Imaginary Socialite

To: imaginarysocialite@gmail.com

From: sophie@riverdale.edu

The dress has still not been exterminated.

Indeed.

Though it seems to have been contained to the back lot of the old Virgin Suicides movie set.

[MARIO CANTONE - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

1. Jake Brown is the new Harmony Korine (if you’re a betting man).

2. $1000 is the new free drink (if you’re a society writer).

3. Canadian supermodels are the new British supermodels (if you’re a lonely rock star).

4. Gallerinas are the new call girls (like, literally).

5. The CW SATC prequel. Hey Taylor, would you trade the eyeliner for a baby pair of Manolos?

[JESSALYN GILSIG - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

What kind of girl colors in her Alaia ballet flats?

a) The kind of girl who knows they’re real, and thinks it’s cool to wreck them (think: Mary-Kate).

b) The kind of girl who knows they’re fake, and thinks it’s cool to brand them (think: J-Wow).

c) The kind of girl who knows they’re borrowed, and wants to make sure she gets them back (think: Monica Geller).

d) Becka. Diamond. Duh.

[ISABELLE MARANT - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

Kelly, 25

Skin: English Rose.

Eyes: New York Smoke.

Hair: French Wave.

Heart: International Velvet.

Add: A pinch of Goldie Hawn circa Laugh In, to taste.

[VIVIENNE WESTWOOD - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

To the boy shooting blanks:

Nobody believes you when you hold her hand. There’s no conviction, no blood flow, no heart. This is not the action of a joyful early Beatles song. You know it; we know it: Your love has gone limp. But if you can’t let go of her, that’s okay – just know I still hate you, and still think you’re great.

To the boy shooting drinks:

This is a fun game, but sooner or later we’ll have to stop looking so scared. I don’t think drugs are gonna help you; I don’t think extra lip gloss is gonna help me. Maybe it’s an after-midnight thing that happens when souls hatch open because you’re too tired to guard them. Maybe it’s a Montauk thing, when seeing a bathing suit leads to seeing the future. Either way, we probably need a carton of cigarettes and a dying cell phone. And I don’t even smoke.

To the boy shooting the breeze:

Next time, I’ll say yes.

[SS FAIR - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

Spotted at Coachella by Joanna Miller.

She says, “They just won’t give it up.”

We say, “This might be the only time that The Dress That Won’t Die has been used appropriately.

Casual outdoor attire, paired with shorts and minimal makeup, actually fitting the girl’s body, acceptable accessories…

A plus, adorable!”

We also say, “Okay, DTWD. Quit while you’re ahead.”

Like that’ll ever happen.

[KATHERINE BERNHARDT - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

During the Renaissance, girls used to bleach their hair with urine. It started as a courtesan thing but soon everyone was doing it – the princesses, the waitresses, the kids. Botticelli’s paintings of Simone De Medici (and let’s face it, they’re all of Simone de Medici) show a goddess in all her golden glory. Really it’s just the familiar story of piss turned to glamour, which happens all the time.

New thought. Sort of. It has become quite cool to want to die.

Horrific too, but when you have a chain from Ledger to McQueen, from sloppy did-you-mean-it to cinched let-me-go, it’s an issue of flashbulbs as well as fatality. This week, Google changed its search engine, so when you type in “ways to kill yourself,” it sends you straight to suicide prevention. That’s amazing. And yet, it’s okay to want to kill pieces of yourself, swiftly, sharply, like a kind of soul electrolysis.

Don’t apologize for that. Just do it quick, before you let yourself look back.

[MARK RYDEN - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]