Prelude: Dallal is the Persian word for Broker.
Recently a fellow writer, one of many brethren across the pond in Europe, became naturally fascinated with the latest in Euro-trash playboy antics, this time the interest being that the playboy in question, namely Alex Dellal might very well be of Iranian heritage, and therefore worth noting from a parso-paparrazi basis.
I’ll grant that the boy certainly looks the part until you find out his mom is Brazilian and then there goes pretty much any chance for a hopeful comparison. A little digging and googling however turns up some interesting facts about the rich, who we seem to be so overly obsessed with relating ourselves as Iranians to.
Alex Dellal, the playboy and currently number one on the European paparrazzi hit list, and the subject of our interest is an art gallery owner in London, currently sponsoring some rather controversial and interesting art, that has garnered him attention, along with the many juicy girls he regularly festoons himself with for sport. Some of even European royalty grade A choice cuts. I said, cuts.
But Alex Dellal is basically a rich kid’s rich kid.
The main father is Jack Dellal 81, whose estimated wealth is around the 1.2 billion pound mark, better known as “Black Jack” Dellal for his penchant for the cards, became a commercial property tycoon in the grandest sense. Born in Manchester to Iranian parents, no one knows his persian name, and possibly a young Iranian couple stuck in Manchester in 1929 might not have been all too eager to give him an Iranian name. However I like to think it was secretly Jafar, although that would have become Jeffrey. Regardless, Jack received a very very basic degree from Heaton Moor College. A city college. He then built an empire, literally brick by brick, and eventually came to own some of London’s better commercial real estate.
Black Jack Dellal is married to Ruanne, a former Miss South Africa, and has nine children, seven from a previous marriage. One of those, is heir apparent, Guy Dellal.
Guy is the consummate useless heir, unable to do anything of remote note, including being unable to screw up his humongous share of the family commercial realty prize. He heads up Guy Dellal Commercial Property. See! Even the name of the company his dad gave him is uninspired! The competition with dear old dad is such that Guy would rather spend months at a time at the infamous getaway for the rich and untalented, known as The Ashram in Majorca, supposedly for the driven A-types who just can’t seem to relax. Personally I think Guy is faking it, by going to an Ashram specializing in overachievers, it makes him look slightly appealing and competent. Again, there is so much Dellal money, even mad Guy can’t screw this up.
Which brings us back to dear old Alex the son of useless son of Black Jack, Guy. Currently Alex finds himself caught in the Rolling Stones debate. Not the usual debate of is it Mick or is it Keith? But that he is simultaneously, strenuously, seducing the daughter of Mick, Elizabeth, and Ron Wood, Leah, whilst frolicking amongst the authors, designers and painters of our day or whomever is hanging around his uncannily Warhol-esque gallery. One wonders if this is merely to out-do dear old dad, Guy, who was once Jerry Hall’s clitoral cling-on.
Personally, I kind of like the whole act of defiant “In your face! Dad!” insolence. It shows Alex is alive.
Somehow, all this seems pretty sad when you break it down, although I am sure the series of fashion model melo-dramas they seek out, to entertain and stimulate their heart muscles, seems like real life to them.
But I keep thinking about that Iranian couple who settled in Manchester in 1929, what they intended for their family, and whether or not they are perpetually turning over and over and over in their graves, likely ever since Black Jack came home from school one day and told them he’d had it, and wasn’t going to answer to Jafar anymore, and that they would have to call him Jack from now on.
