Social Diary: The Great Divide
“Growing up in Elkins Park, not only was there this huge geographical block of river to get to the Main Line,” remembers public relations exec Peter Breslow, “but the roads over there all seemed like privileged neighborhoods with private entrances. I saw those scenes in Caddyshack and John Hughes movies come to life there, and signs that said PRIVATE, MEMBERS ONLY when I’d go visit friends from camp who lived in Penn Valley.”
Breslow discerned a perceptible attitude shift, a “swagger,” when he crossed the river: “There was a sense of ‘They’re better than us,’” he says of the Main Line teenagers he met. “We were taking the bus or borrowing our parents’ car to bus tables at Murray’s in Jenkintown, and they’re driving a Mercedes to Hymie’s or Murray’s.”
And he still feels it. “You see four or six kids at Plate in Ardmore with their parents’ credit cards, they’re loud and they’re making a mess — on this side, you don’t see that. The kids are respectful, and they don’t treat waiters like servants.”
Interestingly, one Main Line resident has a different take on fitting in on the Chestnut Hill side of the river: She feels that Chestnut Hill, with its charming old cobblestone streets and untouched-by-time antiques stores and quirky shops on Germantown Avenue, is even more old-money and closed to outsiders than the Main Line, frozen in time since its inclusion in 1980’s Preppy Handbook. “It’s very cliquey there. They don’t want any newbies,” she sighs. “I think we’re more superficial on the Main Line, but it’s more fun over here. There’s more to do, more restaurants, more parties. Maybe we just want our names on more invitations.” In a parting blow, she unapologetically says she likes her Burberry bags and Tory Burch ballet flats, and deems the women of Blue Bell “mumsie-ish.”
Historically speaking, it’s true that Chestnut Hill was a summer refuge from Center City during the American Revolution, long before the railroad paved the way for the Main Line. The Main Line might have gotten all that old-money buzz from Hope Scott in her pearls and The Philadelphia Story, but as far as Chestnut Hill was concerned, this just proved that the Main Line was a bit showy. In fact, Digby Baltzell, the Penn sociologist who popularized the phrase “Wasp,” was a Chestnut Hill native, and the charming, argyle-sock-clad patriarch of Philly Wasps, Thacher Longstreth, moved from Haverford to Chestnut Hill and became its icon when he married a beautiful C.H. debutante.
If one hired a team of therapists to diagnose the problem, this “Who’s older, and who has older money?” argument, rooted in insecurity and the need for individuation, might seem the crux of the issue. But in truth, each side has an abundance of historic homes, clubs, schools. From the outside, and sometimes from the inside, the two areas look almost exactly the same, as do their well-heeled residents.
