The fug girls said it best.
Source: Go Fug Yourself
Now, we don't really know Olivia Palermo from Phoebe Price (except in the sense that we know a lot less of Olivia's sacred ladymysteries, if you get my meaning). Maybe she's annoying. Maybe she doesn't shave her armpits. Maybe she stole your boyfriend. Maybe she's a rare gem who's been clawed and scratched at by the queen bees of the giant high-school cafeteria that is the New York social scene. We don't care, really. Because at the end of the day, she had the stones to show up at an event -- the Dressed to Kilt fashion show -- that was chock full of the e-mail's recipients and the people who no doubt gobbled up every written word about her supposed ignominy, and she didn't flinch.
If that had happened to me, I would have flinched. In fact, I would be locking myself in the bathroom and considering entering a convent, or at least not leaving the house for another five years. Because even when you deny something, and even if you're accurately denying it, people still view that as a cursory and obvious response and assume you probably did it anyway, and then there's Eyes of Judgment and lots of whispering. It's just the way this stuff works. And yet Ms. Palermo did not pull a Claudia Blaisdel from Dynasty and run back to her room and light Candles of Hate that eventually burned down the entire place. No, instead, Olivia showed up. She beamed and looked pretty, even if the dress seems a little off-the-rack and unflattering to her boobs. Points for effort. Plus she posed for photos and walked the runway with as much flair and poise as she could muster.
So what if the whole thing was a carefully choreographed PR gambit to earn her the kind of pity that turns into affection and a Phoenix-style rise from the social ashes. So what if it was just a misguided girl trying to get in with the In Crowd. Who cares if someone was out to get her and faked the whole thing. However you slice it, she's going to win, because she isn't burying her head in the sand, and stone-cold bitches like us are going to soften and say, "Well, you've gotta respect her moxie." Because we're easy, and the only thing we love more than a scandal is an underdog. Well, unless that underdog is going up against Joan Collins, in which case, we're betting on Joan every time. But until Joan decides to intervene here, we're content to give Olivia a pat on the back for not going on a boozy downward shame spiral.