Hello! You’re reading Heir Mail, the only newsletter to come from me (hi) setting a Google Alert for the word “heiress” and then just writing about whatever pops up.
Welcome back from a surprise (to me) hiatus! I thought that I’d have plenty of time to write this a couple weeks ago when I was visiting family, but I was very busy being feted by everyone my parents’ have ever known, meeting and (safely) mingling with retired and semi-retired people from all over the New England area. The glamour was non-stop!
Luckily New York’s current blistering heat and the looming continuation of the Delta variant mean I’m back and my new fall plans are writing this newsletter from my apartment. If you’re getting it, it certainly means things are still obscenely bleak. But maybe someday I’ll stop showing up for real, and when you realize you’ll smile to yourself, just a little, like Chuckie at the end of Good Will Hunting.
This will be you and you’ve never looked better. | Miramax, eek.
More likely I’ll write this forever. <3 <3
Command + F:
Things get Telegraphic.
Everyone Sucks Here (ESH) but some people suck way more than others.
New boyfriend alert! (Anyone you touch is your boyfriend!!!)
In the rest of the alert: Dirt (x2), Crystal Bridges, no stakes, a Vanderbilt steal on the Upper East side, don’t make me side with a PJ, ParaPea, a real cow
This week I decided to bite a bullet and finally got a (free, for now) subscription to the Telegraph. They fully paywalled British newspaper pops up a medium amount in the alert with previously-inaccessible headlines like “Meet the billionaire pharmaceutical heiress who's the talk of the art world” and “Opera star wins court battle over input for Florence Foster Jenkins film,” and frankly I was tired of being shut out like the common street rat I am. (Do they know how many retired VPs I have shared Tostitos with in the last month? I ask you!)
It paid off immediately, because we get to meet the late Clarissa Collin — Lady C as she was known to her friends — an archetypal poor little rich girl turned big civics-doer who “hosted one of Boris Johnson’s first appearances as a candidate.” Oof.
Clarissa recently passed away at the age of 82. Her parents were of the oldest money — and fucking around on the other (“Both Sim and Anne had amorous interests elsewhere,” Lady C’s aunt wrote in her memoirs) — but she was a slightly different type of rich from them, for better or for worse. The ‘graph explains:
The only child of the last Earl of Feversham, Clarissa Collin, née Duncombe, might have been destined for the life of aristocratic pleasure-seeking familiar to her parents and their circle – but instead found contentment, as she put it, “in everything to do with the countryside”, and a wide-ranging commitment to civic duty.
The notoriously unpleasant English countryside! Still, it says she “endured a lonely childhood in the company of a dozen indoor servants” and she didn’t get her father’s titles, which seems like some BS.
About that ancient money, though, a longish interlude. Her maternal grandfather, Edward Wood, the one-time Lord Irwin, 1st Earl of Halifax, was Neville Chamberlain’s Foreign Secretary, Winston Churchill’s ambassador to Washington, and Viceroy of India from 1926 to 1931. Yes, those are Gandhi times1.
Ed was, according to Wikipedia, not as big of a dick to Indians as those who came before him as then British head of the Indian state, but he still kept Indians off of a commission intended to assess the colonization, happily signed death warrants, and put Mahatma in jail following the Salt March2. Eventually Ed actually negotiated with the activist leader, letting everyone out of jail and giving Gandhi3 a seat at the proverbial table, but when Ed stepped down, shit went bad again.
Ed (right) with his boy Winston Churchill. | Wikimedia Commons
One of the best things about reading this dude’s Wikipedia page is that as he gets more titles, his name keeps changing; he’s Wood then he’s Irwin then he’s Halifax. What a high class identity crisis. It also says Ed was one of the dudes who came up with the plan to appease Hitler. Whoops! I’d change my name too! He once mistook the fuhrer for a footman and almost tried to hand off his coat. After that tense meeting, Ed said, “Nationalism and Racialism is a powerful force but I can't feel that it's either unnatural or immoral! I cannot myself doubt that these fellows are genuine haters of Communism, etc.! And I daresay if we were in their position we might feel the same!” This guy sure loves exclamation points and hates other races.
Ed was very tall, had half an artificial left hand with a spring-loaded thumb (the result of a birth defect), and he couldn’t say the letter “R.” All three of his older brothers died, so he was in the House of Lords at age nine. His father collected ghost stories. He shows up in Remains of the Day and Upstairs Downstairs and in many alternative history novels, nearly always negotiating peace between Nazi Germany and England.
His great-grandfather (Clarissa’s great-great-great grandfather) was the Earl Grey4 the tea’s named for. Oh yes, sorry, Clarissa. Wow.
Following her lonely childhood, in 1958, Clarissa was thrown from a horse, breaking her back and face and spending 29 days in a coma. She had extensive plastic surgery. In 1962, she came to the US to work at the Washington embassy, which sounds cool but the impetus was her father trying to get her away from a “dubious suitor.” When dad died she came home and married one of his hunting friends.
Her politics, as indicated from the BoJo of it, were becoming of the great-great-great granddaughter of the former Viceroy of India. The “robust old-school Conservative” was on all sorts of boards and benches: for the Church of England in York, for a layperson court situation in Scarborough, for various unnamed “regional charities, with special concerns for drug rehabilitation and mental health.” Maybe not the charities I’d want run by a robust old-school conservative, but who knows.
She had beautiful gardens, but she once gave the public access to her land in exchange for an inheritance tax break and then tried to sneakily take it back. But she also tried to get a guy out of jail for weed and protested a Tesco superstore.
And then, here’s a sentence from the Telegraph I just need to give you:
She was also a friend and supporter of the local constabulary – though herself far from law-abiding as a driver, striking terror into passengers in a battered Subaru that resembled, in her smoking days, a giant ashtray.
Friends with cops: ugh, typical. Terrible driver and chain-smoker, though? Relatable and aspirational, respectively.
Estimated Net Worth: Like many old old old money families, I couldn’t find solid info on this. Once Gandhi told Ed Wood Irwin Halifax that he was getting “much over five thousand times India's average income.” By the end of her life, she’d sold off some of the family’s assets (like an old sawmill), but her son was able to buy Nawton Tower, where she spent her lonely childhood. She lived in a cottage on the land.
I apologize, but I can only think of one way to approach this situation:
AITA for putting a lit firework in my ex’s mailbox?
I (23F) was out drinking with my best mate5 L (27F) when we decided to get a little payback on my ex J (46M). I think I’m in the right but now The Mirror is writing up my case under the headline “Heiress, 23, posted lit firework through ex's letterbox amid inheritance dispute” and I don’t know.
Some backstory: J and I started dating 6 years ago, right after my mom died. We weren’t rich or anything but she had left me a little money (£7,000). I had a some more I got after I was assaulted (the court awarded me damages). I everything I had into the little place we got for the two of us.
But after we moved in (to the place that again I spent ALL my money on) the relationship became abusive and toxic.
When we broke up, I was left with nothing. I’d confront J about it and he’d hit me. I called the police on J 3 times, but when they came he’d accuse me of harassment and stalking and they didn’t do anything.
Anyways, one night a couple months ago, L and I had a few pints and decided the only thing to do was to throw a firework into his house through the mail slot. Right? L ran up and shoved it in and I drove us away. J was asleep, but I guess he heard the letterbox open and when he came downstairs, his carpet was on fire.
He wasn’t hurt and the firework only burned his carpet a little!!
L and I just went to court (on my birthday!), and this is sort of where I started to feel like TA. We both got two years with suspended sentences for "exceptional circumstances.” We have to complete 150 hours of unpaid work, attend a "women's problem-solving court," and I’m barred from talking to my ex. AITA?
First comment, from HeiressObsessed42069:
ESH, and let me explain why.
Your ex is TA, BIG time. You were 17 and he was 40 when you started dating. Those power dynamics are not okay! The idea that a grown adult would get involve with a teenager who had just lost her mother, and then move in with her and let her spend everything she had — the fruit of two incredibly scarring events! — on their house together, is so wrong and sad and enraging. You’re NTA for being incredibly angry. I think it’s for the best that you can’t talk to him.
ALSO The Mirror is TA because this as clickbait feels BAD. “Heiress” just isn’t the word I’d used for an abused young woman who was left less than $10K American dollars (about $9,705.49, to be precise)! “Amid inheritance dispute” is a very deranged way to put this. And I looked at the link and it feels gross and weird that they pulled so many pictures from your Instagram (not to mention the ones of you outside the courthouse yelling at the camera and eating a sandwich) and absolutely none of your ex. Cool job!
But YTA because well, you did have your friend stick a firework in his mailbox. What’s maybe worse than the possible physical injury or actual property damage (pleh) is pulling your friend into it. From your other comments, I see that she’s a mom of two who’d never broken the law. You’re clearly still very young, and trying to process your mom’s death, and I hope you get the support you need.
Your friend is NTA, though. She’s a real bro. I would watch an ITV show about the two of you anytime.
Estimated Net Worth: Nothing, obviously, WTF!
Francesca Packer Barham and her trainer boyfriend broke UP! Months ago possibly. He’s been posting cryptic Instas about it:
Buddy, NO. | @adamcooperfit’s Instagram
I know it’s parasocial and creepy and rude to be pleased about this breakup but these posts are embarrassing and I don’t trust very prettyfit men. So sure, yes, I have been projecting a LOT of myself on FPB for like nine whole months now and I want her to date guys I like. What’s weird about that!6 As we say on the Island: NICE GUY NICE TRY, FBOY F BYE!
Last weekend, Francesca was seen out in her signature athleisure (the Mail notes that she “clad her curves in all black” and her “ample assets” were visible the a mesh panel at the top of her outfit; she was wearing a lycra bodysuit onesie, my tacky queen) in Woolloomooloo7. She was with, among others, a man who I think I like! He has nice big thighs and a beard and he’s even wearing a mask. Who is he? No one knows, apparently!
The Daily Mail says she has “apparently put that heartbreak behind her” because she and this guy are “cosying” up. In accompanying photos, Francesca and the beardo put their arms around each other, a thing only very serious lovers do. That is just not something you could do with anyone, especially a friend after a breakup. I for one am sold on this weak evidence because I like it!
Estimated Net Worth: Wiki.projecttopics.org — your favorite site, and mine — says FPB “owns a $16 million penthouses and a $1 million Rolls Royce. It seems she enjoys the fortune of her mother Gretel Packer who has an estimated net worth of $1.2 billion.”
From the rest of the alert
Shout out to property pub Dirt, which really has it. This week: Belinda Stronach, a horse racing mogul who’s been suing and being sued by her automotive parts manufacturer dad Frank for being bad with money, bought a house in Beverly Hills for $16.25 million. The lawsuits should help with money management! Also Nicole Ross Eloff sold a Hamptons home for $7.5 million AND bought another from a Getty, but the real tea is that she’s the “raison d’etre” for The Ross School, a private school based around her mom taking rich kids to the Galapagos and feeding them caviar. This led me to this extremely fun 2007 NYMag feature that sees one former employee say, “It was as if Donald Trump were a school principal.”
Someone besides Alice Walton gives $10 million to Crystal Bridges.
There are many compelling reviews of Cooking With Paris, but the only one you need is Rachel Sugar at Grub Street. The friend that she asked “Is the problem with extreme wealth that there are no stakes?” sounds pretty and smart.
Anderson is selling Gloria’s apartment! $1.1 million which… and has New York real estate broken my brain?… seems like not very much for an apartment on the Upper East???
3 bedrooms, 2 baths, who knows how many paintings of Gloria. | Photo courtesy of Anastassios Mentis/Brown Harris Stevens
I’m not even going to link to it, but Breitbart had the stupidest complaint about someone having private jets I’ve ever heard, and private jets absolutely blow environmental ass and should be complained about every day, my god. They’re mad because The Atlantic ran a piece by Juliette Kayyem saying that unvaccinated adults should be put on the no fly list and their point, which again I’m not linking to and I link to the Daily Mail regularly, is that Atlantic owner Laurene Powell Jobs (widow of Steve) has two private jets and so shouldn’t care. The real problem with America is that PJ owners aren’t solely consumed with their own welfare and no one else’s enough.
Shari Redstone is reportedly looking for more than just Comcast (which owns NBC) to make a bid to partner with ViacomCBS, a merger that could smash Paramount + and Peacock into one thing, presumably called ParaPea+8. This is media consolidation X heiresshood, aka The Succession Shit, so wow, I really own y’all a dive into Shari. I should maybe not have spent so much time this week reading about the Viceroy of India!
Somecow this 1986 (Martha’s) Vineyard Gazette article involving a heifer named Heiress got stuck in the alert. We’ll take it!
He was played in the movie Ben Kingsley probably wouldn’t make today by John Gielgud, the butler from Arthur.
TLDR: the British had forced a salt monopoly, and the extremely important substance was taxed at an insanely high rate. Gandhi and his followers went to the sea to get their own damn salt, only to be beaten severely.
Do we need me to do “Gandhi was complicated too” here? I think nah.
He actually maybe kind of ruled, all things being relative, because in 1838, when he was PM his government abolished slavery in most of the British colonies. Beat us!
Okay, sorry, I’m not going to try to do this in an accent, but they’re British.
Everything!!!!
I just like to type it!
Don’t say MountCock+! Wow, you should be ashamed of yourself!