Monday, March 25, 2013


(Sometimes I link my VICE columns)

If you don’t have dreams, you have nothing. And if you have dreams, you should do whatever you can to make them real. I have two: to be be wealthy enough to take taxis everywhere and to be frivolous enough to throw outfits away after wearing them once. I try to achieve these goals, not by working hard to earn that wealth, but by paying for taxis with my mom’s credit card and throwing my wardrobe away in a hysteric craze.

I was feeling drunk generous last night and donated a bunch of clothes to one of those Yellow “Charity” Boxes. They say they’re for charity, but they’re probably owned by some old creep who wants to sniff used panties, (what idiot would donate their panties when they can sell them online?), and I’m sure of this because I have yet to see a homeless lady in my old Zara. Anyway, I threw them away because I was going through my closet and decided I hate everything, and I was going through my closet because I was packing for this week’s Spring Break Beach Trip (obviously, I’m still unemployed). Usually beach trips are easy to pack for as you just bring a bikini and enough alcohol to convince yourself you look good in your bikini, but I’m not just going to the beach, I'm going with boys! And not just boys, but ones I’ve had past obsessions with, and by “past” I mean current, so I need to look devastating! But how am I supposed to do that when I’ve got nothing to wear? *Faints*

I don’t regret throwing out my wardrobe because that’s what Spring is about-it’s about fresh beginnings! It’s about cleaning under your bed and dumping your boyfriend! It’s about a bright, new look, or in my case, feeling disgusting and uncomfortable until October.

I’m never ready for Spring. My genes aren’t cut out for it. As much as I fight against it I know that my body was meant for potato farming, vodka brewing and child-bearing in Croatian snow. I’m meant to be huddled under sheep for warmth, not running from one McDonald’s bathroom to another in order to refresh my deodorant and baby-wipe my butt.

You’d think that someone who enjoys being naked in public would love the seasons of skimpy clothing, but my problem isn’t one of modesty, but science. Warm weather makes me sweaty, bloated and gross, making it hard for me to Dress To Impress, which is so #essential here. American women dress for comfort while Italian women dress to make their husbands regret cheating on them-I get that, and I can deal with that standard when it’s cold, (everyone looks good in fake fur), but I can’t understand how you women turn into Fashion Unicorns as soon as the flowers start blooming? With no awkward in-between stage? Are any of you girls in my same boat or is it just me? Doesn’t matter, it’s my column, and I’ll cry if I want to.



I sweat like a whore in church and by “whore” I mean myself and by “church” I mean the STD clinic. My hands are always damp (if I’ve ever high-fived you or jerked you off you know this) as well as my feet. I know most of you can wear sandals or even regular shoes without socks (and y’all can S my D), but for my Fellow Gross Girls, I suggest knee-high white socks with platform sandals or oxfords, via Cher in Clueless. It’s a good look, and by “good look” I mean it attracts men, because deep down all men want to fuck a School Girl (and you should all be ashamed of yourselves).   

DRESSES: If people can’t see the inside of your uterus when you bend down you’re doing it wrong.

PANTS: I haven’t been able to feel good in a pair of pants ever since I “recovered” from anorexia. Call it Body Dysmorphic Disorder, I call it a lifestyle. Moving on.


LINGERIE: Let’s bring back bras as tops, experiment with the idea of Formal Thongs and rock maternity panties as shorts. If the fabric is fancy enough, nobody can tell the difference.

HOSIERY: If I could know how much money I’ve spent on pantyhose in the past few years I’d probably react the same way as if someone told Lindsay Lohan how much she’s spent on crack. With that cash I could have bought cars, houses, islands, or at least gone to professional hair salons once in a while instead of butchering my bangs by myself.

This might be because I can’t not rip a pair of tights as soon as I get them but also because I wear them year-round. I’ve spent entire Springs and Summers in black (shaping) tights because I can’t deal with the horror of my legs sometimes rubbing against each other. (Insert: “that’s why your legs are always open” joke). Honestly, how is suddenly losing the trusted support of Control-Top Pantyhose not as traumatic as losing a loved one to cancer?

Anyway, 15 den sheer stockings are the only “acceptable” option for warm weather but the types of girls who don’t destroy those five minutes after putting them on are the same types of Fashion Unicorns who look good in Spring and therefore aren’t worth mentioning.

FACE: People say when you lose your phone that means you need new friends. And when you leave all your makeup in a bar you have no time to come back to because you’re rushing to a meeting and are therefore forced to spend 200 euros at the nearest Sephora because you can’t be without a full face of drag mask for even a second, that means Spring is here. (What? Feminine Products are expensive! I’ve always said that the day I stop letting men pay for my shit is the day tampons stop costing 6 euros).

BODY: I’m eastern European and y’all know what that means, it means I can’t look at myself in a full-length mirror naked in natural daylight without having a body-hair stroke. I used to try to wax myself with Nair Strips but my hair was too strong for them. Really, I used them on my neck and arms and got actual bruises because the hair wouldn’t let the strip come off without brutal force. I looked like a junky that enjoys strangling herself (not far from the truth, but still). Now I just spend hours plucking hairs from my face and shaving the rest every day while hoping to god I never end up in a coma unable to take care of what I’m sure y’all wouldn’t even believe if you saw it. Why is having a human female body such a nightmare?


You need a purse small enough to not weigh you down but big enough to hold your panty-liners and baby wipes because god knows your vagina will be wet, and not in the good way.

I’m exhausted just thinking about these months to come. I feel totally defeated. In fact, I’ve changed my mind about one of my dreams. Maybe wearing something once and throwing it away isn’t chic. Who actually does that, anyway? The coolest people in the world are cartoon characters, and they wear the same thing every day.  

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