Do you want to know what shoes to wear with navy blue? You are not alone. Since starting this blog I have realized it’s far more common than we all knew. How about what to wear to your kids’ graduation when there’s a trophy wife around every corner? Perhaps less common, but no less compelling. Do you like to hunt for perfect classic clothing items, discuss the “and” model of identity, browse artifacts of vanished wealth and class? Yes, since you ask, I do mean to put that all in one sentence.

(All I ask in return is that you occasionally let me dote on my grown children who live across the country.)

A privileged early existence taught me the common definition of good taste. Whether the definition is right or not is another question of course. But for better or worse I can read the hidden rules of how to appear “appropriate.” Interpret the millions of social anxieties we all encounter. And I won’t keep this secret.

High WASPs may be leaving the earth but I’m giving away the High WASP code of conduct, along with photographs of family heirlooms and maybe even some vintage Marc Jacobs bags. A virtual High WASP yard sale, if you will.

Life is long. And sweet. And complicated. Some problems can be solved with thought. Some with affection. Some by upper body strength, some by sobbing, some only by a good night’s sleep. Almost always someone else’s point of view is helpful. The world is a place for rapture. So is Privilege. Rapture and Tiffany silver and stories of India and the difficult question of how to wear plaid.

My name is Lisa. I grew up in California, a member of the disappearing social class we might call the High WASPs. You know that Edith Wharton book Scorcese made into a movie, “Age of Innocence?” Yeah. Like that. Except the family fortune has gone the way of most family fortunes, i.e. not into my pocket. My job, vice-president at a software services company, disappeared in early 2009, along with the jobs of many other people. And I decided to take a moment to stop, and consider.

Here’s the thing. My ancestors signed the Declaration of Independence and wrote the preamble to the Constitution of the United States. No kidding. My great-great grandfather was at J.P. Morgan’s daughter’s wedding in New York in the 1800′s. Also Boss Tweed’s. I graduated from Princeton, and with any luck so will my two children. I’ve been a lot of places, some by private jet. All of this is true. I am not yet sure if it matters.

I find the privilege of being alive to be more astonishing than any of the trappings of class and money.

I am 54. I live a very regular life at this point. A ranch house, a Toyota, laundry that stays folded on the dining room table for far too long. Children who talk to me with affectionate tolerance for a well-meaning mother. The usual. But over the years privilege took me places and showed me so many things. I want to give others the benefit of my experience. I now understand more of what I saw and did. I find some things funny. Yet more things are beautiful.