Desperate Davos Wives
Preparing for Davos
This is the time of year when Davos Man — that renowned signifier of the world of international power and commerce — is preparing his presentations, having his secretary book his limo from Zurich airport to the hotel Belvedere and leafing through the stack of dinner and cocktail receptions that pile up in advance of this annual event.
My husband is a Davos Man, which makes me a Davos Wife.
I’ve lost count of how many times I have stood by my man on the buffet line and in the luggage scrum at the Zurich airport. Along with countless other wives I’ve put in my time and always felt that we are under represented. The World Economic Forum ignores us completely and only has a few activities lined up for us: cross country skiing, ice driving an Audi and the ubiquitous open sleigh ride.
Determined not to sink so low as to do a pathetic wifely activity, I sneered at the latter for years. But when I was finally dragged on to one I discovered it’s incredibly fun. I did notice, however, that after ranting about the Republicans and the Iraq War on the way to the cheese fondue lunch, no one wanted to sit with me on the way back. Oh well. It meant I had the yummy fur-lined blanket all to myself.
For this Davos Wife, January is the time of year I make my preparations. Foremost among them is solving the question of what does a New Yorker, who wouldn’t dream of skiing, wear to an icy Alpine resort whose original claim to fame was housing the tuberculosis sanitorium in Thomas Mann’s “Magic Mountain”?
So I have developed a short packing list which covers all the essentials:
• Moisturizer and an SPF 45 sun screen to protect against the harsh Swiss sun for those few moments when I am out of the airless Congress Centre squinting in the day light.
• Burt’s Bees chapstick—for the same reason.
• Nice shower gel because the soap in the hotel room bathroom is bound to be small and scratchy.
• Sturdy but comfy snow boots which have zippers (not clasps or laces) so they can easily be taken on and off. I have a pair of Bally ones that I splurged on in the sales of 2005. And thank God I did because that was the year that the Indians took over Davos and the town was filled with sari-clad women slipping in their gilded flip flops. The sales at Bally are a high point and I always make sure I have room in my suitcase. One year I looked in on envy as a gent of Middle East persuasion bought three pairs for the wife back home.
• A small bag to carry my shoes in as I slide over to the Congress Centre each day. (No need for a bag to carry around inside as the sturdy local frauleins check everyone’s coats and slushy boots upon arrival.)
• A thick coat to pad the inevitable falls on the ice. I always wear my bargain basement Turkish shearling to Davos after I learned the hard way one year that floor-length down doesn’t provide the same level of padding.
• A flashlight for finding my way up snowy hills when searching for my hotel in the dark of night. The main streets are lit but we don’t qualify for a hotel on the main drag. Those are saved for the really important people.
• A cell phone that works internationally so I can text message friends to rendezvous at the comfy couches in the Congress Centre and let the folks back home know which VIP is picking his nose during the Saturday night concert.
• One nice outfit to wear to the soiree on Saturday night, even though nowadays most people ignore the instructions to wear black tie.
• A couple of presentable outfits to wear during the day. I haven’t decided yet which I will wear. Most women go for a standard dress for success business suit type thing. I just wear black and to hell with it.
• Flannel pyjamas because it gets very cold at night
• Sleeping pills to help cope with jet lag. (Nothing worse than staggering off to the inevitable breakfast with Pakistani PM at 2am EST)
• Bottles of water as it’s very dry there.
• A few books and magazines to read while waiting for my husband. Vanity Fair is too thick so I will try and pick up a copy of Monocle at the airport.
• A thick skin. I developed this over the years. It’s a vital protection from the barrage of snubs that are bound to come my way.
I’ve been going to the World Economic Forum almost every year since 2000 and like many people I love it and I hate it. I love it because I see old friends and find out what is going on in countries as diverse as Malaysia, South Africa and Brazil. I like hearing hear what Davos Man has to say about the state of the world economy. I am always curious to find out what will be the buzz at Davos and flavor of the month for the Great, the Good and the Downright Nasty.
I don’t love the exhaustion, the endless waits for important speakers, the stodgy food, the tiny hotel rooms and the obsession with status that marks nearly every conversation. I agonize every year about whether we should go, whether Davos is really passé and whether it’s time to move on. But like most people I know, I always give in. After all, Davos is irresistible.
Photo: A general view shows the Swiss mountain resort of Davos January 24, 2011. REUTERS/Vincent Kessler