While pointing to posts for W I came across this hilarious little game on Guest of a Guest and had to include it in my weekly roundup for W and here. Remember when you could figure out your porn star name by combining your pet name with the street you were born on? Well this is just like that only much more upscale. This game allows you to figure out what your name would be if you were really born with an Upper East Side pedigree, and while I admit that socialites are the most boring celebrities, there is something about this exercise that is irresistible. Maybe its the bar cart in name form, or maybe its like when you buy a lottery ticket and think about what you would do if you actually won.

In this fantasy Francesca Castagnoli is transformed to Lolly Pulitzer. Which I have to say is a pretty seductive. Would my life be so different as a Pulitzer, would I be Lolly because my great aunt is Lilly? Maybe? On a cold January morning its fun to think about it.  As for the rest of my family: David Moore = Tyler Casiraghi. Conrad Moore = Champion Casiraghi. Dashiell Moore = Tyler Casiraghi II. Our babysitter, Jessica Himmel = Muffy Santo Domingo. Once you start, its hard to stop.

Here’s the whole post from GofaG. Oh and your guess is as good as mine as to why Julia Reston Roitfiled (far left) is doing a Joker impersonation.

Julia Restoin Roitfeld, Genevieve Jones, Valesca Guerrand Hermes, Lauren Santo Domingo, Tinsley Mortimer, Zani Gugelmann…if you want to take your seat next to these ladies next month at Fashion Week, you’re going to have to get yourself a new name.-

It’s not just breeding (and social climbing) that sets these ladies apart; their delightfully unique and pedigreed names are a must for fitting in with the UES set, and let’s face it, “JESSICA SMITH” doesn’t look as good splashed across Page Six as “TINSLEY MORTIMER” does.

If you think your name is too boring or weird, pick out a new one for yourself based on our list, using the first letter of your first and last name.

For instance, The Guest of a Guest Team, transformed into WASP-y Socialites, would be:

Editor In Chief: Rachelle Hruska Charlotte Santo Domingo
Publisher: Cameron Winklevoss Champion Spencer
Managing Editor: Sarah Mandato Georgina Casiraghi
Associate Editor: Chiara Atik Tippy Darlington
Advertising: James Brooks Stanton Gaffney
Event Manager: Sarah Kunst Georgina Guinness
Staff Writer: Billy Gray Chip Bancroft
Editor At Large: Stanley Stuyvesant Stanley Stuyvesant

Find  your Sociallite Name below, and you’ll go from Deborah Denise Tractenberg to Devorah Rose in an instant!

Letter      Female          Male                   Last Names

A            Bee                Paul                     Darlington
B            Blaine            Chip                    Gaffney
C           Tippy             Champion            Pulitzer
D           Madison        Tyler                    Kensington
E            Lydia             Topper                 Buckley
F            Lolly              Brooks                 Bronfman
G            Blakeley        Preston                Bancroft
H            Veronica       Spencer               Santo Domingo
I             Mimosa         Thaddeus            Platt
J             Muffy            Stanton               Hearst
K            Plum             Heathcliff            Guinness
L            Tinsley          Dexter                Astor
M           Parker           Euan                    Casiraghi
N           Dibby            Rufus                  Wilde
O           Celerie          Julian                   van der Rohe
P            Poppy           Andres                 Archer
Q           Bettina          Campion               Vanderbilt
R           Charlotte       Archie                   Roosevelt
S           Georgina        Rupert                  Tisch
T           Bitsy              Cooper                  Bouvier
U           Serena           Anderson              Mercer
V           Vivian           Tres                       Mortimer
W          Evelyn           Brooklyn                 Spencer
X           Caroline        Parker                     Rockefeller
Y           Mercedes      Alston                     Remington
Z           Daisy            Talbot                     Roitfeld

Decor club went on a little excursion yesterday to a stone works warehouse because my friend Stacie is redoing her mantel. She’s having it custom done and was interested in something modern and subtle, like brushed limestone—until I got into the picture. She invited me along to make sure her choice would be bullet proof and would ensure she could resell her house easily when the time comes. Her mantel is going to be this shape:

But I think the real reason she invited me along was to have a moment to fantasize before she played it safe, so I tried to persuade her to make a statement. First we stumbled, literally onto this spectacular piece of blue Lapis. When I pointed it out to her, the owner said, “You like that? Its the most expensive thing in here.”

But he can’t sell it because it has too much white and was dropped and has a lot of little cracks in it. Then I found this:It’s gorgeous and scary and a crazy risk. Stacie tried to imagine it but it made her dizzy, so much so she had a tripping incident.But I still think it would be spectacular. It’s Turkish marble and very rare. It looks like mountains from the Hobbit. I know it would be like inviting friends and family to have an LSD trip in your house every time you hung stockings (not that you would on that kind of fireplace), but I just love it. I admit that seeing it dusty and undiscovered probably makes it seem more chic than seeing it in installed and polished in your home. It is a brown, mindbending slab of marble and there’s a good chance it would plunge her home back to a time when women actually wore Jean Natay in an unironic way so I didn’t push too hard. When I asked the owner about it he laughed again and told Stacie she shouldn’t shop with me. The Turkish slab is the second most expensive piece after the Lapis. More than seven times what she wants to spend. Clearly I need to stick to throw pillows. But I know it could work, I really do.

I’m tired of Lady Gaga in real life, but I came across these photos on refinery29.com and was dazzled. I love her in Barbie-size. These are custom recreations of her fashion ensembles made by a doll “player” (think “gamer” but instead of playing with a PSP, he crafts chic outfits for dolls) named Veik, a 29-year-old from Beijing. Here’s a fashion show. His Alexander McQueen “Alien shoe” below is spot on.

Conrad got married in Kindergarten at PS 58. He was 5 year’s old. Eva, his bride was six. Then we moved to New Jersey and he didn’t see Eva until the summer when a friend had a party at Victoria Gardens and they rode the flying swing ride holding hands about ten times—no exaggeration—and then he gave her the stuffed dragon he won playing Wack-a-Mole. Seeing them together made me realize how important their friendship, uh, commitment to each other was. I wanted to say to Conrad, why didn’t you tell me how much you liked and missed Eva? But then I remembered that he was the boy part of this relationship and he wasn’t going to be swooning at six, at least not in front of me.

We tried to keep in touch and invited Eva to his birthday party last year, she came out to Montclair but I think it was a disappointing visit. I saw her sitting next to Conrad at his party, but I could tell she was feeling alone as he talked with all his new friends.  Its hard to be the old flame in your boyfriend’s new town.

Conrad let Eva go and we didn’t really know what to do about it. David in particular would say out of the blue that we should  get them together. So when Eva’s mom emailed me to for our address because Eva wanted to send Conrad a birthday card a few weeks ago I suggested we have lunch in the city and make it a yearly tradition (Hello Vows column!).

We met at Sweetiepie in the West Village on Sunday, a chic ice cream parlor decked out with wall and ceiling mirrors and tufted banquettes. It is like a modern take on Rumplemeyer’s, the ice cream parlor that used to be at the St. Moritz where stuffed animals—poodles and afagans and lions—would sit at white rod iron tables eating faux ice cream sundaes. Emily, Eva’s mom and I had soup and salads (very good!), the kids had fish and chips and broccoli (they sauteed the broccoli and shallots and it was so tasty we brought ours home) and ice cream sundaes. I don’t think their reunion could have been sweeter.