I’ll vouch for you if you watch my back
Cause you got the goods, and I have attacks
Who will you dress up for
When I’m not around?
[LYDIA COURTEILLE - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
The scary thing is, I have no idea where this bruise came from.
It’s either from that supermodel soccer game just before Fashion Week…
Or from fighting to the middle of the Jane dance floor during Cassie’s set…
Or the unfortunate behavior of the girls next to me at the Barneys Warehouse Sale (who still, it must be said, failed to wrestle those Lanvin heels away)…
Or I guess it could be from an after-after party, though I generally play nice during those. Hmmm.
[DREE HEMINGWAY - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
Deb and Misha
So Living for It.
So let’s check out their clothing line!
[ODILE GILBERT - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
Elijah Woody: Hey, stop taking my picture.
The Dress That Won’t Die: It’s not for you. It’s for me.
Elijah Woody: What are you talking about? You’re just some random dress from Urban Outfitters. Space my eyes apart by two more inches, and I could be Frodo.
The Dress That Won’t Die: Trust me, they’re taking my picture.
Elijah Woody: But I’m almost maybe kinda-sorta the dude from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind! Does that mean nothing to you, you little rag?!
The Dress That Won’t Die: Yeah, okay, you kind of look like the really cute hobbit. But trust me, blondie, I’m famous.
[GEORGE THE INTERN - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
The sun stabs through my shades and I still haven’t slept.
It’s your fault, but you’re probably proud of it. It’s your fault, but you’re awake, too. Maybe our skin made a sleepless pact when it pushed too hard through the rest of our bodies. Maybe we’re just still high on cigarettes and skipping lines and other people’s spilled drinks. Either way, my gut’s still got the shimmers.
I actually hate it, the whole idea of planning myself around someone else. I don’t want to be quiet just because you’re sleeping. I don’t want to be naked just because you’re sexed. I said I’d never do it. But today I went outside for a Coke and I plopped myself too close to your stairwell, and swung my legs like Alice on the Wall.
I couldn’t stop laughing and I couldn’t stop hating, and the fizz in my stomach turned sour and warm at the same time. And I thought if I had to be tied to you, not always but sometimes, then maybe a part of me – the one I keep ignoring – could finally keep still.
Thank god you didn’t see me. But yeah, I wish you did.
[DAN HOERNER - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
1. Hanne’s upcoming campaign for Anna Sui eyewear, shot yesterday, backstage just before the Anna Sui show.
2. Magnus Berger trying to convince a pack of spaced-out male models that yes, the party was in his house, and yes, he really needed to cut the bathroom line… to get into his own bathroom.
3. Olivier eying Ali Lohan at the Purple party in a vaguely shocked, super-concerned way (much like the rest of us!)
4. WHICH big model was swapped backstage in The Tent because she just couldn’t be bothered to make it on time? One of the “smaller” girls ended up with an extra look, and rocked it.
5. Jared Leto pretending to jump off the roof of the Standard – and getting his body about halfway there. Seriously, Catalano, hold up.
[ASHER ROTH - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
Scene: the back of a very jammed party in a rickety vintage box on West Broadway. To your left, Mischa. To your right, all the reasons to walk away.
Imaginary Socialite: Hi.
Made 4 Chanel: Heyyyyy.
Imaginary Socialite: Dude, did we change the rules yet? Are we talking to each other again?
Made 4 Chanel: No, actually.
Imaginary Socialite: Okay. I’ll get out of your way then.
Made 4 Chanel: Hey, wait. Hold up. Your lipstick, you’ve got some right – wait, come here. I just want you to fix this one corner…
Imaginary Socialite: Nope. You can’t tell me what I need to fix if we’re not talking!
Made 4 Chanel: Oh yeah…
Imaginary Socialite: K bye.
Made 4 Chanel: Talk to you later.
Imaginary Socialite: But we’re not talking!
Made 4 Chanel: Yeah, but… whatever. I mean…
Imaginary Socialite: You’re totally laughing. I made you laugh.
Made 4 Chanel: Yeah. That’s not a surprise.
The Imaginary Socialite runs all the way home. The end.
[DORTHEA JORGANSEN - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
1. Debi Mazar dances with stars, plans her own eyeliner company. Also, just realized before Entourage she was in Empire Records…
2. Justin Timberlake spilling tequila on an unlucky fashion publicist, then apologizing to the publicist with a hug. This immediately changes her luck.
3. Michelle Pfeiffer buying half-price Lohan leggings in Las Vegas.
4. Alex Greenwald, Mario Cart champ.
[LAUREN SCOTT - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
Once you asked what made me so invited. I think it’s because I really miss the time I knew without anger. I should explain.
I knew without anger the way most kids knew without sex. They heard about it, maybe even saw their parents doing it, but because it didn’t exist in their world, they slid it away as something else – something outside themselves, something they don’t care to know. They just kept going, through cartoons and crunched leaves and smears of grilled cheese.
I always knew about sex, somehow, but anger – I had no idea. And then one day, I just… did. I saw anger everywhere, in everybody. The way a waitress put my water down too hard. The way my mom scrubbed a pot really fast, or really slow, and it scrapes the sink like something should die but it can’t. I see anger the way that creepy kid in the movie sees dead people.
I can’t make it go away, but I can shove it under the back of my brain, as long as I feel something similar, but not quite the same. You saw me shove it away, all the time, and you must have known. The way I take my hand, and ball it up until my nails crush into the crutch of my palm. I like to keep it there until it leaves marks.
Last year I was at a party with a psychic, and she took my palm and said I had two lifelines. She said I was very blessed because two lifelines meant I’d never be lonely. But I don’t have a real second line, it’s just the scars from my nails that keep cutting me down. I guess it’s dangerous to fake another lifeline, but I didn’t do it on purpose.
What is on purpose: Me calling you back. Because let’s face it, you’re the worst friend I’ve ever had. I knew you would be, right from the beginning, right when we said “hi” at the same time, but here’s the thing:
That’s why I loved you.
Anyway, take care. Maybe one day you’ll get what you want, which is what I already have, and then hopefully you’ll realize – it doesn’t mean what you think it does. Actually, it doesn’t mean anything. And right now, I have to make myself believe that you don’t mean anything, either.
Oh, also: I have to get ready for this thing tonight, so can I have that dress back? Just leave it outside my door. I can’t let you in.
[M WARD - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]