This story was originally published on Substack. For more on fashion, society, and the upper-class zeitgeist, follow Plum Sykes at P.S. by Plum.
I love my houseguests, I really do. But there are some I secretly love a teensy bit more than the others.
The ones I love a bit more are those who arrive bearing genius hostess gifts. By that I mean a pressie that I never knew I wanted but am literally breath-taken to receive. Sometimes, within that small pool of visitors bearing breathtaking gifts, a hierarchy emerges, and it is as though my very own SocialiteRank.com of houseguests has crept up on me.
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