To be honest, I've never been an avid Tatler reader. Which isn't to say I have anything against the publication as a whole – Lord knows someone's got to inform Count Nikolai Von Bismarck which members bar has the best dry-ice bidet, or the most servile door staff. Recently, though, the moneyed Marie Claire came to my attention via a tragic fuck-up involving some poor member of staff, an unforgiving revolving door and a once-prized and now dead dachshund. In retrospect, that whole ordeal sounds like the biggest nightmare of all time, and I feel pretty bad for everyone involved.
Still, they represent a world I've never really dipped into, so I turned to their website to find out more about the publication. Among columns with (pretty promising) names like "Hugo Rifkind's Lies to Tell Lefties" and lots of pieces about the children of 80s pop stars, I came across The Tatler List.