I have a friend who can look her husband straight in the eyes, even when confronted with irrefutable evidence, and convincingly swear that her ‘this season’ Louboutins was purchased for an obscene discount from a hawker in Canal Street [not true - I’ve watched her in action on Fifth Avenue]. Another has the passwords of her boyfriend’s e-mail and social networking accounts while he, of course, is blissfully unaware that his every virtual move is being monitored by his seemingly un-tech savvy girlfriend.
When I share the chilling tittle-tattle with my friend Jimmy, he kindly describes them as “undercover angels.” “Women,” he offers, “are born with an extra strand in their DNA. Men can fidget around with gadgets, but women have an antenna inside them. They’re born spies.”