Any veteran of the city's social scene will tell you that a party is judged not only by the list of boldfaced names in attendance but by how many actually stay and for how long. By those standards, the annual San Francisco Fall Antiques Show, benefiting the Enterprise for High School Students, should receive high marks. Unlike last year, when you could watch the social heavyweights cause a valet parking jam as they left en masse at the close of the patrons' reception hour (and the beginning of the general admission preview party), many continued to linger even as the crowds poured in.

It is a testament to the Antiques Show's draw that it can fill the cavernous Fort Mason Center with enough people to lend an air of intimacy, as you bump into friends left and right. "I literally ran into people I went to elementary school with," said Reese Relfe, originally of San Francisco and now living in L.A. "That's why I drop by the party—to see people I haven't seen in a while."

So while San Francisco society might resemble Edith Wharton's New York at times, with the same rotating cast of characters, a good third of them showed up for the event. This included Danielle Steel, who's been sticking to more private affairs as of late. She came dressed in a faux-crocodile leather coat and earrings that were much discussed among those same women who've turned getting dressed and bejeweled into a competitive sport. She was joined by Thérèse Post, wrapped in a sumptuous Persian lamb coat, Taffy Schwabacher, and Kendall Wilkinson, who roamed around with husband Gardner Robinson.

That a contingent of the younger folks (the under-45s) showed up masked a social truth. More and more, the society game is becoming an older one, as a new generation (with a few exceptions) rejects the theatrics of the social stage. Understandably, many just want to be left alone, live inconspicuous lives, and focus on raising their kids. But it makes for a more sclerotic social scene.

Fewer of those interested in society are true social stars. Perhaps the very things that make for a distinctive social personality—self-invention, an adventurous spirit, wit and style—are increasingly anathema to the city's segregated, insular culture. Who knows? But society's most entertaining have always been connected to something greater than a six-block radius in Pacific Heights or Nob Hill. They embrace a world in which all worlds—art, literature, politics, and business—collide. Pat Montandon attempted that with her roundtables in the 1970s, which gathered all walks of life—activists, socialites, titans of industry, and politicians. Flick through The Andy Warhol Diaries, and you'll see references to Ann Getty and Denise Hale in that same decade.

San Francisco used to be such a society town. Now it is more a philanthropy town. And while philanthropy's an important component, it becomes flat without flair. So even as people complain about the confused and diminished social coverage in the Chronicle (Is it Wednesday? Is it Sunday?), the truncated columns are hardly surprising. Getting the general public interested is a hard sell.

And we're even losing touch with events outside 415. Consider the recent death of the international social and style icon C.Z. Guest. While news of her death lit up the phone lines everywhere, with long obituaries in the New York Times (which dubbed her "society royalty") and WWD, among others, her passing didn't rate even a mention in the Chronicle. Hers was a life defined by style, taste, and daring. From being painted nude by Diego Rivera (with the finished work hanging in a bar in Mexico City until her husband bought it back) to her days hanging with authors Hemingway and Capote to hunting with Francisco Franco, she cut a swath through the worlds she moved in.

"She was truly, truly unique, and always wonderfully elegant," said Denise Hale, who met C.Z. decades ago in New York and became friends with her. "Prentice and I used to love visiting her home, where it was always spring—the magnificent bulbs she'd plant, all in fabulous colors."

Perhaps we might count ourselves lucky that we aren't seeing some of the young scions out more. Two recent shows—MTV's Rich Girls and Johnson & Johnson heir Jamie Johnson's documentary Born Rich, which features the spawn of the superwealthy (Trump, Newhouse, Bloomberg) discussing their backgrounds—offer a glimpse into a vulgar new generation. The former is a crass show best described as the WB doing Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. The show follows the shopping habits of private school girls who view Paris Hilton as a role model. (Meanwhile, the Paris Hilton sex tapes are making the rounds via email and on the Internet.)

Born Rich is creating buzz around town for its cringe-worthy quotes from Manhattan's gilded youth. (Referring to Southampton's Meadow Club, one says: "People would not be very excited if someone came in with a black person." When the director points to an African American playing tennis, the girl glibly trills: "Oh, he's probably a pro.") Thankfully, our town doesn't have as many in those leagues. The ones who are don't grow up as fast, as one young socialista commented to the Socialist, while another pointed out the local scene is even more insular than in New York.

Which brings us to our conundrum. The young-uns circumnavigate an incestuous swirl of private parties, although they do make appearances for certain causes (pets are big) and hit fashion and trunk shows. To wit: The mellow Summer Tompkins Walker (who seems ambivalent about publicity), together with Kelley Johnson (wife of Don), hosted a party for fashion designer Lela Rose at Ann Getty's. All the PYTs, including Vanessa Getty, showed.

The younger set also hit amfAR's gala, which featured Robin Williams cracking off-color jokes ("I see you brought the twins out," he said to a buxom babe). AmfAR galas are fun affairs, where disparate groups mingle, from social gals Kimberly Bakker and Beth Townsend to well-heeled hipsters like boutique owner Kelly Kornegay and Greg McCord, who donated a week at his Provence estate for the event, and A-gays (fund-raiser Peter Poulos, who organized the event, and Al Baum). Maybe there's hope for the younger set yet.

Coming Attractions: The Socialist hits the holiday bashes.