As a young girl singing along to "When I'm Sixty-Four" it never occurred to me that Paul McCartney would ever be anything other than young and handsome. And as I realized a few years ago that along with the rest of us, our number one baby boomer icon was indeed aging, it never occurred to me that he would become wrapped up with a gold digger for whom he would never be "handy mending the fuse" when he was sixty-four.

This reminds me of all the losers I knew, thankfully before I was well into my twenties. The men to whom I was attracted seem to fall into two categories: gamblers and thieves. Because I had (and still have) a strong attraction to intelligent men who are skilled at probability theory and logic (translation: high rollers masquerading as intellectuals masquerading as high rollers), I have known my share of brilliant men who claimed to have "systems" when they played the Vegas casinos. My boyfriends really did know how to beat the dealer. Unfortunately, they were uniformly scrawny young Stanford University intellectuals, barely twenty-one, and were tossed out quickly. So much for their systems.

I recently ran into my beloved thief ex-boyfriend (I'll call Benny) at the wake of an old friend. We met on the playground when we were five, needless to say many years ago. He had kicked me in the stomach when I told him he was handsome, but later made up for it by giving me some amazing jewelry. For a fourteen year old, he had superb taste in diamonds, and it was dismaying to learn he had stolen these pieces from a local jewelry store. Benny now lives in Las Vegas (no surprise here) and is almost surely doing something illegal. But he has lost little of his je ne sais quoi. He's probably still a thief, a sexy bad boy I had the good sense not to marry.

I'd like to suggest to any of my readers who have similar taste in men not to be taken in by Monaco. Prince Albert is working mightily to clean up its sketchy image, but Monaco remains a "sunny place for shady characters" i.e., some of my ex-boyfriends. On a somewhat different note, I'd like to remind my readers not to let French accents and the Riviera backdrop lull them into believing that "To Catch a Thief" is the chic way to live. Curiously, after making this delicious Hitchcock movie, Grace Kelly married Prince Rainier. I see many, many links here. I don't think this means I'm a genius, just watchful.

Dear Sir Paul, "Maybe I'm Amazed" but after all we are all only human. I wish Paul a happy birthday and better luck next time round.

suppes@fashionlines.com

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