If Claire was 46 instead of 26 this wouldn't be an issue; I may know (about) what my coworkers make (really, I have only the barest clue), but I certainly don't know what they did before this job or what their wealth plans are for their life after. I work with several people who own their homes and I never wonder how they could afford to do so on "what must be" their current salary; there's the simple, sweet assumption that at some point they made enough and saved enough to afford a down payment over the years, when at my point in life I simply haven't (or haven't been able to) - of course, with yet added on the end of that. On the other hand, I'd say to Claire that there's a wide space between "assuming a coworker's parents help them pay for housing" vs. "assuming a coworker's parents help them pay for housing and also somehow had enough money and leverage to help her get her current job." Why would the two be so inextricably tied? As an outsider, such an assumption would feel like a giant leap. I know a waitress/hostess who goes to several, several music festivals a year - I assume her parents help her pay for those, (in a trickle-down sort of way if not directly - i.e., by helping pay for her housing so she has money to burn on music festivals, if not giving her money for the festivals themselves) but I'd never think her parents got her her job, too.
The issue is that Claire is trying to hide it. This makes Claire a bitch, a snake and the most stereotypical expression of nepotism and aristocratic gladhanding there is. Your family had nothing to do with you getting the position? Bitch please. You have a masters in public policy and you're working at a non-profit in DC. The fact that you're not living with six roommates and driving for Uber 40 hours a week is proof enough of your family's influence on your life. Y'all are broadcasting that shit to orbit. I work in nepotism central. Everybody knows. What matters is can you do the job? Can you demonstrate that your presence isn't dragging everyone else down? I don't care how VIP you are, PA; a Starbucks run in an Evoque is still a Starbucks run. If you can do it without being precious about it nobody will care that your last name is Coppola, and if you can do it without pissing anybody off we'll assume you'll be an EP by next season. This shit isn't new. Surely your daddy told you. All we ask is that when the seat opens up on the board of that think tank your dad's golfing buddy runs? Remember who taught you how to do your job. Remember who covered for you when you fucked up. Because we'll be here long after you're gone and while we will never be in a position to hurt you again, you'll be able to fire us all before you need a new phone. So at least do us the solid of fucking acknowledging the difference. Treat us like people and we'll sing your praises to everyone. Treat us like shit and discover just how long a memory lasts... And just how far someone will go to strike back when the opportunity arises.