A couple of weeks after the divorce, Meg went into Boston with her friend Beth. After the divorce, Beth's father had given her a bunch of charge cards, and she loved to go into the uptight, exclusive stores on Newbury Street, look disreputable enough to irritate salespeople, then whip them out and buy a bunch of stuff she didn't need - or even really want. Meg would often comment that this was extremely nouveau behavior, and Beth would sigh deeply, and say, in a very glum voice, not everyone can be old money. Apparently not, Meg would say, and they would laugh loudly enough for the salespeople to suggest that they think about going elsewhere. Immediately.
Page 29 of my copy