“I’m not materialistic.” Victoria Beckham
I thought in honor of my birthday tomorrow I would post a collection of my favorite photos of myself. But then I remembered there were too many so better to go with just one. Okay fine two.
Do you not die??? headband. topiary. fake boobs. foam platforms. one piece? I know. I was such a vision. ary. And oddly clairvoyant…
“If you have a hunchback throw a little glitter on it and go dancing.” James St. James
The thing with clubs is, they can really suck. But the thing with clubs is, they can also be really affecting. Like Saturday night for example- no line, no crowd, so fun. By the looks of it everyone was either at pier 94, or some all white thing. Which if you ask me, will just never be as chic as an all black thing. White makes everything visible. Especially fat. ugly. and pale; the likes of which black would make appear less fat. less ugly. and less pale. But what do I know, I’m just happy concert kids are tired the new club kids. meow.
“She would be half a planet away, floating in a turquoise sea, dancing by moonlight to flamenco guitar.” Janet Fitch
I spent the past few days out at the beach. And it was fucking fabulous. The only thing more chic than summer beach, is winter beach. Sun and no sweat. Biking and no sweat. Breathing and no sweat. It’s.. amazing.
“And I will never, ever respond to anybody – man, woman, vegetable, or mineral – who tells me to keep my mouth shut.” Janice Dickinson
Last week I started primal scream therapy. Which.. is exactly what it sounds like. Therapeutic primal screaming to excise the demons within. And let me just say it’s been fan-fucking-tastic. Once I got past the non-guttural, non-cathartic, high pitched shrilling and fear that someone would call 911 on my war cries– I’ve been unstoppable. I bellow. I roar. I restore. It’s been so successful that not only did I get one of my doormen to join me for a sesh, I’m thinking of organizing locally.. globally.. Team Scream. Scream loud scream proud. xx
“I have a whole army of pajamas.” Heidi Klum
So, my birthday is coming up soon and I’ve been thinking that instead of the $2.6million I was going to ask for–I’ll take a bodyguard instead. For one theres nothing more chic than having at all times at least one person in your entourage willing and paid to take a bullet for you. And I mean, someone to hold your handbag– priceless! If I could be hands free eternally– I’d die. In heaven. Chanelo. Handbags are so tired.
Anyway back to my bodyguard, rather than the burley ex-cop/Marine/Hulk ogres every other Heidi starlet orders, I’m going international. As in O-ren Ishii’s Gogo Yubari. Blade swing thing and all. I mean, it’s just so unassuming. And obvi I’ll need to learn Japanese, which is so chic anyway– but like after that it will totally just look like I’m drinking/smoking/shopping/spa’ing with my Asian homie. Which is soooooo much better than psychos knowing I’m protected 24-7. Especially lately, having a cray stalker and all. Who– I’m totally sure at some point is going to come try to skin me and wear me. It’s next level obsesh. Though if it ever happens, you’ll know instantaneously so feel free to attack it liberally…
My birthday is in one month and twenty six days. Parents, you know what to do. Other fam. Friends. Lovers. Followers. I’m registered at CVS. xx. Apparently I’m too old for familial health insurance.
Image courtesy of rumorfix.com
“I am in danger of believing the glamour of my own press.” Jessica Savitch
You knew it was only a matter of time. Just kiddinggg– this is my blog and technically all I do is write about myself. uah. Anyway I’ve had a considerable amount of new followers the past few weeks and I just wanted to say I love it, I mean thank you, I mean I’m on Twitter so follow me. And watch my fashion broadcasts! xx
“Art saved me; it got me through my depression and self-loathing, back to a place of innocence.” Jeanette Winterson
I found this drawing on Tumblr a few weeks ago and it really spoke to me as the perfect depiction of mental illness, mental efficacy and just plain humanity. It hurts to be human. trust. As much as I love hearing myself speak, sometimes I wish I’d just shut the fuck up. Inspired the other night by one of my gorgeous cousins– here’s a little poetry to help quiet the noise. You’re beautiful.
it’s okay.
it’s okay to laugh
and okay to cry.
it’s okay to frown,
but even better to smile.
it’s okay to stay,
and okay to go.
it’s okay to rush,
but even better to go slow.
it’s okay to do much,
and okay nothing at all.
it’s okay to stand,
but even better to fall.
it’s okay to be different,
and okay one in the same.
whatever you do,
it’s okay
just be you.
“It’s not enough that we know I’m prettier than everyone else, I want the world to know.” Jackie Burkhart
So, it really freaks me out that in life we never truly get to experience our own faces without the help of a mirror, photograph. or lake. Which is just so fucked. I mean here I’m given a mug since birth that I’m just supposed to trust looks the same as it does in your sunglasses or on film. Uh– NO! I mean let’s be real, if I can hear myself differently with the use of a recording device, who’s to say I don’t see myself differently through the use of a visual aide? Which basically means body dysmorphia is a real thing. Which basically means I have it. Which basically means I need someone to wear a Dani-mask for an undisclosed period of time. Ya know, until I arrive at the rendering of my purest facial self possible.
With everyone getting engaged/ married this year- am I supposed to care?
As if you were the only ones?
What– have you not been on Facebook?
Too busy changing out-of-wedlock baby diapers?
No. You’re there.
I see your relationship status updates.
In-law comments.
Chip ring pics.
Tacky bridal parties.
Maybe if you project enough happiness online
you’ll actually begin to feel it in life.
With everyone getting engaged/ married this year- will your divorces be so trendy?
Half maybe?
Statistically.
What then with the albums you put up?
Husband.
Wife.
Lava cake.
Cover photos of unborn baby shapes.
EW.
Will you take them down?
Replace them with your life’s frowns?
Court documents
broken homes.
Do you think people will care for your misery
the way you paraded your gaiety?
Will you cease to exist?
Online.
Your only life line.
If you never post married,
you’ll never claim divorced.
You’ve got your book of faces,
I’ve got freedom
way up high
on this horse.
“And things just got completely out of hand.” Marci, Cruel Intentions
Happy Birthday to the most amazingly gorgeous, intellectually intelligent, stylishly savvy, comedically brilliant individual I know. And no matter how old you get- I’ll always be older. ew.
