Tuesday, June 28, 2011


For the past few days I've been checking my email a lot. Mostly to see who's answered my gross Craigslist ads but also to hear back from Beautiful People

They said it would take 48 hours so when they were late I began to freak out. 

Then I realized they're probably just finding a way to tell me that not only am I accepted but I'm also their Member Of The Month and/or new Testimonial Picture. 

I start worrying about how I'll juggle school with private flights to meet my beautiful rich boyfriends in Thailand. I stop seeing my friends and stay in all weekend to look at myself in the mirror. I call my ex-lovers and tell them that from now on I can't be seen with them in public. I cancel my gym membership (obvs I don't need it).

I check my email. 

You're shitting me.


Let me remind yall of the adORABLE picture I sent in of myself:

This girl looks cute, slutty and totally braindead-isn't that what Guys Want?

After smashing everything in my apartment I calm down enough to think.
There must be a reasonable answer to this:


1) Jealous Exes
One of my ExBFs works for this company.
As soon as he sees my picture his heart breaks into a million pieces when he realizes that leaving me for that Italian Graphic Design Girl was the biggest mistake of his life. But he knows I'll never take him back now and seeing me date Beautiful Internet Men will only drive him to madness/suicide. So he denies my entrance, to save his own life. (Always was a selfish bastard).

2) Mean Girls
I didn't have any rivals in high school because nobody really knew who I was via me never being there (sorry mom). However I'm SURE there was someone out there totally jealous of my older boyfriend with a car and/or my ability to sneak off campus by flirting with the security guard (still love you, Rex). Bitch must be their CEO or something.

3) Sexist Pigs
The guys judging the pics OBVS don't like "liberated women" who wear underwear in public and have "odio tutti" on their walls.

4) Fing Racists
DUH! Just have to find out who has a thing against Croatian/American immigrants (everyone) and it will make total sense.

Till then should I send another photo? A naked one this time? Or do what I said in the first place and just take myself out of my misery.

PS- It's bc I don't have boobs, right?

Monday, June 27, 2011


Why anyone would want to go to a music festival is completely beyond me. 

Suffering the rape-y public showers and revolting new-age hippies isn't worth even doing coke with Beyonce or witnessing Ke$ha eat glitter. 

For those of yall spending your American Apparel paycheck on a few hot days in Music Hell I’ve got some tips on what to wear & bring so you don’t die or whatever.

Rubber Boots: 
We invented concrete for a reason-nature is totally gross. 

Plus people will be peeing/vomiting everywhere so unless you want your feet covered in sick I’d suggest you cover up. (Boots will also help to hide the fact you haven’t shaved your legs in days).

I prefer skirts but unless you want some tie-dye wearing acid freak feeling you up in your tent while you're passed out from too much hot Corona and Ketamine Cocktail, shorts are the reasonable option. Plus if worn right you can rock some hot camel toe.

You’ll be taking your top off constantly.

Baby Wipes: 
You'll get laid at some point (whether you like it or not) and I doubt a bidet will be handy. Just trust me on this one. 

To trade for drugs.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Beautiful People

Yall know I LOVE dating sites. So you can imagine my excitement when I discovered this article on one made especially for Hotties.

The article describes how recently the site--which only allows members deemed "attractive" by other users--caught a virus which allowed a bunch of F'ing Ugly people to sign up! Obviously this was a huge disaster so as soon as he could, the owner of the site kicked off around 30,000 disgusting losers and sent an email informing them of the mistake and reminding them that they are still unattractive.

Intrigued, I figured I should give it a shot. Like, if zoo animals and faded jeans can get in, how hard can it possibly be?

I sent in a picture of myself that I think makes me look pretty sexually active/hot (my bra is showing duh)

and am awaiting their response.

If I get the Coveted Membership yall can expect some LOL posts on what "Beautiful People" are really like/how many guys ask me out. I'll also start posting some ugly/fat pictures immediately, as I've heard the site kicks off members for "letting themselves go."

And if I don't get accepted I will kill myself.  Stay tuned.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

london cAAling

I think that overall I'm a pretty "easy" person. Nothing really annoys me (I'm too busy being annoying) and I tend to look for the "best" in people (hence all my friends being in jail). Honestly I only get upset when something totally traumatic happens like finding out a guy I've been dating is actually a woman or realizing I've pulled out a million (long, beautiful) eyelashes in the process of taking off my mascara.

That being said, what happened today really pissed me off.

Today was my graphic design exam so this morning I printed out what I'd done in a book and figured it was great via me spending a ton of time on it (like at least a few hours!) and paying 50 fing euros for the print. So you can imagine I was pretty shocked when upon seeing it my professors didn't kiss and congratulate me like I expected ("where's the champagne?").

"Why is your book all pixelated?"

"What's that?" 

"What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"It looks great on your computer but not in the book." 

"So grade it based on my computer, duh!"

"We can't do that."

"But I've passed, right?" *high-fives*

"You can get a good score if you just print it better!"


"Come on, Tea, have some respect for your work! You deserve a higher grade."

"But I don't want one."

"You are better than this!"

"No I'm NOT!"

UGH so now I have to work on something I already did (apparently I was supposed to use pdfs instead of jpgs and have no idea what either of those are?) while preparing (starting) other exams like my photography project, the theme of which is "My Way," meaning I'll just take a bunch of Photobooth pictures of myself (Tumblr-style) and print them into another pixelated book.

Anyway sorry to be talking about school but it's leading to a point, which is that the only thing keeping me from jumping off my balcony is the fact that in about a week I'll be in London. 

I've been to London before but I was there with two American Boys who didn't know what else to do but go to Top Shop every day and watch iTunes X-Files at Starbucks. It was fun in the way that spending money to go to another country only to do exactly what you'd do where you came from can be. But this time I want it to be different.

This time I'm staying with Matthew (who probably only agreed to have me because I'm bringing the shoes he left in Venice) and I'm expecting a pretty good time.

What will I do?

I hope to learn some British Slang. My Italian friends are starting to pick up English and it's pretty annoying via them realizing I'm not as impressive when they can actually understand what I'm saying.

I wanna meet some Football Hooligans. The ones in Milan are short and smell like lasagna but in London they're hot and famous.

I'm gonna spend tons of money-in Italy you can get arrested for buying counterfeit bags but I'm pretty sure London is different via their fashion industry not being completely ruled by the Mafia.

Most of all I want to party hard enough to forget about the fact that the only way I'll ever get out of school is via death.

See yall in London! 

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

mafia fashion week

As yall probably know, Milan Men's Fashion week is over and all the [good] models have gone to Paris. (Some have stuck around here to do showrooms but who cares about them).

Post Fashion Week Depression has overcome me once again and I'm back in my pajamas eating ice cream and listening to suicide songs.

Though I'll miss having boys play my piano and walk around my haus in their underwear I must say I'm relieved I can sleep without makeup again.

Anyway, here's my MFW coverage for those of yall who care.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

the reject

I've never really had to deal with rejection because I'm usually attracted to Losers (a "good catch" is any girl not covered in chicken grease or weed resin).

I usually only get "rejected" by guys I'm already dating, via them ignoring my [stalker] text messages or leaving me for their Girlfriend (which is fine because I'm probably cheating on them anyway).

Anyway, last night was weird.

Only the gays would talk to me, the cute boys wouldn't dance and when asked "what they're doing later" models would lie to me and say "home."

"You don't have a home."

Maybe it's because I was sweating all my makeup off or they'd already seen me kissing the Help but if things continue this way I don't know how I'll deal.

How do yall get through rejection?

When you start to feel down ("It's my hips, isn't it?" #clueless) or angry ("OH yeah?! That ain't what your brother said last night" #me) it's important to stay positive.

Everyone's running away from you? Fine!

Just means you can put all your energy into investigating where the waiter took those mini hot dogs. (And allowing yourself to eat them-nobody's seeing you naked tonight).

Thursday, June 16, 2011

The Cyp Piece

Those who know me know I love to talk. About myself.

So when something happens to me it's likely that about a million people will know all about it by the next day. Especially if someone hot or famous is involved.

During my stay in Venice lots of stuff happened (obvs) but there's one thing that's been left out and people want to hear it. Or I guess they've already heard it-they just want to see it in "print."

My last Friday in Venice was mostly spent drinking overpriced cocktails and lounging at the Bauer. I was alone because my friends were out seeing exhibitions and I honestly couldn't be bothered (what?!).

With a whiskey in my hand I walk around the lobby looking for a place to sit. I see a hot guy with a magazine alone and figure that next to him would be perfect.

I ask if the seat is taken and he assures me that it's not. I get cozy and we have a nice conversation which goes [something like] this:

"You're starting early."

"Huh? Oh, my whiskey. You want some?"

"No, thanks."

"Is this your magazine?"

"How many people have you fucked this week?"


"Who have you slept with here? (He points to some rich guy) Him?"

"Ew, no!"

"Why not? You're into girls?"

(For a moment I consider leaving until I realize that anything is better than pretending to talk about art).

"How many people have you slept with here?"

"I can show you-wanna see?"

He takes out his iPhone and starts searching through the pictures. Between shots of Courtney Love, "such a mess," Jack from Salem, "high as shit" and random artists "not as good as me," he shows me girls in his hotel room that he's apparently seduced/taken advantage of the night before.

"Wow. She's pretty-what's her name?"


"You don't remember?"

"No I do...wait..."

"That's ok."

"No, it's important!"

"Don't worry."

"So why don't you like that guy over there?"

"I don't know. He's not my type."

Disappointed, he goes through pictures of his friends and asks me who I'd "do." He also tells me that he's "very agressive" and "almost never goes down on girls." #keeper

His boat arrives and he invites me to a party, in honor of him, Cyprien Gaillard.

I tell my friends about the Perv and they say he's a "really good artist." So with nothing better to do we decide to go to his event.

His party is totally boring, full of old people and lacking free drinks. I walk around desperately trying to find someone interesting, when I see him sitting with friends. I walk by, say "hi" and keep going (they're smoking weed and weed is for hippies).

My friend stops me.

"Tea, did you hear what he just said about you?"


"No, I can't even tell you. You'll be hurt."

"Have you met me?"

"Ok. Well, as soon as you walked by he said "that girl is such a slut!""

"Oh NooOOOOOooooOOOooo he didn't!" *snaps fingers*

I channel my inner Beyonce(?) and march back to where he is sitting.

"Hello, I would like to introduce myself, since Cyprien did it for me. My name is Tea, and I am The Slut. It's very nice to meet you."

"Whoah, Tea, I was kidding."

"Really? Well I guess it is funny that someone who shows off pictures of the girls he's slept with could call someone else a slut."

As his face grows red, I leave for the Bauer, not sorry my ass won't be in his phone.

what do drunk art people wear?

(Via Vice Style UK)

Every two years, the Venice Biennale brings pervy curators, pretentious artists, and glamorous prostitutes together to create a swarm of sleaze and excess only possible in a city as ridiculous as Venice.

I went with only my hopes of, a) picking up a Russian dealer, and b) drowning myself in prosecco, neither of which came easy. Why drink if everyone’s too chic to get drunk or pick up a billionaire if you can’t stay in his suite? And why does Venice stink so much and have all these goddamn bridges?

I guess I did have fun, nearly everything was free, after all. Most of us believe that radicals, good fucks, and the most fun people at a party dress differently, therefore you'd figure as the Venice biennale is a gathering of the art world's greatest, the people in attendence would look amazing.

Things didn't start off well. This is Jeff Koons—he who saw fit to turn making love to his porn star wife into art—in the most boring suit anyone has ever seen. I know nothing about art and wasn’t planning on doing anything other than party, until I was asked to help a friend install his exhibition, which I only agreed to do because it gave me an excuse to get high on spray glue. In reward for my hard work he took me to other exhibitions and told me who to take pictures of.

This scary green lumberjack in the cheap-looking shirt is art world big deal Julian Schnabel. Either he is the very opposite of stylish, or maybe his amber lensed glasses are a knowing nod to the mid-90s, or some rubbish like that.

These two on the left are London and New York's most fashionable artists, respectively. Feather earring, multi-colored print shirt, and all white ensemble aside, they're still wearing suits, like nearly everyone else at Venice Biennale.

The national exhibitions were open to journalists only and I didn’t have a press pass, so I had to jump over a fence, run through the woods, and lie to security just to get in. I felt like a total badass, until I realized sneaking into an art show is about as hardcore as breaking into a church. It was worth it, however, as I got to see everyhing. Plastic Lady was in the Austrian Pavilion and boy, did she look good. Her fashion non-sense allowed her to wear a water bottle blue transparent plastic mac and plastic wrap footwear. Maybe she's the future of art?

Most of the women were total clichés, in their Prada bandanas, YSL heels, and Armani dresses.

This guy, rocking the Mexican pimp look, was a Milanese DJ, apparently.

Dressed down and super comfortable was a big look with Asian art people.

There were a lot of bland outfits accessorized with whatever people thought Nicki Minaj would wear, hence lady on the left's orange nails and their fake eyelashes.

None of them, however, could compete with my favorite—red ball gown and backpack woman.

New Gentlemen’s Club magazine hired Danni Daniels to host their boat party. The boat cruised around for so long everyone got seasick. Danni gave me make-up tips and pulled me onto the bar, where things quickly turned hot. And gross. I don’t remember much, but now strangers ask if I’m "that psycho boat girl who poured vodka into everyone’s mouth”. I wish I had pics of the dance-off, or when I vomited in the trashcan, but I’m sure if you Google “stupid drunk girl” you’ll find some pictures of that yourself.

I actually saw Elton John but wasn’t allowed to take pictures because he was having a “fat day”. Instead, I had to make do with this picture of Courtney Love who performed two songs for a small group of rich cunts that didn’t know who she was.

This party was about as exciting as a dentist’s waiting room, but eventually I found French fashion designer agnès b. sat in a corner and as you can see, she looks as bored as I was. In conclusion, I was shocked how bland the fashion was at Venice, I'd actually brought all my best outfits thinking I’d be competing with futuristic art freaks but ended up just wearing whatever I'd slept in the night before.

Maybe art people used to look different, but in Venice they pretty much just look like business men in odd shoes, which says it all, really. The only vaguely surprising outfit was worn by this guy, but I'm not sure what to make of a fake Marc Jacobs channeling teenage female H&M fan.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

thanx yulz

So I guess I'm back on Facebook, thanx to Yulia pushing me into a relapse and ruining my life.

Though I'm happy I can stalk my ex-lovers and "like" what you ate for dinner again, I'm mostly glad to be back on for more serious reasons.

Facebook is important for networking aka messaging models you know will be in town this week and telling them you're doing a private Armani casting in your bedroom.

Happy mfw.

Saturday, June 11, 2011


My friends asked me to come to the beach tomorrow and obviously I was all "why the hell would I do that" until on my way home it started hailing (apocalypse) and I realized I need to get out of this goddamn city, even if it means getting sand in my butt. But before I really decide to go I'm making a list to be sure.


PRO: Nudity
Taking your clothes off at parties is fun but being topless for an entire day around complete strangers and male friends you secretly have crushes on/have slept with before is way funner.

CON: "Beach Body"
What the hell is a "Beach Body?" I always hear about it in the News and haven't really figured it out. And if I don't have a "Beach Body," then what do I have? A "Club Body?" Or maybe a "Bathroom" one?

PRO: Hot Guys
Guys are hotter on the beach because they're a) showing off their Bods via swimsuits and b) avoiding wearing any horrible shoes/clothes that would usually scare you away.

CON: "Hot" Guys
The problem with meeting a Stud in a swimsuit is that when (if) you do follow-up for drinks/dinner/sex you will probably find him wearing something terrible (cargo shorts) and then what will you do???

PRO: Tan
I hate tans but I must admit they make you look skinnier plus I'll take anything that helps me to resemble my dearest Snooki.

CON: Tan Lines
I mean.

PRO: Sea Water
Sea Water is fun because you can swim in it/have somewhere to pee.

CON: Water
This means only waterproof masacra which everyone knows is a total nightmare/doesn't come off for years plus no powder or other 'face makeup' or lipstick or blush or anything aka you must choose between swimming or looking hot cuz you can't do both #duh

(PS watch this video, I was looking for a "waterproof mascara" ad but this is kind of LOL via sexual innuendos or whatever)

In summery, the beach sucks as much as it doesn't but I'll probably go if they drive me.

Thursday, June 9, 2011


Today my cousin is getting married on a farm in North Carolina.

I couldn't make it via being unemployed (and angry about not being a bridesmaid).

However my sister is a bridesmaid (wtf) and asked me to write her Toast.

I obvs thought she was joking via me knowing as much about relationships as Berlusconi does about his illegitimate children so when she asked me to send it to her last night I found myself frantically searching online for Cher quotes and outtakes from "My Best Friend's Wedding."

Eventually I managed to write something about how my cousin's relationship with her BF Ive never met compares to the way she played with Barbies as a kid and my sister totally loved it (lied to me).

Seeing as it's summer and everyone's getting hitched I figured I may as well share some tips:



- Be Creative 
I find creativity comes last minute and/or under the influence of Uppers. This way you'll make something up and make the Bride sound more exciting.

- Be Personal
Include unforgiving information about the Bride's past Exes. One night stands and sexual exploits should also be recounted. This will remind her she's making a terrible mistake and reveal (via her Groom's reaction) she just married a prude.

- Be Funny
When all else fails tell offensive jokes directed towards the ethnicity of the Groom's family. This will draw attention away from you and hopefully start a cake fight/divorce.


- Get Wasted
Drunks are more articulate. Your speech will be dynamic and you'll probably end up ad-libbing and/or talking about yourself which is much more interesting because you're single.

- Get Sad
You can't believe your friend/sister/exgirlfriend is getting married and it's totally unfair. Why should you be sleeping alone tonight? What makes her so special? Why didn't you get any winks on match.com? Why the hell is your dress so ugly?! You're better looking and better in bed and hope that her marriage fails miserably.

- Get Slutty
Use your speech as an opportunity to hit on all the Groomsmen. They'll all be paying attention to you so this is the perfect opportunity to describe your panties and assure them you aren't menstruating.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011


I met London-based curator David Dorrell during the Biennale while he was working on the Orientale Exhibition, 

John Giorno performance 

and probably a million other things [parties]. I asked the man behind “Venice Now” how he got in this scene over a bottle of whiskey at the notorious Bauer Bar.

T: “What is ‘Venice Now’?”

David: “’Venice Now’ is a new art initiative formed with my colleagues, artist Robert Montgomery, designer Alex Possati and art mayven Shwetal Ashvin Patel."

T: “I don't get it." 

David: "Our goal is to provoke new ways of responding to art.”

T: "How did it start?"

David: “Four years ago some friends and I created an illegal party in a secret room in the Bauer Hotel, dubbing it the “Independent Republic of the Bauer.” It was a big hit and everyone was talking about it, till I finally got a call from one of the hotel owners.”

T: “Jealz. What happened then?”

David: “We took over the secret room, held a press conference and now four years later some of us are involved in “Venice Now,” promoting shows and exhibitions at the Bauer during the Venice Biennale.”

T: “Cool. Would you ever live in Venice?”

David: “Id rather die Venice. “

T: “True dat. So I guess you like English girls over Italians?”

David: “I don’t think I like either, particularly. You can’t generalize about girls, that’s awful.”

T: “You’re right. So what’s your next project?”

David: “Invisible Insurrection. That means a kind of invisible revolt.”

T: “Against what?”

David: “The status quo.”

T: “And what will you wear when you accomplish this?”

David: “Pajamas.”