Lois Finkelstein to the Fur Vault, Please.

This was the announcement coming forth from the speaker in the Macy's at Chestnut Hill as I entered the store today.



Yes, that's right. I was in Chestnut Hill today. I technically should be saying that I was in Brookline today, but even the prestigious and placial Brookline is way too low brow for the good people of Chestnut Hill. They've even gone to the trouble of procuring their own zip code, so as to be recognized officially as Chestnut Hill, and not just some Brookline enclave.

I've dabbled in Brookline before. I've spent my fair share of time in Coolidge Corner, and I've even been known to possess the boldness required to voluntarily venture into Brookline Village. But my time in Chestnut Hill has been limited strictly to physical therapy visits at New England Baptist satellite PT facility.

You might be wondering why going to Chestnut Hill is such a bizarre experience. Here's the thing...

Chestnut Hill is like a parallell universe to where the rest of us live. Every vehicle on the road is a BMW (7 series, at least!), Acura, Mercedes, Porsche, Lexus..you get the picture. I think they refuse to allow lesser vehicles to travel on the roadways and streets of Chestnut Hill. People are filthy rich. Not a single woman in Chestnut Hill holds down any kind of job. They don't have to. Their husbands bring home the bacon while the women stay at home with Tristen and Madeline. Actually, Tristen and Madeline stay home with the multiple nannies while Mommy goes to see Mrs. Finkelstein at the fur vault at Macy's. The houses look like this...





And those are just the little hovels at the side of the highways. The real estates are hidden from view of the masses and slobs like myself.

If you are not a Chestnut Hill person, which clearly I am not, real Chestnut Hill people seem to want to go out of their way to let you know that, although they'll deign to tolerate your presence in their little world, you're expected to take your leave of it as soon as is humanly possible.

Chestnut Hill is one of those places where even though people are living an absolutely charmed life, they always seem to be miserable. They are never happy. If they're in Starbucks, and the skim milk canister is empty, this is cause enough for a nervous breakdown. If they arrive at a cash register at the same time as you and you presume to approach the cashier first, they have to break out the cell phones and start calling their therapists to talk through their feelings of rejection. They don't believe in wearing watches because, after all, nothing starts until they arrive anyway. I always feel really stressed out when I'm in Brookline, never mind Chestnut Hill.

But anyway, the reason I was in Chestnut Hill today was that I did have an appointment with my back doctor. She is at Chestnut Hill on Fridays, as opposed to the hospital in "da hood" where she usually practices. The appointment was at 2:00, and when I looked up my gym online, (they have a gym in Chestnut Hill) I realized that there was a double step at the Chestnut Hill gym at 9:30. I thought it might be fun to check that gym out. My favorite instructor at Cambridge teaches there once a week and she assured me that the Chestnut Hill makes the Cambridge gym look totally getto. I was curious. Actually, the gym as three levels of membership. Level 1 is to have membership at one club only. Level 2 is to have membership at all of the urban clubs, except for Chestnut Hill. Level 3 is to have "all club" which includes Chestnut Hill. That membership is significantly more expensive. I guess that's one sure way to make sure they can keep the rif-raf away from the noble Chestnut Hill population.

So, that was it. I decided to go to the Chestnut Hill gym. I couldn't believe the place when I walked in. The sheer luxury of the surroundings was unbelievable to me. The bathrooms have those sort of stone, flat sinks, and all the fixtures are slate/stone. The tile work is beautiful and the vanity areas are totally tricked out with lit magnified mirrors, really expensive hairdryers with all the appendages close by, Aveda body lotion (at Cambridge we have some no-name brand crap) and all kinds of other bells and whistles.

The actual gym was gorgeous. The studios are huge, well ventilated and lit and the equipment was gleaming and brand spanking new. The weight machines were all well oiled and brand new, as well.

It was awesome.

I know, I know. I'm all over the place, but my mind is spinning in Chestnut Hill overdrive right now.

As I mentioned, the cars are nicer. The houses are nicer. The gym is nicer. Oddly enough, even the department stores we've all seen a million different times (same store, different mall), were different!

Take for example Macy's. Now, there is a fur vault area in the downtown Boston Macy's, but it is empty, long since forgotten. It is now an impromptu employee break area where the workers sneak cigarettes. The fur vault at Chestnut Hill Macy's is, however, alive and kicking. And Lois Finkelstein is one of the busiest women in the place.




The Macy's over there is all broken down into little areas, each featuring the "pieces" of a different high end designer. Even the cosmetics department was like something out of a parallel universe. Many of the companies represented there were brand new to me (lipsticks for 50 dollars, etc). But, the thing is that the companies whose products I do know (Lancome, Origins, MAC) all had a different, really high end line of product for sale. It was not the same product that you see at the other Macys stores.

People were shopping up a storm, spending money with abandon. I had fun trying some stuff on, but the credit card stayed tucked safely away in my wallet. I'm not sure if my credit cards have a spending limit that would allow such purchases anyway.

Like I said, today I went to Chestnut Hill. I've seen how the other half live.

It was interesting to see, but I think I prefer life among this half.