As many of my closest friends know from experience, being a public figure in New York City has its advantages and disadvantages. In fame, as in life, you have to take the créme bruleé with the reduced fat non dairy cream cheese, so to speak.

Far be it from me to complain but I feel I must also make a stand to protect my privacy, my stature and indeed my hard-earned reputation as a lady of style, grace, humor and modesty.

I am referring, of course, to the sustained, unjustified and frankly disturbing nature of the sullying of my name carried out by the person I refer to, for legal reasons, only as My Nemesis.

While answering a run of the mill question on modern dining etiquette by a delightful visitor to our store, I was discussing the relative suitability of various summer drink options available to the fashionable girl about town. Having recommended some fine wines (I have been VERY keen on Grüner Veltliner lately) available from our friends at Sip, I went on to describe those drinks which were to be avoided at all costs; appletinis, anything endorsed by a rapper, beverages with bright colors not found in nature, and any beer that is not Eponymy’s eponymous beer: (Bianca) Miller High Life of course — “The Champagne of Beers.”

Now there is a time to drink, and a time for business.  Sometimes they intermingle, often they don’t.  In order to fully demonstrate the ungainly figure cut by a lady with a beverage at an unsuitable time of day, I kindly offered to pose beside a glass of beer during business hours. Naturally, this was solely for the purposes of instructing an eager student.

In a heinous act of malice and misrepresentation, this very moment was captured by My Nemesis and subsequently distributed to various gossip columnists around the city as a shameful attempt to paint me as a fallen woman.

Bianca Miller High Life

Of course, not such a long time later, while socializing with business associates at one of my local spots, The Flatbush Farm, the press showed up to document my whereabouts and captured me in several compromising angles making it appear as if I am overly enthusiastic and concerned about social lubrication.

I was merely chuckling at a preposterous comment my dear friend made regarding the paradox of the human condition!

Here I was simply grinning regarding a series of simply hil-ar-ious military-industrial complex knock-knock jokes told by my favorite bartender.

So you can see, as a socialite and philanthropist I simply must make public appearances and rub elbows with the elite.  But you can also ascertain how an innocent appearance can be turned into a false portrait of debauchery.  I’m just beside myself!

Just a year ago, you can take note of another photo captured by My Nemesis during a party beneifiting the arts.

See here, my gentleman friend slipped and I ended up falling into the beer. It was an absolutely frightening experience!

THEN — and this is an extreme example of privacy violation, I was holidaying at my darling country home in Guilford, Connecticut, relaxing by the pool with an afternoon beer, when I was bombarded by those awful paparazzi!  Now Guilford is a beautiful, relatively unscathed town that has not yet fallen victim to the precious, overly manicured towns of the more populated areas of Fairfield County.  How on Earth did they locate me there!

If one can't enjoy an afternoon beer at one's country home in peace for crying out loud, what on Earth is the world coming to!

And so it falls to me to firmly deny any wrongdoing and leave it to my trust in you, my dear friends, to judge who is wrong and who is sorely in need of litigation.

Yours indignantly,

Bianca Miller