Anya Schiffrin

To my great surprise this year, the Davos registration forms arrived with a space for Davos Wives to fill in our institutional affiliation. Having written last year about the humiliations of the blank badge, I’ve decided to take full credit for this major step forward for womankind: the recognition that we have lives outside our existence as the Wives of Davos men. My editor Chrystia Freeland is now waiting for a change in policy that would allow Davos mistresses to also list their affiliations.

When I wrote my column last year, I didn’t expect the outpouring of responses from Davos Wives, but I was delighted to find myself buttonholed by many in my cohort who longed to share their experiences of being snubbed at Davos.

While walking down the Promenade of Davos Platz on a sunny winter morning looking for a place to have a decent cup of hot chocolate (tip: better wait till you are in Zurich), I was approached by a Davos wife I’d never seen before. She thanked me for saying in my Reuters columns what she and other white-badged wives had been thinking for years.

She got the absurdity of our situation and knows that the way to cope is to laugh. “I love the snubs,” she said, and then explained how she handles the working lunches. “My strategy is to sit at the end of the table because then only one man is ignoring me while playing with his smartphone.

“The worst was the time I put my bag down, went to get a drink, and then realized I was sitting next to Abdullah Abdullah, who had just lost an election. He didn‘t come to Davos to talk to me, so I got up and moved to another table to sit with some wives.”

She put me in mind of a few other snubs that my own obliviousness had led me into in the days before. As soon as we arrived at the Caixin magazine breakfast, the organizers grabbed my husband and steered him away from me. It was 2:45 a.m. New York time, and I was not at my best. Not knowing where to go, I followed and then sat down next to him, my laptop balanced precariously next to a plate of old ham and a pot of tepid tea. I didn’t realize that I had cheekily invited myself to sit at the speakers table until a China expert from New York City who was at the panel called one of my friends at home a few hours later to report on my pushiness; said friend kindly relayed his comments back to me on a Skype call.

The next evening, entering the Indian cocktail reception on my husband’s arm, I saw a photographer maneuvering to get just the right angle. Helpfully I turned so as to avoid having my hawk-like profile immortalized — only to find that all his maneuverings were aimed at getting me out of the way so he could shoot my husband with a group of more important people.

In these situations, I laugh my head off, but the Promenade wife said stronger measures may be needed.

“It’s that deep-down ambivalence. Every year I sort of hope he won’t get invited. I think we need a therapy group or a spiritual group. I look with envy at the Muslim prayer room. We need a spiritual group,” she concluded before continuing down the Promenade.

It’s a well-known fact that men behave badly at Davos. The alcohol, the chance to rub elbows with and even talk to other VIPs, the excess amounts of testosterone, and in some cases the joy of a limo ride from Zurich Airport all give rise to a competitive atmosphere in the hothouse known as the World Economic Forum.

Less widely discussed is the fact that the edgy atmosphere sometimes crosses over into overt unpleasantness and sexual aggression. Single women at Davos report that at times they are prey to unwelcome advances that range from annoyingly uncomfortable to downright threatening. It’s not that surprising, given the fact that Davos is a truly male-centered event.

In quiet corners of the Convention Center, I’ve heard a few ugly stories whispered to me by the women involved, and the men in question don’t come out at all well. There is the former U.S. government official who spent a couple of days trailing around after a decidedly-not-interested single friend of mine — to the merriment of onlookers, who could not avoid seeing the unwholesome spectacle. There was the evening at the gala dinner, when I saw a glamorous blonde being hotly pursued by a drunk Swiss man who spent hours with his arm draped over her shoulders trying to entice her into joining him at a nearby piano bar where they could be alone together.

A journalist friend described being followed late one night by a man claiming to be a Morgan Stanley banker. She was trying to get back to her hotel room after a dinner and, of course, the shuttle was nowhere to be seen. “You know how hard it is to get a taxi if you are not someone important,” she told me, as she described the scariness of walking down the Promenade while being pursued by the man who was hoping for a night of passion.

Perhaps the newfound respect for women at Davos (we wives even get to list our affiliation on our name tags this year) will give rise to a more female-friendly environment. I’m not holding my breath, however.

PHOTO: Visitors attend the World Economic Forum (WEF) in Davos, January 25, 2012. REUTERS/Christian Hartmann

I am starting to think that the average lily-livered man may not be able to face the vicissitudes of life at Davos and that we women are much better suited for the event’s rampant paranoia, ego smashing and petty humiliations.

Because we are Davos Wives, we know how to cope. A more important husband means more blatant snubs for the spouse and that means more hilarity. I loved the  gorgeous prime minister’s wife  who , after reading one of my columns last year, approached me, laughing. “Thank you so much,” she said. “This stuff happens to me all the time. Often the security people won’t even let me get into the car with my husband.”

Meanwhile an aggressive and hard-hitting London QC came to Davos one year and folded after only a few days. He refused to return the following year despite the entreaties of his friends who were attending. “It’s awful. I don’t even want to like it,“ he said. “And besides it’s probably passé and Klaus Schwab is just sooooo……”  Yes ? And what exactly  is your complaint? We Davos regulars all know these things, but they are beside the point.

The point is that Klaus Schwab convenes more important people in one place than anyone since the Congress of Vienna. And it actually does get better. Everyone hates it the first time. If you really can’t stand it, then take the afternoon off and go skiing. (Of course, that introduces a host of other Davos issues, but one might argue that the humiliation of falling on the slopes is far more bearable than the ego bruising that goes on indoors.) There’s also the logistical confusion, made worse by the recent redesign of the conference center, which moved a number of key venues to different parts of the hall.

Among the many mysteries of Davos is the fact that my husband — who can normally never find his shoes without help — is transformed into an intrepid explorer at Davos, taking me by the elbow to find all the necessary back routes, highways and byways so as to ensure that we get to the Google reception on time. In fact why does someone who is always in bed by 11 p.m. even want to go to the Google reception?

First timers always say they are baffled and bewildered by the logistics and never know where they should be. Even agreeing to meet at the coffee bar raises the question of which one. I can usually be found in the airless basement nibbling on a stale croissant but have been told that behind closed doors there exists a well-appointed partners lounge where legendary seafood platters are served. Naturally, I’ve never been inside.

So Davos people, it’s time! Pack the moisturizer (the single most important cosmetic, Davos wife Laurence Pasicoff Heyblom assures me) and get yourselves to Zurich Airport. Now that we’ve been downgraded from an Audi limo, I’ll see you on the shuttle bus.

PHOTO: A member of Swiss special police forces stands on the roof of a hotel during strong snowfall in Davos, January 24, 2012. REUTERS/Christian Hartmann

What is the pre-Davos season like in your household?

Planning for Davos starts quite early in the year. Months before it actually begins there is the inevitable jockeying for spots on desirable panels with important people, a frantic glance every day at the e-mail to see if any interesting dinner invitations have come in, and a hunt for a hotel room in a location not too far from the conference venue. Wives like me don’t have to do any work at Davos so I just think about packing. Moisturizer is crucial, since the mountain air is so dry, and I will try to rustle up a couple of respectable outfits that I can wear by day and at the evening dinners as well. Then there is footwear. You can carbon date Davos Wives by their shoes. Newcomers tend to wear attractively dainty heels. Veterans like me have given up. I don sturdy shoes and try not to slip on the ice.

What are likely to be the main themes at Davos this year?

Davos tends to be more interesting during periods of social upheaval. Confronted with facts that threaten his worldview, Davos Man loses some of his smugness and becomes a bit more confused. Founder Klaus Schwab is always interested in the zeitgeist, so there will doubtless be many panels about the global protests, the euro crisis, the Arab Spring, and Occupy Wall Street. How Davos Man will respond I don’t know. My favorite comment during a panel on global warming a few years ago came from a businessman who reminded his audience that one upside to global warming is the ease of drilling for oil under glaciers. This year there will be more security, plenty of gloomy observations about the state of the world economy, questions about whether China can maintain its expansion, and so on. We’ll also see a lot more conservative heads of state at Davos this year, since so few social democratic governments survived the elections and turmoil of 2011.

How do Davos Wives occupy themselves while Davos Man works?

We go to any panels we can actually get into. Usually that means the ones about art and science, which Davos Man tends to skip. Last year’s panel on the pollution of the world’s seas was packed with wives. When we can’t get into a panel we may repair to a local café for hot chocolate or sign up for the perennial horse-drawn carriage ride to a fondue restaurant up in the hills. If all else fails, we can always prowl the halls of the conference center, hoping for a sighting of Bono or Tony Blair.

Are there any Davos Husbands lurking about?

Every now and then one spots a Davos Husband, gay or straight, but he’s a rare species. They are often mistaken for Davos Man and tend to be good sports about their role as trailing spice. They don’t join Davos Wives in their traditional activities. I suspect they are on the ski slopes or watching panels. I hope to meet one this year.

What do people talk about at the dinner parties?

The men discuss economics and the women discuss how they feel about being Davos Wives. Some swear they won’t come back but they usually do. We trade stories of snubs and panels we couldn’t get into. Davos is a competitive place; there is always much comparing of notes so people can learn which events they didn’t get invited to. Gossip is a valuable currency—as it is everywhere—so any juicy examples of drunken midnight misdeeds are passed around pretty quickly. A lot of untoward groping goes on after hours and that is discussed quietly rather than openly.

How’s the nightlife?

Davos encourages bad behavior. It comes from the hot-house atmosphere of high-powered egos, the high altitudes combined with too much drink. All sorts of people who would never stay up late can be found—cocktail in hand—at the Google party, the Time Warner reception, and the gala dinner on Saturday night. It’s usually too loud to have a conversation but they try. Last year one businessman held forth about his travails in Russia and kept the crowd entertained with a lengthy description of how he lost his company to the tax authorities. That passes for a gripping evening at Davos. There are always a lot of men who become “geographically single” when they arrive, and even the nerdiest expert in anti-malarial bed nets or obscure financial instruments fancies himself a player the moment he steps foot in the Zurich airport. Late at night, these men can be found eyeing the local talent, and there are rumors of at least one baby being born nine months after a night of passion at Davos.