Half a dozen unpleasantly, solipsisticly self-obsessed characters wander around doing nothing except being horrible to each other and to themselves. It doesn't tell you anything about them, about the sixties or about human nature. If I learnt anything from this it is that rich people get annoyed if they don't get what they want, but that actually they usually do, in fact, get what they want. Not, I am sure you will agree, the most revolutionary of philosophical insights.
I suppose that one must excuse the baby from the same criticism heaped on the other characters except of course when one stops and reflects reflects on just what she is inevitably going to be like as she comes of age in the eighties having grown up in that background.