An Ode to the WASP

WASP- (n.) an acronym for White Anglo-Saxon Protestant

I had been familiar with the term before I moved to New York, but hadn't really grasped its full meaning until officially arriving on the East Coast. Prior to, I had just assumed that it was a fancy way of saying "Caucasian." It wasn't until I walked among them that I fully realized the error of my ways.

The best way to describe the WASP phenomenon would be "Old Money." To the WASP, tradition, breeding and lineage are what matters. Pastel Locaste polos are worn to particularly boozy Sunday brunches at their Hamptons estate where they play tennis, speak with a hint of a British accent (the Motherland), and frown upon the vulgarity of "New Money.". In London, the closest equivalent would be the Public School boys who graduate from Cambridge, party more glamorously than any American I know (or at least with a bit more sophistication), all before succumbing to their fate of working in the City and inhabiting a flat off of Sloane Square.

Los Angeles does not believe is WASPS, which I suppose explains my fascination. We would rather embrace a less stuffy and more superficial show of money, a la the Entertainment Industry. As a result, coming from the West Coast mindset of "If you've got it, flaunt it," which is usually personified through expensive cars and flashy shopping trips to Robertson Blvd., has made this snobby Ivy League state of mind completely foreign, and consequentially, intruiging to me.

I've recently been turning (pun intended) to books in order to better understand this obscure lifestyle. The Great Gatsby, obviously, is the quintessential example of the WASP culture, with Gatsby himself embodying the ostentation that WASPS, like Daisy and Jack, hate. However, the distinction between old and new has not diminished much since the roaring 20's and can be experienced in a myriad of ways. Cheerful Money and Too Much Money are just a few of the enlightening works available that offer a glimpse into the world of the WASP, for those with breeding that would otherwise prohibit it.

I am well aware that my LA background makes it impossible for me to ever fully enter the WASP's inner sanctum, however, that doesn't mean I can't at least attempt to capture some of the essence of their being. Thanks to stores like J. Crew, GAP, and Banana Republic after the age of 40 when the WASP switches for Coco to Number 5, and the WASP's style Bible, Take Ivy, the preppy look is just a VISA swipe away, in spite of my "New Money" heritage.

Because, after all, who doesn't love a good Polo?