Monogrammed with money which no one here would be crude enough to mention, it's still persistently in evidence along with those pheasants and limos and Halstons which grace the lives of a few people who not only do not love ""upward"" but are unable to feel anything. Like Julia, bored to death with her rich, older, horse-breeding husband, who wanly dreamsaboutthe ""possibility of precariousness in her life."" A lover like playboy Humphrey who also keeps Nancy on the side--Nancy writes beauty copy for Glory magazine. While Julia's friend Minnie, a dancer, has a South American amigo as well as a homosexual husband until she's deprived of both by a malignant melanoma. Even sex seems to be a waste of time--""such an expenditure of energy for so small an effect""--hardly ""delicious"" or ""divine"" or ""naughty,"" ubiquitous words which only promote the jet-propelled apathy.