Imaginary Socialite

Silvia, 25

her hands cut hair
her cheekbones cut glass
on friday night she cuts in line
and her wit cuts up

plus: she’s on a roller derby team!

[FIONA MICHELLE - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

Raging and sad and parked in my colorist’s chair.

“I want to be Gwyneth,” I growl, but of course, I can’t. Subtext: Nobody dumps Gwyneth.

“How about Scarlett?” she strikes, and I feel like anyone but me is just fine. Subtext: Only Jonathan Rhys Meyers dumps Scarlett, and that was on film.

Three hours and two glazes later, my hair is gleaming, a shade of white gold once reserved for Harry Winston.

I feel better for maybe 4 hours, but that night, I’m hissing something vicious at someone I love, and I just can’t stop. At 5 am, I scan through the party pictures. My hair looks like flame licks and my eyes tinted black, a demon in cashmere with Heineken shards.

I can’t sleep so I read Allure, the new one, with Gwyneth, whose hair looks haloic, angelic, un-me. Inside:

“In a recent poll, 11% of our readers said their new year’s resolution was to be less of a bitch.”

Yeah, no shit.

[DEANNA KIZIS - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

About a million years ago, I plunged into the North Sea. It was February. I was naked and whirling, then soaking, then sick.

A bed-bound blonde tangle, I watched A Knight’s Tale ten times straight. My favorite part, besides Paul Bettany, was the choreographed dance routine. “Yeah,” I’d whisper hoarsely, “that could so happen.”

But Saturday night, it kind of did. We clumped on the floor, wove through hellos and kisses and suddenly steep conversation. We traded drinks and flashbulbs and stares, and then the one song we knew together started blasting.

At 4 am I couldn’t scream anymore. We fought over who got to say goodbye last and I lost.

Flipping onto my back, I saw the sunrise through my curtain crack, and wondered a little what my hair would look like from above.

[ALEXIS BRAZEL - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

We laugh so hard the music stops thumping, and the boys in the bathroom line glance over, confused. Our purses smack together and our beers sit untouched.

“I wish,” says the drunk girl, “I wish you were all guys, because then it would be easy.”

We’re silent because it’s true.

“Hey,” says one blonde to the other, “what’s your name?”

Silence again, but this time because she’s too drunk to remember.

More laugh spasms, and we turn our backs to the door.

[ALYSSA MILLER - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

To: am.i@imaginarysocialite.com
From: ellen@thesocialcavity.com

The West Jersey Animal Shelter is closing at the end of this month. The Pennsauken, NJ shelter had it’s license revoked. There are 31 dogs and 5 cats in desperate need of adoption. If these animals are not adopted by the end of the month, they will be euthanized.

The West Jersey Animal Shelter is open for adoptions Monday through Friday from 11 a.m. until 4 p.m. and from 11 a.m. until 5 p.m. on Saturdays and Sundays. Phone (856) 486-2180.

Even if only one pet is adopted, that’s still a big difference for that animal’s life

(totally. and it’s nice to love something that loves you back for a change, too).

[ROBERTA SMITH - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

To: am.i@imaginarysocialite.com
From: CantStop@beatbox.com

Why is it that the only time my exes visit my site is by clicking on the link from yours? Your site traffic must read like my little black book.

Friday, I’m not in love…

[KATHRYN HAHN - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

…and this is what happens on fridays…

[ODESSA RAE - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]