“No, no, of course not. Not real queens, only those who think they are. Those women I told you about.”
I picked another fluffy leaf from a nearby branch, picked at its fronds as I tried to explain these people, “The Four Hundred” as the world knew them, to this unworldly girl. How did one explain the three unusual women—rebel, perfectionist, loose cannon—who sat on their thrones, Alva Vanderbilt, Tessie Oelrichs, and Mamie Fish? Of course, the true leader was Mrs. Astor; no one dared rival her decisions. Between the three of them, they could not knock her off the one true throne.
I straightened my back until I was almost bending backward, puffed up my cheeks, stuck my nose in the air, and tightened my throat, “If you want to be fashionable, always be in the company of fashionable people.
