One of the papers recently featured Rules of the Rich in their weekend magazine, snarls the Countess du Ruel. Reading it I felt that old disgust rising that I am obliged to co-inhabit the same world as these méchants. And what's really depressing is that the code of the TWs is exactly what we mere mortals have observed and not an exaggeration.  The rules that apply are very strict and universally adhered to.

Firstly, in the TW code the emphasis is on looks. You're not allowed to get old or to wear anything above a size 6. All younger women are to be eyed suspiciously, as they might do to you what you did to your husband's first wife. In other words they might steal hubby when you're not looking, thereby giving you a taste of your own medicine.

TWs aren't required to be interested in anything, In fact, interests work against you. Decorative wives are de rigueur with billionaires. So long as you're prepared to put up with his behavior, even if it's reprehensible, you will be richly rewarded with wealth and status. God forbid if you have an opinion on Afghanistan, Iraq, Obama or anything else. An opinion might give the brand a bad name.

TWs put themselves first. It's imperative to have adorable looking children, but your obligations stop there. TWs spend their time staying thin and drinking champagne with style gurus and personal trainers. The ladies who lunch complain bitterly about their lives and how incompetent the nannies are and how boring it is looking after their fat step-children. All problems are handed over to specialists and project managers.

TWs' generosity is displayed exclusively in public, especially at charity fund raisers where they enjoy maximum publicity. These coiffed and preened mesdames plan good deed events on behalf of people they hope they never have to meet. We all know that showing off at charity benefits by giving lavish donations is the best way to climb up the social ladder.

The TW code allows you a Christmas list that probably includes a £9,570 Puffy crocodile handbag or a Premiere 18-carat white-gold watch from Harrods costing £29,575. But wait for this one...Loro Piana can't keep the TW Baby Cashmere blanket in stock, even though these start at £2,050.

It's all so boring and predictable that one wonders the prototypes don't bore themselves into a coma.

The old saying was "Less is More." Now they say "Too much is not enough."
Touché.