When I saw Julia Roberts wearing "botanical couture " on the cover of Vanity Fair last month, I knew that environmental issues were about to become chic. Yet, it never really entered my realm of reality until the other night at a Beverly Hills party. Now, Beverly Hills is not my usual scene, but when you work in the film and TV industry, as I do, attending a party there once a year is mandatory. Like jury duty.
Pulling up to the impressive front gate, I spotted the usual Hollywood "A list-ers": Mercedes S600, Mercedes SUV, Range Rover Sport, Aston Martin, Jaguar (looking tired I might add) and the H2 Hummer. As I handed the keys of my Prius to the valet, I waved to a Porsche convertible I once worked with and hurried inside.
As it happens at any party, the guests soon gathered in little like-minded cluster cliques to talk. Over near the fireplace, the black Mercedes was talking to the champagne Mercedes. At the couch, the rust Range Rover sport was making a deal with the silver Land Rover. And next to the bar the H2 Hummer was desperately trying to pick up the Jaguar (even though, I swear to you, she was looking rusty and twice her age.)
And bubbling up out of each little cluster clique, I could hear snippets of their cocktail chatter: "Box office slumps, gas prices"... "Bad face lifts, gas prices" ... "Good face lifts, gas prices"... "Gas prices, Lindsey Lohan, gas prices."
And where was I? I was standing with three other Prius owners ... smirking. Yes, we were smirking the smirk of the self-satisfied. Thanks to the escalating gas prices (Am I the only one, anywhere in the U.S. writing that sentence? ), we suddenly found ourselves elevated in social status from "spendthrift nerds" to "visionaries, on the edge". Our choice of a hybrid car, way before it was an actual necessity, said to the world that we knew last season what everyone who's anyone would want to be driving this spring. Yes, thanks to Exxon, we had made the impossible leap from conscientious environmentalist to Coco Channel. And, odd as it may seem, in some circles that is considered a step up.
And what, you may wonder, does the self- satisfied Prius smirk look like? Well, you may have already seen it. It's the same smirk you see on the faces of single people when they are in the presence of a married couple that is fighting. It's the smirk you see on the faces of a couple who chose not to have children attending their friend's child's noisy 3rd birthday party. In other words: it's the smirk that naturally appears when the road less traveled suddenly starts looking likes the only way to go.
There is one more perk, beside the smirk, of driving a Prius. It gives you an excuse to leave a Beverly Hills party early. Because even if you're the first car to leave the party... you'll get home last. Yes, the car may be perfect for accessory for spring, but those Hollywood Hills can kick its ass.