Business Finance Media Technology Policy Wealth Insights Interviews

Art Art Fairs Art Market Art Reviews Auctions Galleries Museums Interviews

Lifestyle Nightlife & Dining Style Travel Interviews

Power Lists Nightlife & Dining Art A.I. PR

About About Observer Advertise With Us Reprints

More Scenes From a Media Marriage: She Wants Fame, He Wants a Mistress

Status, it turns out, isn't always inherited by blood—sometimes it just goes to whoever gets there first.

(Editor’s note: This column was originally published on July 1, 1996.) On Winnie Dieke’s 38th birthday, her husband James Dieke wakes up scared. Winnie Dieke wakes up depressed. Not that she has anything to be depressed about—she’s hit all her life landmarks (which could have been land mines) in style: first job at 22, met future husband at 25, first assignment for a prestigious magazine at 27, married at 28 (well under the 30-year deadline she’d set for herself), established herself as a “serious journalist” by 30, co-op at 31, pregnant at 32, her own column in a national news magazine at 34. For the past few weeks, Winnie has been spending a lot of time reminding herself of everything she’s achieved. Something is wrong.

Sign Up For Our Daily Newsletter

Thank you for signing up!

By clicking submit, you agree to our terms of service and acknowledge we may use your information to send you emails, product samples, and promotions on this website and other properties. You can opt out anytime.

Winnie doesn’t want to admit it (she never wants to admit that there could be anything wrong with her life), but that something might be James. Lately, she’s been worried about James. Irritated, actually. James hasn’t been holding up his end of the bargain. He should have written a major, important book by now (preferably about politics, so easy considering the political climate), which would have elevated her status as his wife (she didn’t take his last name for no reason). If James had written the book by now, they would have access to more important, influential people. They would be important, influential people.

But instead, James keeps writing the same kind of pieces. And agonizing over them. Half the time now, James calls her up during the day and says, “I can’t write. I’m blocked.”

“Oh please, James,” she’ll say. “I’ve got a kazillion things going on. I’ve got a C.E.O. on the other line. If you’re blocked, go pick up dinner. And make sure it’s fat-free.” Then she hangs up. She wishes he would just get on with it.

When Winnie tries, when she gently suggests that maybe he should really get to work on a book proposal, he sulks. He actually turns on the TV and watches some idiotic, mindless........

© Observer