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’ll start by saying I don’t typically frown upon people just because they’re wealthy and well-connected.

Yet sometimes some people just keep behaving in certain ways that I can’t help but wonder if their circumstances shape their attitudes, rules of logical fallacy be damned.

Earlier this week I had to attend what was supposed to be a lovely afternoon at the Indonesia National Museum. We all know how dowdy Indonesian museums tend to be, but since a photography book launch and the unveiling of a fashion couture exhibition was on the agenda, I had my hopes.

I honored the heritage fabric dress code by donning a vintage hand-drawn batik scoured at the Triwindu flea market some years ago and charged up my phone for snapping pics of the gorgeous designs.

What happened later, in a room full of government officials, culture voyeurs, fashion enthusiasts and socialites, was far from the gorgeousness of the couture featured inside. And instead of pictures, I almost snapped at people.

A gaggle of society ladies, in their best garb and makeup, just couldn’t remain quiet. It is one thing to chirp around before the event commences, it’s another to buzz like hungry bees after it starts. They kept on chatting, laughing, even taking selfies after the MC and honorary guests started making opening remarks just a few meters away. It didn’t help that the high-ceilinged hall amplified all the voices inside.

Others in the audience, myself included, tried shushing them. Repeatedly. The buzz died down for 2-3 seconds before picking up again, throughout speeches by the fashion designer who was holding the soirée and the chairwoman of one of Indonesia’s most powerful charities.

The chattering got so loud that the next speaker, a chairwoman of one of Indonesia’s largest media groups, had to ask them to respect the designer and themselves — positioning herself like those gabbling women were supposed to be, a supportive friend of the designer. The noise disappeared for perhaps a full 23 seconds before returning in a vengeance.

At that point I was ready to walk up and shush them personally, but then the honorary guest, the spouse of Indonesia’s Vice President no less, was up to give her remarks. I thought that would shut up the socialites. Boy was I wrong. They kept on spewing all kinds of noises so that halfway through, Mrs. VP paused and said, “I should probably just stop here since nobody’s listening to me anyway, right.”

She then, almost unceremoniously, hit the officiating gong. Most of us were too stunned to mouth anything other than variations of “Oh, my God”. The offending women? Most of them didn’t even register what was unfolding. A couple of them muttered the VP’s spouse was ngambek, a word mostly associated with childlike tantrums.

Listen, the only ones behaving like bratty children throwing tantrums were you, rude socialites. You women lacked the basic manners to stop chatting when speakers were giving their remarks, and had no decency to alter your attitude after repeated direct requests. You gave no respect whatsoever to others in the audience who were trying to listen to the speakers. You didn’t reserve due respect for the spouse of the Vice President. Heck, you didn’t even give a damn when the designer went up to speak — although you were probably decked head-to-toe in his designs.

What did you learn growing up? Were you raised by wolves, before suddenly stumbling into money and designer duds? Do you think just because you’ve invariably helped support Indonesian fashion and charities, and perhaps your hubby has donated to political causes, that you are allowed to misbehave wherever and whenever you land your fancy feet? Nobody is that privileged, madams!

In fact, the real privileged people, like a prominent businesswoman or a certain old-moneyed mother-and-daughter sitting politely throughout the debacle, know how to carry themselves properly at any event. They know when to be merry, cordial, or how to remain mum when speeches get wordy.

The real society swans know how to gracefully step aside when it’s someone else’s moment to take the limelight. The real class act doesn’t only faithfully follow the dress code, they dutifully adhere to the code of conduct.

All socialites are snooty and self-centered, a pal commented after reading my impromptu tweets that afternoon. Full disclaimer, I’ve met babes from Beverly Hills and Park Avenue princesses. But guess what, as self-centered as those pampered American trust-fund babies can get, they still know how to mind their surroundings, demonstrate a sense of decorum and stop yapping when needed.

Perhaps those Swiss finishing schools do help, after all. Maybe American civilization is truly several steps ahead of us. Or, American socialites are simply too afraid to engage in uncouth behavior at fashion events because the designers are huge enough not to be afraid of banning them at the next event.

So there’s your choice, callous Jakarta socialites. You’ve been a nuisance before, but what you pulled at the museum this week really crossed the line. Use your abundant money to get educated on proper etiquette. Because next time we will shush you into your face — your pricey handbag, diamond or husband’s connections be damned.

— Lynda Ibrahim is a Jakarta-based writer with a penchant for purple, pussycats and pop culture.