The Envy Issue

Of all the Seven Deadly Sins, Boston's always had the weirdest relationship with envy. For centuries, good fortune in this city was a private and occasionally gloomy thing, to be brooded over inside Commonwealth Avenue mansions or Louisburg Square townhouses, behind heavy curtains kept drawn for the sake of decency. Correspondingly, envy was a thing perhaps felt by many, but voiced by few. There was an unspoken pact: I won't shove it in your face, and you won't hate me for it. If there was public envy, it was couched in moral terms and expressed from above, not below. We don't hate you for your success; we hate you for thinking your success means anything. We feign concern for you when, by our accounting, you've gotten too big for your britches. We tut-tut. We recite ancient aphorisms. Sic transit gloria, and so forth.

Not anymore. At some point, as Boston went cosmopolitan, wealth become giddy. For those who possess it, good fortune, even as the financial markets go haywire, is no longer something to hide. Flashy cars, once only the province of unctuous Eurotrash BU students, are now everywhere. Countless glass-fronted (!) ultraluxury condo complexes are being erected all over town. Designer pets and the pampering thereof is all the rage. Battalions of staggeringly expensive baby carriages roll through the South End, past parking spaces that go for six figures.

Predictably, this explosion of public gluttony (some may say "prosperity") has triggered a vigorous round of public envy, fueled by the intense insecurity Bostonians have always attempted to conceal, or at least sublimate by going to a Bruins game and screaming, "Yankees suck!" for 45 minutes. With so much of the stuff going around, it's gotten hard to separate the envier from the envied. They feed off each other. You accumulate status symbols as a response to the discomfort of being made to envy someone else's. You look to lessen your envy pangs by inspiring them in someone else. The cycle rolls on.

As long as that's the governing dynamic, we say: If you're going to play the status game, or even just watch it, it helps to understand the new rules that govern it, and at whom to direct your most potent jealous longings. Over the course of these special pages, we spell out both. If nothing else, the next time you find yourself asking, "Why not me?" you'll know the answer—and how you might do something about it. —Joe Keohane

It Ain't Easy Being Queen
She's a biz whiz, style icon, and now a TV star in the making—but is there really enough Gretchen Monahan to go around?
By Sascha de Gersdorff

Jealous Much?
Our list of the 25 most envied Bostonians (a.k.a. the instant antidote for complacent self-worth).

Sweating with the Sharks
A behind-the-steam look at the hottest—and unlikeliest—private social club in town: the Sports Club/LA.
By Kevin Alexander

The Knives Come Out
Even as food critics are tripping over themselves to praise him, O Ya's Tim Cushman is feeling serious heat form rival local chefs.
By Erin Byers Murray

Home Design: A Wing of One's Own
Having a serious hobby makes for a well-balanced life. Having an ultra-customized room to pursue it in makes for a highly covetable one, too.

The 10 New Status Symbols
The latest trends in self-aggrandizement

Beyond Cozy Charm
Six homes with amenities that are truly one-of-a-kind. 

The Grownup Playroom
A slide show featuring tricked-out spaces for hard-core hobbyists of every age.