Imaginary Socialite

To: ImaginarySocialite@gmail.com
From: Waiting@ByThePhone.com

Hey

I see u have a shirt that said the socialite.

I was wounding were you got it?

What dose the back say?

Or if you were will to sell yours?

I would be happy to pay 35 for it or abit up…”

Thanks dear. The back says Find a time machine and zoom back to 2004. Alas, I think that’s the last time it’s been considered a compliment to be called a (real) socialite.

Today, an equivalent shirt might say “DJ with famous parents,” “It Girl with Agenda,” or, perhaps, “Surfer - Slash - Stylist.” Meanwhile, it seems “Underage Blogger” is already taken… and overpriced.

[IMELDA MARCOS - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

Spotted at Norwood last Friday night:

A very bright, very large Louis Vuitton duffel bag being carried instead of a purse by the young woman at left.

The puckered canvas and lopsided seams seem to indicate it’s a Canal Street staple.

But maybe it’s a real, live, hot blooded Vuitton, and just leaning so far left because it wants to get closer to her impossibly cool short-shorts?

[MANDY COON - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

Paris Fashion Week is almost over, and with the invasion of double-digit months and double-back leather wedges comes a realization:

The Dress That Won’t Die may not be disappearing forever, but it’s definitely getting packed up and stashed with H&M bikinis, Converse for Target wedges, and those see-through t-shirts from American Apparel that everyone tried to pretend were from Alex Wang.

So let’s bid a fond “see ya” to TDTWD as it walks into the East Village sunset…

For now.

[PALOMA FAITH - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

Laure, 28

After arriving from Paris, Laure promptly snuck into Rose Bar, claimed an apartment with a sunbathing roof, raided Urban Outfitters, fended off various annoying celebrities, and signed up for a pole dancing class.

Just another piece of the American Dream…

[CHRIS GREENHALGH - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

[JOSEPHINE DE LA BAUME - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

[NICHOLAS KIRKWOOD - 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?]

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?]

You know that I was hoping that I could leave this star-crossed world behind

But when they cut me open, I guess I changed my mind

And you know, I might have flown too far from the floor this time

Cause they’re calling me by my name…

[MICHELLE OCHS - 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?]

TopShop by Ashish platform wedges.

Also shown as part of their “Marianne Faithful” inspirations.

$280 American.

About four inches high.

Available online.

Yes or No?

[BRAD GORESKI - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

Life will come and life will go.

Each life has its place.

[AMY RAE AND EMILY SALIERS - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

She said jealousy is something that distracts you

I said it’s hard to focus with your fingers in his belt loops

Then there was the dream about you naked in the bathroom

Telephone just rang I heard you say I’ll call you back soon…

[ALEX HAWGOOD - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

“Don’t worry,” he wheezed, as I left the classroom last. “You’ll be a heartbreaker one day; you’ll see.” A few days later, his heart shut down and he died. That’s pretty much how it started.

Now I’m stretched on someone else’s summer blankets and wondering how it ends.

And I remember the winter when it was too cold to tell the truth, I stole that car to see you. You were dying; you said so, and even though it was just a bag of bad drugs and a fever, I drove so fast I hit a wall. I spiked tea with Nyquil and crushed Xanax. My party dress stained with lip gloss and blood. I didn’t care. I curled around your outline to make sure you kept breathing. We didn’t talk; we didn’t have to.

Now we don’t talk either, but that’s different. That’s not folded hearts on a futon. That’s the jagged truce that keeping ourselves together means keeping each other apart.

Here’s the thing that’s silly but scares me: In four days, we’ll be in the same place at the same time. Is it wrong if I don’t want to see you? Is it wrong if I do? I still can’t decide. But I bet you can.

[DAN HOERNER - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]

[REBECCA KROHN - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]