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〃See you in a few then； yeah？〃 Damian said again。 〃You might want to lose the hat； though；〃 he
added gently before leaving the men's room。
The Raves were all about not having a look and not trying too hard。 Most of them still wore
clothes their moms had bought them in prep school… Lacoste polo shirts； Brooks Brothers khakis…
paired with something cool and absurdly expensive； like a custom…made kidskin trench coat from
Dolce & Gabbana。 But Dan's mom had fled to the Czech Republic with some balding； horny count
before he'd even started high school； so he didn't even own any polo shirts or khakis； only the
clothes he picked out for himself and paid for with the barely adequate clothing allowance Rufus
gave him。 He could feel his panic mounting。 Who was going to want to listen to a sick； skinny
high…school kid with a shaved neck wearing fashion…disaster yellow…and…black shoes？
You'd be surprised。
YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL AND YOUR MOTHER DRESSES YOU FUNNY
Skirt； shirt； bra； underwear； shoes； watch； pearl choker； pearl earrings… Serena stared at the clothes
her mom had laid out neatly on the end of her canopy bed。 Everything her mom had chosen was
gray or navy blue； which just happened to be Yale University's colors。
Hello； dorkdom！ Did she really need her mom to pick out her clothes？ How old was she； anyway…
five？
Her parents were in their suite of rooms； getting ready for Yale's University Yale Loves New York
party for ining freshmen from New York City at Stanford Parris III's apartment on Park
Avenue and Eighty…Fourth Street。 For them it was just another cocktail party… a chance to mingle
with the parents of the children their own children had gone to school and tennis lessons and SAT
prep with for most of their lives。 No one would know each other intimately； but everyone would
know everyone。 People like the van der Woodsens thought of everyone in their circle as their
dearest friends； but how intimate did you really want to be with someone like Stanford Parris III？
〃Are you almost ready； dear？〃 Serena heard her mother call out to her。
〃Yeah；〃 she called back； feeling stubborn and grumpy and annoyed。 After all； she could have been
on her way to the Raves gig right now instead of to another totally boring and useless party with
her parents。 Ignoring the outfit her mother had selected for her； she sat down in front of her IMac
and logged on。 Most of the e…mails were from fashion houses like launch a signature fragrance or
shoe； but a new message from someone at Brown topped the list； followed by a message from
Harvard； and one from Princeton。
To： SvW@vanderWoodsen。
From： apainter@brown。edu
Carina Serena；
I used to paint faceless angels and hands without bodies。 I used to be dead。 Now my art has a face；
and to have you here at Brown next year…oh living； breathing muse！ …would be my resurrection。
I kneel at your feet。
Christian
P。S There is a rumor you are engaged to that madman lead guitarist in the Raves。 My love； I pray
this is only a rumor。
To： SvW@vanderWoodsen。
From： bboy@harvarduniversity。edu
Dear Serena；
I know you and I are cut from a different cloth； so to speak… I'm a jock from the boondocks and
you're a goddess from New York City… but to quote a line from an old song； I just can't get you out
of my head。 When I think about you； the windows in my Jeep steam up and I can't breathe。 I'm
going to fail my finals because of you。 I don't think they make you repeat grades if you fail a term
in college the way they do in high school； but I wouldn't mind if they did； because then we'd be
together for even longer。 I know this is kind of crazy to say； but you're my girl； so you better e
to Harvard next year。 Here's to us for the next four years and forever。
Love；
Wade （your Harvard tour guide's roommate … remember me？）
To： SvW@vanderWoodsen。
From： Sheri@PrincetonTriDs
Dear Serena；
Just wanted to know that we can NOT stop talking about how you and Damian from the Raves are
like THE perfect couple！！ We are TOO excited to meet him； but first we have to take down all the
pictures of him plastered all over our house… SO embarrassing！ Give Damian a kiss for us； and tell
him we love him too （even though we'd NEVER try to steal away your guy）。
Love；
Your sisters； the Princeton Tri Delts
Serena winced and deleted all three stalkerish messages from her puter； hoping to delete the
last one from her brain。 There was nothing worse than a bunch of girls pretending to be your best
friends when you didn't even know them； all gossiping about you and your new rock star
boyfriend whom you'd never met。 Way to make her not want to go to college at all！
She logged off without reading the rest of her mail and pulled her luxurious fair hair back into a
messy ponytail with a plain white rubber band。 Then she smeared her lips with Vaseline and
opened her bedroom door to look for her parents。
The elder van der Woodsens had their own suite of rooms consisting of a large bedroom with a
massive four…poster bed； two dressing rooms with huge walk…in closets； two full bathrooms； and a
lounge with a wet bar they never used； a plasma TV they never watched； and a library full of rare
books they never read； because they were always out at charity dinners or the opera or watching
polo matches up in Connecticut。 It could have been an apartment all by itself； but it took up only a
quarter of the van der Woodsens' entire Fifth Avenue spread。
〃Didn't you see the clothes I laid out for you？〃 her mother demanded； sweeping her dark blue eyes
despairingly over her daughter。 Mrs。 Van der Woodsen was tall and fair like Serena； with the same
symmetrical features； which had grown haughtily handsome with age。 〃Jeans with holes in the
behind really aren't acceptable for this sort of occasion； don't you agree； dear？〃
〃They're not just nay old jeans；〃 Serena said； looking down at her faded pants。 〃They're my
favorites。〃
Actually； she owned around twenty pairs of jeans； but this particular pair of Blue Cults were this
week's can't…live…without…them。
〃The skirt and blouse I chose for you are just right；〃 her mother insisted。 She buttoned the jacket
of her gold Chanel suit and glanced at the antique platinum Cartier wristwatch fastened to her slim；
Santo Domingo… tanned wrist。 〃We're leaving in five minutes。 Your father and I will be reading the
newspapers in his study。 Don't be difficult； darling。 It's just a party。 You like parties。〃
〃Not this kind of party；〃 Serena grumbled。 Her mother raised her thin gray…blond eyebrows so
fiercely she decided not to mention that she'd much rather see the Raves play than schmooze with
a bunch of kids and their parents all gloating about the fact that they'd gotten into one of the
toughest colleges to get into in the world。
Serena went back to her room and grudgingly changed out of her jeans and into the gray pleated
Marc Jacobs skirt laid out on her bed； pairing it with a beaded aqua…colored t…shirt and her orange
Miu Miu clogs instead of the boring navy blue blouse and baby blue suede Tod's loafers her
mother had chosen。
And the pearls？ Sorry； mom。
Her last effort was to pull out the messy ponytail and run her fingers through her pale blond hair。
Then； without even a glance in the mirror； she strode out of her room and into the front hall。
If only we could all be so sure of our exquisite beauty。
〃Mom！ Dad！ I'm ready！〃 she trilled； trying to sound excited about it。 She'd give the party five or
ten minutes… just enough time for her parents to get involved in some supremely boring and
involved conversation with Stanford Parris III or one of the other ancient dull Yale alumni who'd
been attending these parties for centuries； than she'd slip out and head downtown to the Raves gig。
After all； if she was going to spend the next four years being intellectual； she needed to enjoy
herself while she had the chance。
As if she didn't always enjoy herself。
DRIFTING； DRIFTING； OVER THE OCEAN BLUE！
Jeremy； Charlie； and Anthony would not shut up about Bermuda； so when they got