Categorized | Our Town

Devouring A Red Velvet Mini Cupcake After A Winter Of Fig Newtons

Posted on 19 April 2013

By Christine Bellini

It was the perfect story to light up the airwaves, send ripples across the blogosphere and perfectly wrapped puckish headlines across celebrity-starved pre-season editions of our favorite throwaways – Lindsay Lohan would be taking her 90 day imposed rehabilitation plea barter at The Seafield Center in The Hamptons, a leading alcohol and substance abuse center in located Westhampton Beach. It was a delicious red velvet mini-cupcake ready to be devoured after a long winter of Fig Newtons.

Complete with acupuncture therapy, the $4000-plus per week rehab facility would impose its no tobacco, no cell phone use and dress code policy. And although she wouldn’t be put on ‘lock down,’ if the squirrely Lohan tried to slip out for a pre-season romp or two, the authorities would be notified and her probation would be in jeopardy. Yummy fodder for the celebrity-trotter out searching for a daily dose of “will she – won’t she” headlines.

At first the story seemed too good to be true as conflicting reports vied for top billing on the skivvy. It was a rumor. No wait – Business Insider confirmed earlier TMZ reports – Lohan would be staying at the same rehab facility her father checked into in 1989, just down the road from the mob-crushed Westhampton Beach summer club scene. Temptation be thy weakness — this may be more than any red-blooded over-exposed, child actress/fashion model turned recording artist barred from using an iPad, can bear.

Layer in the also tasty tidbit that Southampton Village Mayor Mark Eply also happens to be Seafield’s executive director and a reported friend of Lohan’s father, and you’ve got juicy headline toppers from now until her 90-day rehab wraps up by early August.

Celebrity news like this is hard to resist as The New York Post, The Daily News, Newsday, Danshamptons.com, 27east.com and Westhampton Patch all nibble the tidbit and parse their anticipation of more to come.  Another delectable morsel was dished up by The New York Post reporting that members of the Southampton Bathing Club are “upset” over a list of proposed new members which includes Vogue contributing editor Lauren Santo Domingo and her husband Andres, who are considered scant ‘newcomers,’ having purchased a $30 million manse in Southampton and not life-long “fixtures” of the publicity-abhorred upper crust.

I particularly prefer the recent New York Times article which restores my faith in the perennial bottom-line ‘all-things-being-equal, The Hamptons are not’ narrative, promising “Well Before Summer, Hamptons Luxury Real Estate Is Scorching” for those who have a cool mil to drop on a summer rental.

No wonder television shows that depict life in The Hamptons are riddled with the idly rich fumbling over ordinary errands (Royal Pains) or have-nots plotting to seek revenge among the über-elite (Revenge).

The silly season is afoot and it’s been a long, long, lonely winter.

 

A former news editor, essay writer Christine Bellini is an editorial consultant who spends a good deal of her time pondering the cultural curiosities of The Hamptons from her Sag Harbor tree house.

 

 

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