DealBreaker

A Dealbreaker reader was out and about on the Upper West Side, and something caught his eye. He moved in for a closer look, snapped a photo, and sent it to Dealbreaker. Our colleague Bess Levin has been having a grand old time ever since.

Me? I just want people to see it before they go to law school. I want people to see it before they write television shows about the lavish lifestyle of lawyers, or complain that young lawyers feel a sense of entitlement.

But mostly, I want somebody out there to get me a wide angle shot of the photo — I’m in the market for these services…

double red triangle arrows Continue reading “From Laid-Off Lawyer to… Cleaning Lady!”

You know the old joke: How many Harvard men does it take to screw in a light bulb? Just one; he holds the bulb in place while the world revolves around him.

Many a Harvard man takes that approach to household maintenance, professional endeavors, and even dating. You’re not going to believe this, but some people who graduate from Harvard are real douchebags. Some of them think that just by dint of having gone to Harvard, people will love them, respect them, and shower them with jobs and money. They even make up special phrases for mentioning where they go/went to school, like “dropping the H-Bomb.”  Good God, get over yourselves. I’m sure glad my own blazing Harvard credentials, which I keep in special pouch around my neck, have never once prevented me from interacting with the little people in a way that makes them feel like we are all the same species. I’m magnanimous like that.

In all seriousness, there are of course enormous, self-important jackasses who graduate from Harvard, but there are also more than enough people who gladly buy into the Harvard mystique. Now there’s a dating site dedicated to bringing the Crimson and their sycophants together. As they say in Wicked, “they deserve each other.”

Let’s take a closer look….

double red triangle arrows Continue reading “Date Harvard Men Without Streetwalking Down Mass Ave.”

Muffie Benson Perella Dealbreaker.jpg[Ed. note: This is a cross-post from one of our sister sites, Dealbreaker, which we thought you might appreciate because of its focus on an ATL celebrity: the recently indicted, high-profile litigator, Marc Dreier.]

Muffie Benson-Perella (muffie AT muffmarkets.com) was an Associate in the Investment Banking Division of a “Bulge Bracket” bank. She holds a B.A. in French and Art from Vassar College and an M.B.A. from Harvard Business School. She concentrated in Contemporary French Poetry at prep school where she was awarded the exclusive premiership of the school’s “French Club.” Today, Ms. Benson-Perella is the Founder and Managing Director of “Muffie on Markets” (http://www.muffmarkets.com), a deep dive into capital markets, finance and investment strategy. She is also the Founder and Managing Director of Muff Cap, LLC., an invitation only, private investment vehicle for non-existent, prestigious and accredited investors only, employing an actively managed, long-short strategy.

There are few things as shameful as the deteriorating state of art and culture in this country. It will come as no surprise to my loyal readers, then, that the subtle, magnificent craft of portraiture appears utterly lost in a thick fog of mediocrity and a pretentious depthlessness. Of course, I can only refer to the latest visual representation of Marc S. Drier (for I cannot bring myself to call it a “picture” or “drawing” much less “art.”)

It is the essence of such representations that their creation at least attempt to rise to the level of their subject. In this case, admittedly, that is a tall order. The almost uniformly elegantly dressed senior partner of Park Avenue law firm Dreier LLP, Dreier presents a rich, complex texture, shot through with conflicts, dark veins of opposing forces, their churning opposition pressing the envelopes of the psyche, yearning for nothing but escape, escape, escape. Contrast the subtle signs of whirlwinds below the impeccable exterior with the rarely seen, but palpable, open, unshorn rouge and we can forgive him his undergraduate transgressions at Yale, for he certainly redeemed himself at Harvard Law thereafter, and this institutional combination, fatal in any weaker, less featured personality, permits Dreier to wear scruff like a bright ascot, an opportunity he occasionally indulges to juxtapose polished Fifth Avenue class with the suggestion that “That whole Yale thing” might not be that far from the surface, even after all these years.

There is a brazen yet subtle boldness in Dreier, the kind of audacity that mounts his brilliant deceptions in full view of the world, in the fishbowl of a glass-walled conference room, taunting the prospect of discovery as office staff who might at any time recognize him, call him the wrong name, plunge him into drowning, downward spiraling agony, walk by and casually glance through ethereal walls of glass that offer scant protection. The pulsing rhythm of office traversal, and throbbing mechanics of discovery. And who can deny the social genius of targeting Canadian Teachers and U. S. Real Estate firms as the foils of a fraud designed to sap the savviest of hedge funds? The very fabric of his machinations: wry social commentary.

Read the rest of the post, and comment, over at DealBreaker.


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