the difference…including the people sitting at your two-hundred-and-fifty thousand dollar Met Gala table.”

“I saved a considerable amount of money by buying some replica Louis Vuitton luggage pieces that were so convincing, they were even admired by the gentleman who took me to my Terrace-Duplex suite at Paris’s Plaza Athénée. ”

“You can save loads of your husband’s hard-earned…well, in our case, easy-earned dollars on art, if you know what you’re doing.  Stay away from Warhols, Basquiats and Picassos – even if you have an original, everyone will assume it’s a fake, because there are so many of them around.  I, personally, just got an incredible deal on an excellent fake Pollock, and everyone will just assume it’s an original since he and I were almost neighbors in Easthampton, even though his house was in the modest Springs, nowhere near my obscenely-expensive beach home.”

“There are fabulous buys in fake jewelry, especially necklaces, like my Buccellati.  And there’s no question that they’ll be one-hundred percent convincing if you get the absolute best plastic surgeon, no matter what the cost, to do your neck lift.”

“And why do we have to waste money always meeting for lunch at those chi-chi mid-town restaurants-of-the-moment when there’s this darling little boîte I recently discovered in an out-of-the-way section of Brooklyn.  Salade Niçoise to rival Boulud’s.  And if there’s no traffic, our chauffeurs can get us there in about an hour…and, of course, wait for us.  We pay them enough, for God’s sake!”

“I’ve found that one-ply toilet paper can be just as adequate as the more expensive ones, as long as you don’t get behind schedule on your Brazilian waxings.”