I love New York City. Absolutely love it. It’s the only place where you can eat the world’s most delicious perogies at 5am just because you can. But, as I’ve vented about in the past, the rich kids who clog Manhattan make it fucking unbearable at times.
The most recent stupid rich kid obsession is a credit card that’s not even a fucking credit card. It’s called Magnises and it’s a rewards card that synchs to your other credit cards (where you pay the bills). It just tacks on a stupid $250-a-years fee for “perks” to some of the most idiotic shit YOU ALREADY HAVE ACCESS TO BY LIVING IN NEW YORK CITY. A few examples from their website:
Ohhhhh… How faux-elite. Let’s breakdown how silly this all is:
1. “Restaurants” – Ever heard of Open Table? Shit, getting into Carbone and Catch are easy if you have three seconds to PLAN THE FUCK AHEAD.
2. “Shopping” – There are shops in New York City; Believe it or not, they like it when people walk into them.
3. “Fitness” – There are almost as many Pilates studios, yoga studios, and one-on-one sesh gyms in Lower Manhattan than there are cupcake stores.
4. “The Townhouse” – Ooooo! A clubhouse to hang in! YOU ARE PAYING $3000 a MONTH FOR A FUCKING ONE BEDROOM. Is that not enough to hang out in? Want to hang out with your friends? Then Go. To. A. Fucking. Bar.
5. “Hotels” – Since no one has heard of/gives a shit about a Magnises outside of New York City, why the fuck would you use it at the W in New Orleans when you can rack up those sweet, sweet Starwood points with another form of payment? And If you live in Manhattan, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU NEED A HOTEL IN MANHATTAN FOR? Banging hookers, clearly. I’m starting to think this card is for high-end hooker johns who pay for pussy.
6. ”Transportation” – The description literally says “Ride in style with hand-picked drivers.” But what does that mean? It gives you access to BMW 7L with a driver, which means you look like a douchebag wherever you go around town. Yo, if there are hand-picked drivers, I want it to be DMX behind the wheel of a Town Car screaming “Where My Dogs At” while escorting my rich prick friends to the champagne room at Rick’s Cabaret.
7. “Bars and Clubs” – There are many bars and clubs in NYC. Unless you’re walking in while smoking meth out of a Diet Pepsi can, pretty much anyone can go inside.
8. “Private Events” – Who the fuck needs a credit card to have a social life?
I love that the founder admits in his New York Post profile that the whole thing is pretty much bullshit:
Magnises is “Latin for absolutely nothing,” admits McFarland, who launched the company in March. “The name is made up, but it sounds grand, doesn’t it?”
Forged in matte black stainless steel, the credit card is attempting to position itself as the hot new way to spend money among NYC’s young elite. Olympic hopefuls, scenester DJs, tech innovators and socialites like Nick Loeb (Sofia Vergara’s ex-fiancé) are among the 1,200 or so chosen ones who don’t leave home without it.
The fact that The Post gave this coverage is just proof that paying good PR people can pretty much get your start-up anything these days.
Maybe I don’t understand the ways of the world when it comes to rich people or why drinking in some stuffy townhouse surrounded by Picassos or Matisses has appeal to… anyone. Maybe it’s because I went to a state school and scorn elitist plutocrats who say smug things like this:
“[We like] smart people from great schools, so they have the family background and education,” explains Emir Bahadir, a real estate exec and an adviser to Magnises.
Commence the name-dropping. Sweet, sweet name-dropping, as if Nick Loeb wasn’t enough:
Members enjoy Magnises’ aspirational perks, including access to a BMW 7L and driver; a 24/7 concierge service that arranges concert tickets and prime weekend reservations at chic restaurants like Catch; and such freebies as a class at David Barton Gym and a round of shots at Asian buzzspot the General. There’s also a members-only hangout.
At a recent Brazilian-themed World Cup dinner at the Magnises townhouse in the West Village, pretty young things sipped Champagne and flirted with preppy boys beneath a smattering of Picassos and Matisses. Patrick McMullan, the 58-year-old nightlife photographer, held court — he has his own key and acts as a sort of mentor to the clubhouse crowd. (His DJ son Liam, 26, is also a member.)
Gwen Tetirick has cavorted at the clubhouse at least 20 times since becoming a member this spring. “When I get out of work early, I’ll go to the townhouse and get oysters and cocktails,” says the 23-year-old from Chelsea, who works in business planning. “I wanted someone to curate my life for me.” Cardholders swear Magnises membership is not about being flashy, but rather, paying for the good life in a more subtle — and, therefore, more exclusive — way.
If you sign up for this service because “you want someone to curate your life” for you, you’re not just a sucker…
You’re a douchebag.
Get an AMEX.
Or, better yet, have your dad get an AMEX for you. Isn’t that what having someone “curate your life” for you is all about?