You believe in preservation. Of buildings. Of standards. Of yourself. You move through cobblestone mornings and gallery benefit evenings with the same composure. You’ve mastered the art of appearing untouched by the chaos you orchestrate. Your neighborhood is a parish, and you are its patron saint.

YOUR UNIFORM:
A fur scarf, a tailored black dress, sleek boots, the ideal nude manicure, an enviable mane of perfectly combed waves, the scent of a freshly popped bottle of champagne, a back-from-the-beach baked bronze no one will ever know is fake, and a posh pout.