Desperate Hollywood housewives

During a recent eight-hour business trip to Beverly Hills I found myself browsing around the Neiman Marcus department store — just as I did in the old days, before I moved to New York. The shop is usually overpriced (it’s known as “Needless Markup”), but it was sale time and I needed a pair of sandals for an imminent wedding in Australia.

As I perched on one of the plush, armless sofas I began the arduous task of competing with scores of Hollywood stars, studio executives, talent agents — and the spouses of all three categories — for the attention of a salesperson.

Before long I spied the actress Joan Collins, chic in a black dress and hat, shopping with her pal Betsy Bloomingdale.

“Hello Joan, hello Betsy.” I rose for the obligatory air-kissing.

“Pamela!” said Joan in her high nasal trill. “Nice to see you.”

She peered at the boxes at my feet, then radiated an approving smile. “Oh, Manolos!” she exclaimed. “Billy must be doing well!”

At the time, Joan’s comment made me laugh quite heartily. It wasn’t until that evening, when I was a full gin and tonic into a 14-hour flight across the Pacific, that I began to dissect it — and a bitter taste rose to my mouth.

Embedded in that comment was the irksome assumption that I was wholly dependent on my husband — even for shoes. Strange, I thought, that Joan, who is herself a successful working woman, should have said that to me.

Later, though, over dessert, I mused that in Hollywood her comment would be seen as a compliment, because an important attribute of any successful man’s wife is her ability to wear her husband’s wealth — just in case anyone has any doubts about it. Of course she needs to get her look exactly right; not too flashy, but recognisably and undeniably impressive.

For black-tie premieres and charity events Valentino or Chanel will do the trick while Versace and Dolce — being less modest — will not. For dinner Californian casual is de rigueur; yet that particular look is terribly hard to achieve (Armani or Dries Van Noten would probably hit the right note).

As the movie director Dennis Dugan said to me shortly after I arrived to live in California in 1990: “You have to spend five hours and a lot of cash trying to look like you’ve just rolled out of bed.” Nowadays, of course, a serious Hollywood wife’s annual clothing budget could hit $200,000 (£100,000).

Then you have to have the right baubles. Starting a conversation with an A-lister ceases to be a problem if you’re wearing a piece by a hot new jewellery designer that screams: “I bought this at the same private trunk show you attended last week!”