But she made her feelings clear after I published an article last weekend about her, accusing me of “kicking someone when they are depressed,” seemingly oblivious to the criminality of her situation. She then posted a series of bikini selfies on Instagram.
Even media commentator Mia Freedman dumped her nickel, venting her fury at the media for calling Fisher, who has made a business out of her enviable social life, a “socialite.” Freedman argued that it was a demeaning label.
Justice Hudson told the court how “fed up” people in Sydney’s wealthy eastern suburbs must be with the cocaine trade, given that they see similar cases before his court “almost daily.” He described the drug as a “stain on our community.”
He is right. It’s no secret that the cocaine trade is drenched in blood, desperation and crime, but sadly for Justice Hudson, many of his constituents have not been listening.
In the last few days I have been bombarded with stories of high profile people indulging in cocaine during the pandemic at some of the fanciest addresses in this city and being completely indifferent about it.
Some of them are people with significant influence over the functioning of our community, people who come with legendary family surnames of wealth and privilege that have been woven into the social fabric of this city for generations.
And yet they risk it all courtesy of smartphones and encrypted messaging apps, which have made buying cocaine no more complicated than ordering a pizza or an Uber.
Friends share phone numbers of unknown distributors among their circles. Messages ring out across the city as delivery and payment details are sorted, and $ 300 is handed out for a small plastic bag filled with indeterminable white powder from who knows where.
The presence of those little plastic bags in meetings is now considered as normal as opening a bottle of champagne.
But the stain of cocaine crime is not easy to remove. Ask convicted drug lord Richard Buttrose, who spent a decade behind bars and watched his marriage unravel.
While his aunt, Ita Buttrose, has praised his ability to “change his life” since he was released from Silverwater prison, it was his notoriety that gave him a place in warts and all. SAS Australia Reality series involving famous contestants grappling with their dark past.
Buttrose recently married high-profile public relations figure Tiffany Farrington, one of this city’s red carpet figures who knows all the media actors very well, including myself. She is very knowledgeable about the media.
They kept their relationship a secret from the press for years, well aware that his name still carries the weight of a scandal that will likely overshadow him for the rest of his life.
I spoke to Buttrose, who before the pandemic had started going to events in Sydney with Farrington, after they finally clarified their relationship in a newspaper article. He is a competent, personable and friendly person.
I have asked him about his time behind bars and his crime, the scale of which (police raids 11 years ago uncovered seven kilograms of cocaine worth a street value of $ 10.8 million, along with $ 1.3 million in cash ) was epic.
But instead of deep regret or shame, I was surprised by his almost arrogant response when he said, “Dude, I thought I was just helping some friends … they were all doing it.”
It seems they still are.
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