The wife of a top financial exec who feels obligated to be have in public like one of the common people is deeply unhappy living life under a tarp.
The woman — identified in numerous blogs and Internet sites as Liz Peek — has written an anonymous essay in Portfolio magazine, complaining that she has had to hide her wealth to avoid public shaming.
Hubby Jeffrey Peek’s company, CIT Group, accepted a $2.33 billion bailout under the federal government’s Troubled Assets Relief Pro gram, or TARP, last fall.
The poor little rich girl, a financial columnist for FoxNews.com, wrote, “I’ve taken a vow of financial absti nence.”
“If I buy a present for someone, I have the package sent to their home. I don’t want to be spotted climbing into a taxi laden with Bergdorf Goodman shopping bags.”
Not only that, she and Jeffrey have “picked up new habits, like making donations anonymously and sneaking in late to black-tie galas after society photographer Patrick McMullan has packed up his camera and gone home.” The couple was forced to forgo the an nual birthday dinner for her CEO hus band at “multi-star Michelin hotspots” in favor of cozier night life that flies under the radar of the pokey press. “We did not need a snarky story about a ‘Wall Street bigwig living it up while taxpayers wonder where their money went,’ ” she said.
“Needless to say, we fly commercial. Using the company plane is now out of bounds; we’ve heard there are reporters staking out the private airports.”
Being a “TARP wife,” she said, “means . . . making decisions according to a complex algorithm: balancing the need to look like your world hasn’t crumbled — let’s not alarm the investors! — with the need to appear duly repentant for your subprime sins.”
The author bemoans the unflattering attention given to every expenditure made by her husband and his counterparts.
“Even Octomom gets better press,” she said.
“I’ve bought exactly two things this year — makeup and pantyhose,” she said.
“I haven’t even looked at spring clothes. God forbid someone catches me in something new.
“Like so many others, I’m shopping in my closet.”
But her new frugality is not all for show.
She said that most of her family’s money is in stock that has plummeted 95 percent.
The writer, however, doesn’t expect people to suddenly start feeling sorry for her.
“I may not win sympathy. I’m not pleading poverty,” she said. “But we are getting squeezed.”
When reached at home, Peek, 60, said she was surprised to hear someone had fingered her as the scribe.
“This is the first I am hearing of this. I cannot comment either way,” she said.
The magazine also declined to confirm or deny Peek wrote the article. “This is an anonymous essay, and we plan to keep it that way,” said a spokeswoman.
The author does see hope that she and her family might someday resume their former lifestyle.
“The good news is that Americans have short attention spans,” she wrote. “Before long, some other group will come along to absorb all the frustration and anger.
“Meanwhile, I’m off to the tailors to get clothes altered.”