Op-Ed: Cashmere Mafia is for the dogs

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Op-Ed: Cashmere Mafia is for the dogs
I'd rather swim with sharks than meet these women in a dark alley.

The characters on Cashmere MafiaLike a vulture to roadkill, I flocked to the first episode of Cashmere Mafia last night. In the process of watching, I thoroughly confused my boyfriend, who, in his defense, probably wasn't the ideal co-viewer: For nearly an hour I gesticulated wildly at the TV, then turned to shoot him incredulous looks that said, "Can you believe this %&$?"

"Then why are you watching?" he countered, rationally.

He had a point. I guess I wanted to see if these characters would eventually redeem themselves. Cashmere Mafia was clearly slated to be an oh-so-2008 battle of the sexes, but, as depicted, I wouldn't want to play for either team. The male characters certainly weren't likable: With the exception of a cameo by a relatively avuncular boss, they seemed to be either lying, cheating scoundrels or seeming "good guys" who proffer diamonds on bent knee—only to retract the offer if their egos get bruised.

And yet, given the choice, I think I'd rather kill time with them than these sad, one-dimensional shells of women. Sure, they have good points: They dress nicely, have each other's backs, and multi-task like a dream, but I wouldn't want them as girlfriends. More than talented, well-dressed, well-rounded women, who it'd be a riot to down a bottle of Rioja with, they struck me as, yes, a tight-knit clique—and the type of chicks who not only shun any female who threatens them (which is most), but, who, if they don't get their own way, also won't hesitate to eat their mates' heads for dessert.

If it sounds harsh, I admit, I may be influenced by something else my boyfriend and I can't seem to turn off lately: BBC's Planet Earth—a stunning documentary series about both the beauty of our planet and nature at its most primitive. The funny part is, the Mafia women remind me less of Sex and the City and more of a school of hungry, flashy piranhas I watched nibble anything in their path to its death the other night. And while it's fine for creatures in the wild to tear each other apart limb by limb—after all, that's how they eat—now we have Whole Foods, so what's this species' excuse?

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