Posted on 01/15/2007 7:16:36 PM PST by Lorianne
Decadent stay-at-home wives who take their rich husbands for a ride have finally been rumbled, says Tara Winter Wilson
Once upon a time, there was a truth, universally acknowledged, that a man with a powerful job and a beautiful house must be in want of a wife – preferably of the trophy variety. Domesticated, docile yet dazzling, she was the perfect finishing touch.
Not any more. According to research to be published in the journal Labour Economics, the earnings gap between married couples is narrowing. While in the 1980s it was the case that the higher a professional man's salary the fewer paid hours his wife would put in, men today are more likely to want a dynamic high-flier, an equal who wows him as much in the boardroom as in the bedroom.
Poisonous: 'It is like a perversion of the evolution theory: they have evolved into creatures whose function is simply to get the most for doing the least,’ says one husband A victory for feminism? Sadly not. The reason for this change, sisters, is nothing to be proud of.
Rich men, I believe, have finally cottoned on to the sinister side of the stay-at-home wife: unless you marry an equal who's going to pay her own way, you will end up with a lazy, indulgent, over-pampered slug. For the transition from trophy wife to toxic wife is as fast as the end result is furious.
I should know: many men of my age and acquaintance have become deeply bitter and disappointed about how their wives have changed since they hung up their working wardrobes. I am talking about university-educated women (often Oxbridge graduates) who do a couple of years work in the City before harnessing themselves to a milch cow and "having it all".
Apparently there's a new take on "having it all" – and it's not what the majority of us understood it to mean. Back in the 1970s, it meant effortlessly maintaining a beautiful home, entertaining in grand style, raising perfect children, keeping the husband sweet and having some sort of career in order to create financial independence.
"Superwoman" was the phrase coined for these energetic pioneers; "trophy wives" for the less energetic ones. Today it's a whole new ball game.
"It is like a perversion of the evolution theory: they have evolved into creatures whose function is simply to get the most for doing the least," whispered an exhausted husband to me recently. "I wouldn't mind providing her with so much if she just did something for me occasionally. She's never even once cooked me a meal."
"She doesn't know the definition of sacrifice," said another angry husband. "Relationships are meant to be about compromise, but she is more about selfishness. I bend and adapt to her needs, yet all she gives me are ultimatums."
"Can't you just divorce?" I asked.
"Are you kidding?" he replied. "I'd lose everything I've worked for, including my children, and I'd be paying her an indecent amount of money for life."
"There's another reason these husbands don't divorce," added a sympathetic onlooker. "They don't want to admit to failure – they don't want to be ungallant. There's an unspoken nobility or gentlemanly understanding that divorce is something they don't do."
Indeed, "something they don't do" is a mantra that extends to practically every area of toxic wifedom. Once an intelligent, educated woman who could hold her own in any dinner-party conversation, the toxic wife will do nothing of the sort.
"They not only become utterly vacant, they never throw dinner parties or entertain anyone outside of their small, closeted circle of other vacant wives," said irate husband number one.
"None of us can understand this: they become obsessed with perfection, grooming, with all aspects of their personal appearance… in a word, they become boring."
"Vain, boring, indulgent and lazy," adds yet another voice to the growing army of fed-up husbands. "I have to take the children out of the house every Sunday morning and wander around with them trying to find things to do because my wife must have a lie-in. I'm only allowed back in the house after 11am. Sunday is the nanny's day off, you see."
"My wife," chipped in husband number two, "gives over the whole of the weekend to pursuing what she calls 'me time'. She goes to retreats, yoga mini-breaks, a spa, a health farm, even art classes… all of which I pay for, of course. What do I get back in return? Nothing."
So today's concept of a wife "having it all", simply put, means never doing anything personally if she can pay someone else to do it for her. And if she can't find someone else, her husband must do it.
"To be frank," said another unfortunate husband, "I was conned. And I'm by no means the only one. There's a pattern of behaviour that these wives all adopt."
There are five tell-tale signs, apparently. First, she gives up work, ostensibly to care for the brood, only to have the children packed off to either boarding school or intensive (ie, lots of extra-curricular activities) private day schools.
Secondly, she suddenly wants to move somewhere more rural/suburban that suits her idea of family life, yet location-wise is horrendous for her exhausted, ever-commuting husband.
Thirdly, she demands wall-to-wall help, which nearly always includes an abused Filipina who works 12-14 hours a day, six days a week.
Fourthly, she refuses to fulfil in any way the traditional contract of the non-working spouse in terms of doing anything for her husband (such as cooking), while, fifthly, she expects her husband to fulfil the traditional but anachronistic male role in the household (such as paying all the bills).
Here is a typical day outlined by one husband of a toxic wife.
5.30am: Husband leaves for London. 7.45am: Filipina brings wife tea in bed. 8am: Nanny takes children to school. 8.30am: Breakfast, suduko and the papers. 9.30am-4pm: God knows; possibly gym, spa, shopping, boozy lunch with friends, nap or massage. 4pm: Nanny collects children from school. 5.30pm: Nanny gives children tea and goes home. 7pm: Filipina gives children bath. 7.30pm: Wife disappears off to book group. 9pm: Husband returns and roots around for an M&S ready-meal. 10.30pm: Wife returns. Bed. 10.35pm: Sex? In your dreams.
If the above timetable seems hideously parasitic, it is, and so is the woman behind it. The other day I nervously accepted an invitation for lunch with an old school friend. I felt daunted because, several years ago, she married a rich banker and I'd been dumped from her circle.
"Sorry I'm late," I said on arriving at her mansion. "Got stuck in traffic so bad it gave me road rage."
"Road rage?" replied Olivia, her eyes swivelling down to my shoes and up to my hair in a split, judgmental second. "Well, I'm suffering from maid rage. I mean, come and look…"
She led me into her kitchen, three times the size of my flat, and slid open a drawer. "How shoddy is that?" She was holding up a fork.
"What's wrong with it?" I asked, peering at it politely.
"Just look! It has a disgusting piece of encrusted mashed potato on it. I mean, it's so shoddy! She can't even unload a dishwasher. I'm really going to have to sack her. And guess what else I discovered this morning? When I opened the towel cupboard after my bath, I noticed that she'd stacked the pink towels amongst the white ones. Can you believe it?"
What made this conversation so scary was the fact that the terrified Filipina was in the room with us, hunched over a table slicing up bits of duck and foie gras for our lunch. "Juanita!" snapped Olivia. "This is your last chance. Do you understand me? You'll be back in Manila within the week… I couldn't possibly recommend you to anyone. Understand?"
"Yes Madam," she sniffed with a tremulous sob.
"And stop dripping your revolting bodily fluids over our lunch. Throw that away and start again. "
Horrified by her manner and the distressing scene, I asked her for a tour of her home. She had just moved into one of those massive houses in Chelsea Square. Rich folk tolerate people like me (ie, broke ones) only because we make them feel better about themselves.
"Would love to, darling," she drawled, "but first how about a drinkie-poo? Juanita! Open the champagne chilling in the wine fridge and bring it upstairs to the south drawing-room."
"Yes Madam," replied the poor slave.
"I won't have any, thanks," I said. "I'm driving and have to pick my children up from school."
"You mean you don't have a nanny to do it?" Olivia's eyes glared with horror. "I have the most delightful Norland one. Although the uniform is brown and ghastly, they are so well trained. She's downstairs in the basement doing my ironing at the moment…"
This was now utterly surreal. I had no idea that real people lived like this. Yet, minute by agonising minute, it got worse. I tried a bit of light humour.
"Well, let's hope she's not weeping tears on to your party dresses, eh?"
"What?" snapped Olivia.
"Well, then you'd ask her to redo the whole lot again, wouldn't you?"
"Possibly," she replied. "But a little moisture is no bad thing when ironing out the creases…"
Was she exhibiting a dry wit? I didn't know. In her pre-toxic wife days, she was amusing and droll. Now we were different beings living in parallel universes. She showed me lavish room after lavish room, and at one point I heard some strange shuffling coming from one of her closets. Maybe her life is not so perfect after all, I thought; maybe she has rats.
As we sat down to lunch in the "informal" dining-room adjacent to the kitchen in an open-plan L-shape, I noticed that Juanita was eating a rather more humble repast slightly around the corner; although I couldn't see all of her, I could detect an elbow jutting out from time to time.
"She won't be joining us then?"
"Are you mad?" cried Olivia. "Why would I want to even see my servants?"
As if on cue, a wizened little Filipino man appeared, bowing and scraping. "Madam, I have finished all the shoes. I will go now, thank you madam." He hurried out.
"See you on Thursday as normal, Pedro," she replied, barely glancing at him.
"Where did he spring from?" I asked. After all, I'd just endured an exhaustive survey of her house, and there had been no sign of Pedro.
"Oh, he's our shoe polisher. He comes twice a week. He works in a cupboard – probably why you didn't notice him." No rats after all.
Here was an educated woman who spent her days rotting her brain with alcohol, and bossing an army of staff.
"Olivia," I said, "don't you miss your old job, your financial independence? Isn't all this a bit decadent?"
"Forget the work ethic," she laughed. "Why on earth would I want to struggle, feel tired and look old before my time?"
I left, more agitated than when I arrived. Forget road rage; I was suffering from toxic-wife rage. Driving to collect my children, the outside world felt like a haven of normality and peace. How I pitied these rich and successful men who had naively hoped for a domestic goddess, only to end up with a diva.
Wake up, toxic wives, the game is over. Your milch cows have seen the light of day. You are toxic, you are trouble and you are about to become extinct.
Any guy who plays golf all day when his wife has been up all week with a baby feeding at 11:00 p.m., 2:00 a.m. and 5:00 a.m. (and taking care of a two year old and four year old during the day) would be considered a selfish jerk by a lot of people, including my husband!
I don't put my kids up for adoption, but I have adopted. Your advice is noted, however.
Don't we all ... and I think they call that love .. ;)
Awwww .. c'mon now. Maybe going a little too far?
hahahaha
Yea, you gotta just keep on walking when you see a gal who spends more on shoes than some 3rd world nations national GDPs.
If I was in NYC, the ONLY women I'd even remotely consider dating would be 1st or second generation immigrants... I've spent enough time in Manhattan to know those are the only marrying kind you are going to find there.
Well marrying kind that aren't going to suck the soul out of you anyway.
"I find it interesting you referred to women who made more than the man...yet still received alimony. What state was this in? I don't know many women who make more than their male counterparts....if they're on the same level scholastically."
California. In TX, women still are not paid as well as their male peers. OTOH, I could not do the job my husband does as it requires knowledge of industrial facilities and all the infinite things that can go wrong due to people and/or eqpt.
In fact, the field of qualified persons is so limited that he's on the last stretch of his BS degree which the position required and couldn't find anyone with it who was capable!
You're a pretty special person, I think, and I apologize for what you could have taken as a bit of a nasty post. I'm glad you see I did NOT mean it that way.
What you describe happened to my parents. Mom put dad through med school, working all the time, and then he hung around with a nurse and she ditched him. She shouldn't have; he'd never have married that strumpet and she wasn't ever happy after dumping him and he never paid child support. We were better off without him - sorry, [/rant]
BTW .. the other shoe fits as well. I was very stupidly and naively too trusting in my 20's and 30's. Yup: 2 nuclear-level toxic men........ one an alcoholic (I didn't know then you could be an alcoholic from drinking *just* beer), and the other, who it turned out inherited the family cruelty and control disease >> talk about not trusting my own judgement .. whew!
ty for the welcome.
Aw Fred, the majority of us gals are not like that.
IMHO, the Bible explains the true definition of love in that love is about sacrifice and that's without a doubt, always a 2-way street in marriage.
Regardless, I completely agree with your observations and assessments. Hmmmm. Just think what may run through one's mind at the end of their time here on earth when, if there's any true conscious to be found still in their heart(s), that all they managed to do in a lifetime is focus on image, material possessions and the constant application of deceit and selfishness to obtain it and flaunt it?
I thought I could make things work....with a very uncooperative spouse. Afterwards...it took a few years to get over the fact I'd lost my "superwoman cape"...and realize the only person we can change .....is ourselves.
I do miss the security I felt in having a marriage....but don't miss the turmoil. :)
I can't tell you how many times I have been asked that question. I have never asked it of any man. The real world is not like FR where the men think they are innocent victims of evil, gold digging skanks. There are plenty of opportunistic male gold diggers out there who want nothing more than a woman to support them.
It's natural to feel grief when a marriage is lost. Been there, done that! I worry that our girl is engaged to a man who's very 'thrifty' and makes much more than she does, yet expects her to pay half of everything...even after they marry!
She already admitted she has no money left after bills, yet she wants her own account to make purchases without having to get permission. Sheesh, no wonder his first wife dumped him.
I'm glad you're a good mom and that you are free to enjoy your life!
Well...knock that girl down and drag her backwards from the altar! She has no idea what she's getting into. :)
I wonder if 'Desperate Housewives' has anything to do with this? :)
Thank you, Froufrou, for adding me!
I trust you completely, but may I ask you to what thingie I've been added?
;-)
The singles ping list (but you were already on it)
Hi!
Usually during day I work & take FReep breaks. Today I FReeped & took work breaks.
Like today better than other days
Hello, Dolly!
Sounds like today is a good day for you... it's good here, too - it's cooooold and I luuuuv it!
Mutual respect in the context of a marriage with God present forestalls any hidden agendas where selfishness dwells or emotional baggage prevails.
But I've only learned this from all my buddies who don't hold marriage in the idealistic esteem I do. Of course they are all married and I'm not. :)
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