Buddy explains the primordial pouch, a feature that allows cats to do some really awesome stuff in battle.
Dear Buddy,
Why do some cats (like you) have flabby tummies? Why do those flabby stomachs jiggle when some cats (like you) run around? Like Anna Delvey famously asked Vivian: “Are you pregnant or are you so very, very fat?”
Horrified in Honolulu
Dear Horrified,
FAKE NEWS.
What you’re seeing is my primordial pouch, also known as the Warrior’s Pouch, the Paunch of Feline Heroes and the Champion’s Abdomen. When it’s prominent, as in my case, it indicates the cat in question comes from a line of feline warriors, and that the blood of fierce combatants courses through his veins.
A painting depicting the Battle of Felinar Caverns, when Buddy slew the dragon Ysunvaer in single combat. Original image credit: Johan Grenier
If your primordial pouch is not prominent, it means you’re descended from wimps who probably hid under the stairs when faced with threats, like the angry machine god Vakuum and the Elevator, the Mysterious Room That Eats People.
You see, according to scientists, the primordial pouch offers protection to our vital organs during battle, so an errant slash won’t open our guts.
The pouch serves another critical function, allowing us to fully stretch our bodies, thus making possible the incredibly acrobatic and awesome moves that distinguish us as the graceful combatants we are. The primordial pouch makes it possible for us to jump really high, cover incredible distance in a single bound, and tear up the dance floor.
As you can clearly see from the photos, I’m all rippling muscle aside from the primordial pouch, so I’m totally not chonky.
Your Champion,
Buddy
All cats, including tigers, have primordial pouches. Credit: Wikimedia Commons
The German-Russian fake heiress frequented many of the same parties and ran in the same circles as Buddy the Cat.
NEW YORK — Anna Delvey said she was at a low point when she crossed paths with Buddy the Cat at a party one night.
“So many of my friends were so disappointing,” Delvey says. “When people show up to a party looking poor or fat, and they’re not wearing designer clothes, it’s a huge buzzkill.”
But Buddy, who was a guest of Princess Charlotte Marie Pomeline Casiraghi of Monaco, was clearly someone who understood style and luxury and moved in the exclusive circles Delvey frequented.
“I was like ‘Oh my God, you know [Monegasque designer] Pauline Ducruet?” Delvey recalls. “Buddy had just arrived with Felix [Finch, editor of the Trafalgar Review of Books]. He knew all the right people, was at the best parties and always knew when to leave before unattractive people showed up.”
On the night she met Buddy, Delvey says she was already shaken by a woman who showed up to a film festival afterparty wearing clothes from Target when her group faced another setback: The maître d’ at Dorsia had double booked their reservation, so they were forced to head to Espacé on the upper west side.
“I was on the verge of tears when we arrived at Espacé, since I was positive we wouldn’t get a decent table,” Delvey recalls. “But we did, and relief washed over me in an awesome wave.”
It turned out Buddy knew the maître d’ at Espacé and was able to secure a table by slipping him two crisp $100 bills.
“Friends like that,” Delvey says, “are worth keeping around.”
Delvey, center, with Buddy at New York Fashion Week in 2018. Credit: Netflix
Delvey’s roster of friends was whittled down to just a handful when she was arrested in 2018 and charged with defrauding various luxury hotels, spas, boutique shops and bankers out of more than $300,000. She was also on the verge of securing a $22 million loan from Cavendish Holdings, ostensibly to open a VIP arts club, when authorities caught up with her and charged her with multiple counts of wire fraud, grand larceny and tampering with financial records.
Delvey’s story was immortalized in a 2019 New Yorker piece which went viral and, with the premiere of Netflix’s Inventing Anna miniseries just 10 days ago, millions of people are now privy to almost every sordid detail of Delvey’s long con, in which she presented herself as a fabulously wealthy German heiress sitting on a $60 million trust fund.
The now-convicted former socialite, whose real name is Anna Sorokina, moved in the highest echelons of New York society for more than two years. She quickly made a name for herself after arriving in New York from Paris, where she’d interned at fashion magazine Purple, and soon worked her way into the orbit of celebrities, famous designers and even royalty.
Like Delvey, the source of Buddy’s wealth was shrouded in mystery.
“I think he was some sort of poultry oligarch,” said stylist Ronaldo Chen. “Vast holdings in eastern Europe, turkey farms, wineries and hotels.”
Delvey often took Buddy on her shopping sprees. Friends said she valued the feline’s astute fashion observations. Credit:
Others said he was a Youtuber and vlogger who helped popularize the wildly popular genre of unboxing videos, while some people said he was a tech bro raising venture capital.
“He comes from old money just like Anna does,” said French socialite Marinus. “House Buddeaux is one of the oldest catnip families west of the Seine.”
Episode 11 of the Netflix hit details the now-infamous party 2017 in Budapest at which Delvey is alleged to have made off with more than $150,000 of the Duke of Sandringham’s diamonds and left Buddy with more than $30,000 in hotel charges.
Still, there are apparently no hard feelings between the two.
“Buddy is a genius, bitches,” Delvey told Vogue last summer in a jailhouse interview. “I was surrounded by genius and now I’m here, wearing a horrid jumpsuit, locked up with basic bitches. My cellmate says she’s serving a life sentence for stabbing her cheating boyfriend, and I was like ‘Why are you being so dramatic?'”
Pain In The Bud 