The Ivy Chronicles
Table of Contents
A PLUME BOOK
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
PART 1 - The Limo Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore
1. The Girl from Park Avenue
2. Once Upon a Pink Slip
3. Misery Is a Choice
4. This Little Piggy Went to Private School
5. One Sick Fish
6. Desperate Times, Desperate Measures
7. Snubbed
8. You Gotta Have Friends
9. If You Have to Ask
10. Park Avenue Penniless
11. Nouveau Bitch
12. Closet Envy
13. Fired Becomes Her
PART 2 - Educating Ivy
1. Kindergarten Wars
2. Kiddie Corrupt
3. I Have a Feeling We’re Not on Park Avenue Anymore
4. Kratt’s Knishery
5. The Neighbor Downstairs
6. Admission Impossible
7. Party Pooper
8. Agony on the Upper East Side
9. Try, Try Again
10. Radical Humiliation
11. Manhattan Madness
12. The Best Publicity Money Can’t Buy
13. Surprising Developments
14. Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All About You
15. Scrambled Eggs to Go
16. Cubby’s Legacy
17. Tots with Résumés
18. Makeover in Manhattan
19. It’s Not About the Brains
20. Rarefied Heirs
PART 3 - Ivy on Her Own
1. Was It Something I Said?
2. Identity Crisis
3. Southampton Holiday
4. Sex on the Beach
5. Shocking News
6. Andy’s Open House
7. Extreme Makeover
8. Ivy the Brave
9. The Plot Thickens
10. Cabby with a Heart of Gold
11. A Tempting Offer
12. A Difference of Opinion
13. No Amount of Money . . .
14. I See Dead People
15. What About Me-ee?
16. Don’t Spit on the Nice Lady
17. The Bitch in Burberry
PART 4 - In Search of Class
1. A Cautionary Tale
2. Black Like Me
3. Mad About George
4. The Curse of the Kid Parent
5. Not Our Kind . . .
6. A Hoi Polloi Holiday
7. Oprah’s Favorite Things
8. A Mysterious Benefactor
9. An Unexpected Gift
10. On Second Thought
11. Happy New Year!
12. Behind Closed Doors
13. Nose-Pickers of Park Avenue
14. Let’s Go to Luckenbach, Texas
15. An Important Introduction
16. The Kids’ Limo
17. Snooty with a Chance of Attitude
PART 5 - The Importance of Being Accepted
1. Not to Be Rich and White in New York City
2. A Crisis of Conscience
3. Who Yo Daddy?
4. Undue Influence
5. Ivy in a Pickle
6. To Tell the Truth, Part 1
7. Fallout
8. Tipper Tells All
9. Buying Ivy
10. Shocking News
11. Private School Ugly
12. To Tell the Truth, Part 2
13. Stu Has a Bad Hair Day
14. Misery Is a Thin Envelope
15. Oops, We Did It Again
16. Friends
17. Romancing the Liver
18. To Tell the Truth, Part 3
19. Revenge
20. The Girl from Delancey and Orchard
A PLUME BOOK
THE IVY CHRONICLES
After losing her high-powered corporate job, KAREN QUINN started a business advising well-heeled Manhattanites on private-school admissions. The Ivy Chronicles was inspired by that experience. Today, she writes full-time and lives in New York City with her husband and two children. Karen no longer advises parents on school admissions.
“A very funny and frequently eye-popping tale of unnatural selection in the jungle of New York City’s private kindergartens. Karen Quinn introduces us to a crazy world where parental ambition gets passed on to kids like a disease and childhoods are traded like stocks. If you think you may be a neurotic parent, read this and feel sane.”
—Allison Pearson, bestselling author of
I Don’t Know How She Does It
“I laughed delightedly—but also with the wry laugh of a parent who had been there.”
—Elizabeth Buchan, author of Revenge of the Middle-Aged Woman
and Wives Behaving Badly (forthcoming)
“This entertaining novel, written by a former kindergarten admissions advisor, picks up where The Nanny Diaries left off.”—New York Post
“If the fact-based exposé of spoiled socialites and their offspring in The Nanny Diaries made you snicker, then tales of Manhattan’s elite trying to get their tots into private schools is sure to make you smirk condescendingly. . . . The Ivy Chronicles delivers.”—Boston Herald
“A better example of chick-lit . . . It’s fun watching Ivy strategize with all the nutty parents who hire her.”—Newsday
“Heartwarming . . . A guilty pleasure worth indulging.”—Booklist
“Hilarious, spirited, and wise. With humor and heart, Karen Quinn brilliantly skewers the insanely competitive world of wealth we love to hate. Readers will cheer for Ivy!”—Leslie Schnur, author of The Dog Walker
“A funny, female-friendly tome.”—Rocky Mountain News
“I channeled a hyena reading this delicious cackle-out-loud peek behind the brocade curtain of poodle-eat-poodle wealthy warriors who will stop at nothing to have their finest accessories (their children) land a coveted spot at the right schools. The brilliant, witty, and ultimately soulful heroine is a perfect tour guide who will leave you laughing up your latte.”
—Jill Kargman, coauthor of The Right Address and
Wolves in Chic Clothing
“The Ivy Chronicles is wicked and delightful. The world of New York City private-school admissions provides Karen Quinn with a cast of characters and ripped-from-the-headlines scenarios that will have insiders squirming and readers enthralled. Comparisons to The Nanny Diaries are inevitable, but The Ivy Chronicles is much funnier and darker and introduces Karen Quinn as a delightful new chronicler of our age.”—Katharine Weber, author of The Little Women
“An entertaining peek into private schools from one who’s been there. Fun to read!”—Janice Kaplan, coauthor of The Botox Diaries
“Karen Quinn’s The Ivy Chronicles gives us a delicious glimpse into the sinister world of kindergarten admissions. It will teach you things you may not want to know—about status-obsessed parents who use their toddlers for their own social-climbing ambitions. Prepare yourself for a shocking, funny, and outrageous read.”
—Amanda Filipacchi, author of Nude Men and Love Creeps
“I’m still laughing. The wonderfully witty Karen Quinn fills her page-turner with amazing characters, from the awful to the awesome. This exotic journey into private-school mania is fascinating, surprising, a little scary, and, in Quinn’s hands, very funny.”
—Bonnie Marson, author of Sleeping with Schubert
PLUME
Published by Penguin Group
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Published by Plume, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. Previously published in a Viking edition.
First Plume Printing, February 2006
Copyright © Karen Quinn, 2005
All rights reserved
REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA
The Library of Congress has catalogued the Viking edition as follows:
Quinn, Karen, 1955-
The Ivy chronicles / Karen Quinn.
p. cm.
eISBN : 978-0-452-28722-8
1. Kindergarten—Admission—Fiction. 2. Preschool children—Fiction. 3. Parent and
child—Fiction. 4. New York (N.Y.)—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3617.U575I99 2005
813’.6—dc22 2004057168
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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To my mother, Shari Nedler, who can do anything,
and who taught me to believe that I can do the same.
To my father, Sonny Nedler, who is my guardian angel.
Never have I felt so heavenly blessed.
Acknowledgments
The Ivy Chronicles would never have been published if not for the help of a great many generous people. I wish to thank Pam Dorman, who saw the potential in my manuscript and then showed me how to make it better. Special gratitude to Clare Ferraro, Rakia Clark, Carolyn Coleburn, Ann Day, Alex Gigante, Mindy Im, Judi Powers, Nancy Sheppard, Julie Shiroishi, Kevin Che, and all the talented people at Viking who brought this book to life. A heartfelt thanks to Susanne Baboneau and Kate Lyall-Grant for publishing The Ivy Chronicles abroad. Much appreciation to Sarah Nundy at Andrew Nurnberg Associates and Shari Smiley and Sally Willcox at CAA. Merci beaucoup to my Renaissance friend, Stuart Calderwood, who copyedited this book not once but twice. I am forever indebted to Robin Straus, agent extraordinaire, for taking me on. And God bless Beverly Knowles, our babysitter and member of the Jamaican branch of the Quinn family, for finding me an agent. Is there nothing Bev can’t do?
Every day, I thank my lucky stars for Mark Quinn, my amazing husband, who never once suggested that I get a real job. I owe a huge debt to my children, Schuyler and Sam Quinn, without whose tuition bills this book would never have been written. Special acknowledgment to Sam Quinn for all the funny things he said that found their way into these pages. And no, Sam, I will not pay you a commission. I want to express my deep-felt appreciation to Shari Nedler and Judith Levy, whose laughter and encouragement in the very beginning kept me writing. I am profoundly grateful to a few extraordinary people whose insightful comments and personal support will always be remembered: Don Nedler, Michael Nedler, Candice Olson, Judith Kahn, and Eva Okada, and special thanks to Kathleen Stowers, for going above and beyond the call of duty.
To Roxana Reid, my former partner and co-founder of Smart City Kids, who is the quintessential admissions adviser—patient, knowledgeable, ethical, sympathetic, and hysterically funny. If I ever need to get one of my children into school, you’re the one I’ll call. To my fabulous clients, especially those who had just graduated from Pull-Ups when first we met—I’m still rooting for you. Thanks to Drayton Bird, who so graciously lent me his name for my baddie. (To set the record straight, the real Drayton is as good a man as they come.) Thanks also to all my other friends who allowed me to use their names in the story for smaller but no less important roles. To Om Dutta Sharma, the selfless New York City cab driver who did indeed start a school for girls in Doobher Kishanpur, India: If true generosity begins with sacrifice, then you are the real thing. For more information about Mr. Sharma’s school, write to: Pt. Sitaram Balkishan Charitable Trust, 6115 Broadway, Woodside, New York 11377.
And finally, while space prevents me from acknowledging everyone’s specific contribution to The Ivy Chronicles, I want to thank the following people who walked with me for part of this journey: Matt Auterson, Jerry Bauer, Meris Blumstein, Ellen Bregman, Claire Chasnoff, Margaret Cooper, Stacy Creamer, Robin Daas, Jennifer Deare, David and Lisa Drapkin, my e-group, Judy Finnigan, Keith Fisher, Victoria Goldman, Ken Gomez, Phyllis Goodman, Pat Hurlock, Carole Hyatt, Marla Isackson, Scottie Iverson, Stephen Jones, Barbara Kanter, Gail Kenowitz, Susan Kleinberg, Holly Kylberg, Monica Langley, Richard Madeley, Chivaun Mahoney, Francesca Marc-Antonio, Bonnie Marson, Jeff Miller, Murray Miller, Peter Olson, Jodi Paulovich, Beth Phoenix, Marvys Pou, Avi Portal, Lynne, Wendy, Janet, and Ted Quinn, Amanda Ross, Nancy Schulman, Brooke Stachyra, the staff at Sonny’s Fine Jewelry in Denver, Linda Spector, Robin Freedman Spizman, Christian and Victoria Tse, Warner Brothers, Jerry Weintraub, John and Barbara White, Danna Wiepking, Jennifer Wilen, and Catherine Zeta-Jones.
A Note to Readers
The author worked as a consultant, helping hundreds of New York City families through the private, public, and nursery-school admissions process, and this story was inspired by that experience. The Ivy Chronicles, however, is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, incidents, and the schools portrayed in the story are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual names, people, organizations, places, events, incidents, and schools is coincidental. In addition, certain public figures make brief appearances in the story. They have been included without their knowledge or cooperation. Their interaction with the fictional characters is a product of the author’s imagination and is not intended to be understood as negatively reflecting on anyone or having actually taken place. Although some real New York City institutions and people are mentioned, all are used fictitiously.
PART 1
The Limo Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore
1. The Girl from Park Avenue
Konrad insisted that everyone be at his desk by 7:45 A.M. No exceptions. It would be sexist, he said, to cut the mothers on the team any slack. Easy for him to say. He had a stay-at-home wife and two full-time nannies to handle his family’s morning drill. You know, we each have one. In my case—walk the dog, dress the kids, make breakfast, rinse the dishes, supervise brushing, flossing, and bed-making, look for lost homework, load u
p backpacks, while at the same time getting myself out of bed, showered, dressed, made up, and out the door.
The race continues on the street: grab a cab, drop Sir Elton at doggie day care, and deliver the girls to their overpriced early-bird program. If I’ve gotten this far by seven, I’ll have just enough time to sprint to the subway at 86th and Lex and shoot down to Fulton Street. Finally, jump off the train, drop a dollar into the PLEASE FEED ME I’M HUNGRY lady’s cup, zip into the building, dash toward my elevator bank after a quick stop at Starbucks for coffee light, two Sweet’n Lows, and a bagel to go, and declare victory if my butt hits the chair and the clock hasn’t struck 7:45.
Technically, my unemployed husband could have handled the morning routine. What I mean is, it would have been physically possible for him to manage it if he didn’t insist on sleeping until 9:00. Yeah, I know. I should have been tougher. But trust me, it was easier to handle it myself than fight the battle. Cad had been unemployed for eight months. A derivatives trader at Bear Stearns, he was fired after betting wrong on Russian government debt. Still he persisted in living like nothing had changed. He would have hired someone for the A.M. job, but given our financial state and the fact that neither of us spends enough time with the girls, I couldn’t agree. Plus, let’s face it, what man takes charge of the morning marathon? Yes, of course, there are exceptions, perhaps in a parallel universe, but not in my world.
On this particular day, I just wanted to snuggle back into my warm Duxiana bed with its heavenly feather duster and yummy down quilt, the bedding I’d acquired at ABC Carpet and Home for the price of a small car. Mmmm, that would feel delicious. Already I’d completed the usual routine while also swinging by Duane Reade for the glitter hairspray Skyler and Kate wanted for Chanukah. It was 7:47 when I arrived at the twenty-first-floor offices of Myoki Bank, where I was a vice president of some stature. It felt like I’d already put in a day.