Monday, January 31, 2011

teenage riots

The only thing I like more than teenage boys are British teenage boys.
And the only thing I like more than them are violent ones.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

shuffle me

On the rare occasions I take Rihanna off "replay" I set my itunes to shuffle. It makes me feel spontaneous and reminds me of my extensive [horrid] taste in music.


1) "Peaches" the Stranglers
My mom bought me this album for my 16th birthday, which showed she loved and understood me. I showed I appreciated that by skiping class while listening to it.


2) "Sugar" Bikini Kill
I probably only bought this album to Look Cool in front of a boyfriend or something because I only ever listen to "Rebel Girl" and everything else stresses me out.

3) "Gucci Bandanna" Soulja Boy
I will only stop being obsessed with him when he turns 21. So I've still got a few more years.

4) "In the Ghetto" Elvis Presley
LOL beause Elvis singing about da Ghetto is like me singing about books.

5) "Crash N Burn" Savage Garden 
I liked these guys around the time I liked the Backstreet Boys (last year). I thought they all wrote their own music and were into girls.

5) "Centerfold" J. Gelis Band
This is one of those songs every girls hopes will be sung about her one day.

6) "Tropicalia" Beck
Still not sure how I feel about his music, mostly just envious of his complexion.

7) "Who's that Girl" Eve
From her "dark stripper past" to Gwen Stefani collaborations there's nothing not to love. (LOL at how high-tech that blood scene probably was back then #middleschool).

8) "Halfway There" the Skoidats
Even Ska can turn you into a Hippie if you aren't careful.

9) "Guilty of Being White" Minor Threat
I made a Minor Threat hoodie and met Ian MacKaye while wearing it. I'm convinced we had a "moment" and I will never stop telling myself that (or the judge trying to enforce my restraining order).

10) "I Love Rock 'n' Roll" Britney Spears
I thought it was pretty pathetic when that old washed-up brunette tried to cover this.

emergency etiquette

Good News: My high heels aren't to blame for my leg problems.

Bad News: I've already burned them all and declared the End of Fashion.

Today I went to the hospital to get a "second opinion" on this knee issue I've been having. The doctor said he "wasn't sure" what's wrong (Italian Healthcare) but that it's a "miracle" I've been walking (it was Men's Fashion Week, I would have crawled). 

He ordered an X-Ray for Monday and injected 3 horrid shots of something right into my knee to "ease the swelling" (make it 100 times worse). Then he sent me home with a perscription to pills I can't pronounce and directions I won't read.

On my limp home I reflected on the 5 glorious hours I spent in the waiting room, where I learned about myself and the world:


1) Cast Fetish
I am attracted to any man (or boy) with a broken limb. 

Even Freud would be disgusted. 

2) Nurse Fetish
It's Over. 

When I handed in my American documents and Nurse McDreamboat started using broken english from 90s Mtv I didn't tell him I speak Italian or that nobody says "wazzup" anymore. After questioning me with the charm of Bevis & Butthead he turns to his colleague:

(in Italian)
"This one says her knee's been swollen for a week but she didn't hurt it. She's lying or just stupid, what do you think?"
"I think I'll show her how to hurt her knees."

(to me, English)
"Doctor see you soon, we take good care." 
(pounds fist on chest, then peace sign)

I promptly made a phone call in Italian to make them feel like "figuri di merda".

3) Fake it (till you break it)
Patience is not a virtue.

As I was waiting silently (checking out Boy With Broken Arm), others were crying and throwing fits just to be seen faster (think Naomi Campbell circa her entire life). I sat back and thought how stupid they'll feel when they realize we're getting in based on numbers.

As I watched them all enter before me regardless of numbers (I was called in when I was the last person in the room) I promised myself next time would be different.

4) Getting In
Hospitals don't understand how to run their shit.
They should start using guest lists & door selection via nightclubs.

"I hear if you show up with an Axe in your head you can jump the queue" -Matthew Stone

Thursday, January 27, 2011


After seeing these photos I've realized 2 qualities make a friend:

1) Having different hair color/skin tone (preventing competition in your "type"- if this changes friendship terminated).


2) Using only your assigned Picture Face.

The only thing more awesome [pathetic] than our self-awareness is the lipstick on chris's face


Wednesday, January 26, 2011

there was an old woman who lived in a shoe

I started wearing heels after I shaved my head a few years ago via my image suddenly going from "hot" to "dyke."

I had 0 boyfriends that year.

After noticing the appearance of my legs (skinnier!) and attention from boys (harassment!) I threw away my flats and never looked back.

~Fast forward to present day~

I wake up one morning and notice a sharp pain in one knee.

"Must have been a rough night."

That afternoon, swelling.

"Am I getting FAT?!"

By the evening I am crippled.


This week I've been walking with the grace of LiLo on a bad night. But I refused to blame my shoes-so instead I took pills, elevated my legs (lol) and even went to the pharmacy for advice (hospitals are for losers). The pharmacist told me something I've been trying not to consider-because my mom already warned me about it-I've fucked up my legs and it's probably permanent.

I did research (WEB MD) and found I either have:

1) Knee Osteoarthritis

2) Tendinitis 

3) CANCER!!!

I realized that short of suicide there's only one thing to do-buy (and wear) flat shoes.

Luckily today I was with MatthewMatthew who helped me pick out a pair without falling into a deep[er] pit of self-loathing/depression: red velvet Dr Martens made for a Vampire Dinner Party.

My legs look short, I dont move my ass as much when I walk and I feel "vulnerable" in the way you do when you take your makeup off even though you know people know your lips aren't actually sparkly and eyelids aren't really blue (mine are).

Anyway it's either this or a wheel chair and the wheel chair store was closed.

back on the floor

In Paris its business as usual.

No furniture (poverty)

Trashing hotels (destruction)

Trashing ourselves (desperation)

Underwear as outerwear (fashion)

Garbage as outerwear (art)

French Cuisine (eating disorders)

& Sexual Harassment (work)

more to come as soon as I polish off this french goats cheese (obesity).

Sunday, January 23, 2011

the morning after

Every time I go to Paris fate is against me. Yall remember last time when I went to the wrong airport? This time I missed my flight and had to go a day later. (Thanks ryanair).

In hopes of ensuring I don't miss my flight again I showed up 2 hours early to the station (around 2 am). Nobody was outside so I went from hotel to hotel asking if I could wait in the lobby so I don't get raped/killed/freeze to death. Apparently it's illegal to let pretty young girls sit in hotel lobbies.

My last option was to ask the only open bar in the area, which happened to be a strip club.

I get to the door.

"Hey boys...can I come in?"
"No, only men."
"What if I am a man?"
"Are you sure? I see some girls in there."
"No unaccompanied females."
"What if I find someone to take me?"
"The garbage men."
"Sorry, ma'am."
"I'm all alone I need to wait 1 hour for the bus."
"Tough shit."
"You'll regret this; I'm a PR, could have brought in tons of business."
"What's PR?"

I felt like Mary & Joseph looking for shelture only I'm not a virgin.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

the hype

The streets and trams are empty and milan is ugly again.
The models have gone to paris.

Girls have quit their diets, made up with their boyfriends and marked their calendars for june.
My MFW was the most successful to date-but I won't dwell on it. Rather I'll wrap it all up with a chat at McDonald's with a kid from the Hercules Casting.

19 year old Russel from Brooklyn who loves whiskey and pizza and didn't know about the Male Model Hype until I told him ("Damn, really?! Like model groupies?!"). His friend [who walked every show and will remain nameless] just shrugged and told him he "missed out." (He refused an interview via being too much of a "star").

T: “How’s Milan?”
RG: “It’s very Victorian.”

T: “Italian girls?"
RG: “Bellas!”

T: "Do you even care about fashion?"
RG: "Well duh-I'm wearing a tie!"

T: “You’re from Brooklyn, how’s Milan fashion versus New York fashion?”
RG: “New york is full of clowns!”

T: “Your favorite party?”
RG: “The Fendi party, that shit was crazy! Open bar, 1000 people waiting for the bathroom and these yellow lights that heat you up. I got a tan!”

(The Fendi Party courtesy Dennison Bertram):

T: “How do you feel about girls throwing themselves at you all week?”
RG: “Well apparently I wouldn't know! But there’s no desperation in groupies. We’re on the same page.”

T: “Do you like italian food?”
RG: “I’ve eaten pizza every single day I’ve been here. “Fashion Pizza” by central station.” 

No matter how much I begged him he wouldn't take a picture in front of McDonald's. I guess Americans don't appeciate what they have till it's gone.

i want candy

CANDY 2 from Luis Venegas on Vimeo.

Monday, January 17, 2011

a beautiful day in the neighborhood

I thought having a construction site [workers] outside my balcony was good

until I was told about the Military Academy.

This morning I woke up to the sweet sound of young men yelling and being yelled at.

I finally have a reason to wake up in the morning and get the concept of "neighborly love."

Speaking of voyerism, our Hercules Magazine casting is finally here.

The only thing that could ruin my mood is Lady Gaga announcing she's pregnant.

Happy Men's Fashion Week, everyone :)

Friday, January 14, 2011

ciggies & crosses

Hey yall remember when I posted that illustration video of models smoking cigarettes?

My mom hated that post via it "promoting smoking and implying that it's cool." I assured her that my title was ironic and the artist was making some kind of Statement but she didn't believe me because I'm usually wrong.

I decided to find out for myself so I contacted (stalked) the artist and asked her about it.

"I don't like smoking cigarettes. Cigarettes, along with crosses, are my signatures...both are bad for you. Their presence in my work symbolizes addiction. My work often refers to self-inflicted, negative patterns and behaviors that we try to overcome, but in a strange way can't live without.  Whether that be bad relationships, bad habits, or smoking cigarettes..."

See, mom? :)

Read my full article on  Cosebelle.

(Select all/copy/open new tab/google translate/italian to english/paste)

Thursday, January 13, 2011

shred it

The way men feel about "school girls" is how girls feel about "boarders." (obsessed/creepy)

Whether its skating or surfing, we love them because they are always wounded, bleeding or exhausted, which means they're usually vulnerable and need your help.


Wednesday, January 12, 2011

yard $ale

Tomorrow I'm moving out and I'm doing my Final Packing.
I've found some things I dont want yet can't throw away (must save my trash bags for makeup).

So I've decided to Do The Right Thing and give them to yall (for cold hard cash).



It wasn't a clutch when I bought it but it is now via me breaking the handle off.

10 euros

Has some holes in it, put your tampons in a seperate bag.

20 euros

I bought this at the same time as the red Moschino Soon-To-Be Clutch. Must have been in my "Carmen Sandiego" phase.

5 euros


I mean, what do you need to know. Its made out of sweater fabric (?) and it's black. Brand unknown (probably Croatian).

5 euros

I bought this 2 years ago and one of the pockets is sewn together and it doesn't keep you warm. But it buttons all the way up so it's great for robberies.

30 euros

I bought this in Paris when I was craving cotton candy.
I only wore it once, lost some friends and all credibility.

5 euros

Complete with a broken zipper and fleece lining. Doesn't hide even the smallest boobs and serves absolutely no purpose.

I will pay you to take this 

Apparently I used to wear these. They're pre-faded. Don't wanna talk about it.

10 euros


Charlize Theron in "Monster" Boots
I must have been severely depressed when I bought these. And more so if I ever wore them.

20 euros


This model cell phone is a piece of shit but it survives anything and I heard that drug dealers use it (instant street cred).

2 euros (10 if you want my contacts)

Stole these from a showroom. They'll keep you warm on lonely nights.

50 cents each

Cosmo, Glamour, Vogue, I've got them all. I'm only keeping the ones with Lady Gaga on the cover.

Price based on the cover girl/how many pages I've ripped out.

I got [stole] this flower at my first Milanese Haus Party back in 2008. My 2 friends and I each got one and thought they were real ("they must be from Africa!") until the next morning. I was watering mine when I got the embarassing phone call. I've had it ever since.
This flower means a lot to me because it represents My Milanese Journey. It reminds me of my first days here and how happy [mentally unstable] I was. But like any relationship, this one must end.
It's stupid to attatch sentimental value to useless objects, right?

100,000 euros