Exactly two weeks ago, I met a tall, black-haired, pink-skinned thing named Ellen. She had a huge smile and a pair of overworn cowboy boots and a business card that read “model.” The first thing she said to me was, “unfortunately, I only eat rabbit food.” I liked her immediately.
When we left the party, the shoe designer Courtney Crawford asked for my number. Ellen, and her boyfriend John and Scout, laughed uncontrollably. Courtney’s shoes are incredible, but he does come off a little bit frat boy TRL olive garden. Ellen pulled me into her cab; we went to Orchard Bar with the other Tarts of Pleasure. Except we were just tarts.
Exactly one week ago, Scout and I crashed on his couch watching Empire Records and gorging on sushi, when John and Ellen showed up at his apartment. We went to Orchard Bar again. I escaped to Darkroom, found Heather and Bea, Scout found us, fast forward to Back to the Future at 6 am, fun. Ellen escaped early.
Then on Tuesday, I went down to the West Village to get fitted for an outfit, and crashed into Ellen, eating said rabbit food at a corner deli. She just left her old agency for Elite models, which is great. We walked to the subway together, kissed bye bye.
Yesterday I am in the showroom of Courtney Crawford, frat boy MTV shoe designer. I am trying on his shoes, which are obsession-worthy and uncannily like Jimmy Choo. Courtney stands up and drops a piece of paper; I pick it up for him; it is Ellen’s contact sheet. She is the new face of his line, he has just decided.
I am not allowed to tell her because they haven’t called her yet. But if fate keeps acting up, Ellen’s totally reading this blog right now. And, the bigger question – WHY have I crashed into her like five times in a week?
[JEANNIE LEE - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]