Fanciness.

Some people think that the "fancy" South has died. Well, pardon me, darlings...but I beg to differ. And differ strongly.

I grew up in a fairly new suburb of Atlanta by the name of Peachtree City. It was developed in 1957 when Flat Creek was dammed to create Lake Peachtree (by which our lovely little town got its name, of course). We didn't get our own zip code until 1972, and it took two more years for our first library to open. But by 1975, this humble Georgian town had already been named one of America's Best Suburbs in the Ladies Home Journal. McIntosh High School, my alma mater, opened its doors in 1981.

And you know that somewhat popular film Sweet Home Alabama? It starred that SCRUMPTIOUS man Josh Lucas. And that goodie-two-shoes Reese Witherspoon. Thank goodness she came to her senses at the end. Any man who kisses you when lightning strikes...is the man you need to marry (and stay married to). But I ramble. It was, of course, filmed in Peachtree City.

And who did Money magazine rank as the #8 Best Place to Live in all of America? Peachtree City.

I'm quite proud of my roots, dearest diary. Now, Peachtree City has its own little villages...five of them to be exact. There's Aberdeen, where Hank was from. Braelinn, which is where I learned how to play golf. All Southern gals know how to play golf. Glenloch, which has the most beautiful recreation center. And quite a few swimming holes tucked into its little pockets. And of course, there's Kedron, where my Daddy built his gorgeous plantation. The most recent building is taking place in West Side, which is where all of the well-to-do famous people reside. I've been to several parties over there, of course.

I digress from my original topic...this notion that the "fancy" South has diminished. Well I, along with nearly every beauty in my high school, was brought up right and proper in the debutante way of life. I know how to wear a girdle, and how to suck my breath in just enough so that I only see stars for a small portion of the evening. I know how to wear a bustle, and how to ballroom dance in the dress that goes over said bustle. I know which silverware to use at what time. I know how to get that last bit of soup out of my bowl without making a fool of myself and slurping it everywhere. I had so many etiquette lessons that I could almost teach etiquette myself.

And yes. I can walk across a room with a book balancing on the top of my head.

So if anyone tries to tell you that us "fancy" Southerners don't exist, please direct them to me. I'd be glad to...persuade them into changing their mind.