Our correspondent sneaks her way into one of the most exclusive social networking sites, aSmallWorld.com, and comes back liking her big, bad worldI never bought the spiel about being six degrees away from anyone on earth. Could I, for example, take my riff-raff avatar and saunter into aSmallWorld.com, the most snobbish social networking site ever, where only 8 per cent members are given the power to invite others? “Yes, of course,” said a friend. “Hadrian, my friend in England, has been asking me to get on it for years. You could get on it if you want.” I do, I said, with a sheepish mental apology to the six degree guys. Two weeks later, I was on it. Once I was in, I had to fill out my profile (And was I the odd one out?). Country of residence: the most common ones are European cities; level of education: Harvard is the most common, MIT and Brown are close behind; profession: investment bankers make up most of the website members, CEOs and MDs come second and are followed by “fashion”, which includes designers, models, heirs and heiresses and socialites. While most women had Vogue covers (not the fake Photoshop ones that are popular on Facebook) as their profile pictures, most of the men were strangely on yachts, with a drink in their hand (one was even surrounded by Playboy bunnies). Since I didn’t have any friends here, I spent my first day on aSmallWorld stalking other members. The website tells you which member is where in the world and also the dates they are in residence (since they are away most of the year). In aSmallWorld, people are only separated by three degrees. I find that I am one degree away from Ivanka Trump, two from James Blunt, Eric Fellner and Quentin Tarantino, and three from Naomi Campbell (which I think is a safe distance, considering her recent fits of fury). The next day I began to explore the applications on the website. No throwing a sheep at or karate chopping a friend here, this site is mostly for those who mean business. There is a very serious buy/sell market place where members advertise yachts, private jets and fancy cars—the limited edition Versace Lamborghini (there are only 10 of these in the world) was available here. The members also share their knowledge about the best clubs, the most exclusive parties, the hippest places to dine and social gatherings in their cities. The website has a forum board where members advertise their businesses and even post queries. “I am going to Monaco next month to stay with my friends but I don’t want my dogs to travel by an airplane as it will be stressful for them. Can someone tell me of a private jet service for pets?” read a post. The woman, who looked like a Paris Hilton clone, had put up a picture in which she was holding a Chihuahua dressed in a pink Doggie Couture sequined top. Pet jet service, indeed, I chuckled. Two days later, there was a post with details of one. Hilton wannabe returned the favour by offering to let the owner of the service stay at her villa in Spain whenever he visited. After three days on the website, I received a message from someone who had an uncanny resemblance to David Schwimmer. He used one of the most common lines that people on this website use. “I’m new to aSmallWorld, you look like you’re new to this too. Let’s connect”. And connect we did. We spoke for hours about our favourite Radiohead songs, and our favourite characters in Six Feet Under. I was even invited to one of his posh parties. “My friends and I are going to the Maldives for the weekend. We’ll be staying at my beach house, which is on a small, quaint island. There will be a gourmet cook and a boat. Why don’t you come?” he wrote in a message. Sadly, for geographical reasons, I couldn’t. After a week of stalking people, reading forum posts that weren’t for me and talking incessantly about Radiohead (which, honestly, got a bit boring after two days) with my new friend, I realised that aSmallWorld wasn’t for me. I’d rather be exiled back to the big world.
