The girl on the right is a TGBT: A Too Good To Be True.
She’s adorable.
She’s rocking insanely cool heart-shaped shades.
She’s mastered the look of red lips in the day.
She’s dancing and not posing.
And she’s got a sweet Chanel purse.
But nothing’s ever this good – is it?
[ANNICK GOUTAL - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
Or as Atlanta DeCadenet says, one of them is “definitely one of the dumbest bitches out there.” Yeah, guess which one.
[MATTHEW BIRES - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
[email me - imaginarysocialite@gmail.com]
“Be my girlfriend,” he thuds.
It’s 5 AM and I’d think I was dreaming, except the waitress heard us. She was laughing, and not on the inside.
“What does that even mean?” I laze. I don’t mean to be all 500 Days of Summer but the truth is, I need to stall.
“Don’t play Philosophy Major,” he snaps. Actually, I studied art. Actually, I can bullshit way better than those metaphysics kids. “You know what I mean,” he continues. He tugs on his t-shirt. I think he only wears one, but maybe he has multiples, like Superman. “A girlfriend. She should be cool, and she should get me, and she should be really nice. She should be you, maybe.”
Laughter behind us. The waitress. I order Lo Mein Then I look out the window.
Here’s what my guts do: They splurge on pink and purple slime, and churn the threads of glee and “gross!” into a sticky knot that scrapes above my ribs. I can feel rainbows and hearts and sunshine jabbing into my stomach. I can feel hands on my thighs even though I’m twisted up. And the happy and the horror zip themselves together and finally fold away.
Here’s what my face does: It hatches into a daylight grin and a stream of laughing air. I learned how to do this when I was fourteen, but as I grew up, it got harder to tell when it was fake. I’m not grown up yet. I shouldn’t have just typed that. Anyway.
“I’m tired,” I hiss. “But you’re funny. Can you pass me the hot sauce?”
We live a block from each other. We take separate cabs home. I sleep dreamless, and with my fingers in my hair.
[AURELIE BIDERMANN - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
1. You know what’s even more important than an Alex Wang bag? An Alex Wang wrist band. Girls, keep checking your mailboxes…
2. Beautiful baby socialite, we know what you did last night – because you left the underwear that your sister designs on the floor of Le Bain.
3. People read this blog besides Bevy?! WTF. Dude, calm down, your new cafe will be amazing. Breathe deep.
4. The City may be over, but ELLE on MTV apparently isn’t. Erin, are you ready for your next model-actress-employee? She’s cooler than OP, we swear.
5. Barely-teen Elle scores a high fashion ad campaign. Dakota for Marc was just the beginning. Wait, what?!
[LUCY HALE - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
[WATKIN TUDOR JONES - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
Sky Ferreira, 17.
Mary Kate Olsen and Georgia Jagger have a baby.
Then they rip out Christina’s vocal chords.
And steal songs from Chrissie Hynde.
And produce them on Wii Music, before sticking them to a wall with Bubblicious gum.
That’s basically Sky. At least, until she changes her mind again.
[ANNIE LENNOX - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
These rings and this Louis Vuitton bag have one thing in common:
They were both imported from a Paris attic in the ’80s.
But was the suitcase made in Paris…
Or did it come from somewhere else -
Like a factory in Taiwan?
[GAIA REPOSSI - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
