“Drug Dealer Fashion: Hits and Misses” on The Style Con

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The follow is an excerpt from my piece “Drug Dealer Fashion: Hits and Misses” as seen on The Style Con:

Murderous drug lord and up-and-coming style star Jose Rodrigo Arechiga Gamboa (known in friendlier circles as “El Chino Antrax”) was recently arrested in the Netherlands at the request of the U.S. government and Interpol for, well, mostly the whole drugs and murder thing. As a member of one of Mexico’s gnarliest drug organizations, Sinaloa Cartel (just in case you were wondering where you were getting all your blow from), Gamboa is suspected of killing and hanging three men off a bridge in 2011, though it is not clear as to what order those events occurred. No matter, they’re dead.

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“Gripes from Singleland” on Lady Clever

a-boy-standing-aloneThe following is an excerpt from my piece “Gripes from Singleland” on Lady Clever:

As each month passes, my kind becomes increasingly obsolete, a species on the verge of extinction. Our numbers dwindle, slowly at first and then more quickly towards the end, an insidious but expected decline, until, all of a sudden, you look around and you’re the only one left, the lone surviving cockroach after the asteroid strikes. Yes, that’s me. The last single girl in the room. The incidental holdout. The persistent proverbial roach.

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“Yo, White Lady. Don’t Sit on Black People” on The Style Con

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The following is an excerpt from my piece recently featured on The Style Con:

Just in time for Martin Luther King Day, Russian socialite, Garage Magazine Editor-in-Chief, and privileged white person Dasha Zhukova was busted in a picture sitting on a black lady wearing panties and tranny shoes in a shoot for Miroslava Duma’s Buro 24/7. I mean, she’s not literally sitting on a black person. This isn’t like that scene in Bruno when Paula Abdul (American Idol host and signer of my once favorite ‘80s jam “Straight Up”), for some shameful amount of time, was coaxed into using a Mexican man as a settee. But still, whether made of epoxy resin or skin and bones, it doesn’t matter. White ladies, you are not allowed to sit on black people. Never ever ever ever.

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“Your Boobs: There’s Hope” on Lady Clever

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The following is an excerpt from my piece “Your Boobs: There’s Hope” as seen on Lady Clever:

I stand in vague, slightly embarrassed shock. For the first time since I turned 12 and started shopping (entirely needlessly) for bras, I have been complimented on my breasts. “Jenny,” some young girl says, “you have nice boobs.” Another young lady chimes in behind her in agreement. I eek out a sheepish and confused “thanks,” because I don’t ever remember having boobs and, if I currently am the owner of a nice – if not incredibly modestly sized — pair, it has crept up on me like those three ungainly inches I grew over the summer of ’95. In keeping with my inability to take a compliment, I deign to accept her fawning carte blanche. I tell her I never had boobs until maybe recently. “How old are you?” she asks. And then I blow her mind. “Almost thirty,” I say. She yelps in delight. “There’s hope for me yet!”

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Maybe She’s Born With It, Maybe It’s Drug Addiction: A Beauty Guide!

larry_clark_5762_1024x768-1The following is an excerpt from my column “Maybe She’s Born With It, Maybe It’s Drug Addiction: A Beauty Guide!” on The Style Con:

If you, like me, went to a Catholic high school, you might have learned that abstinence was the best way to prevent all that icky stuff that came along with jumping some other undeveloped teenager’s bones. Yes, abstinence was – and is — 100% proven to prevent pregnancy (oops), diseases (ew), and fun (bummer). And no fun is no fun in my book. That’s why the whole abstinence thing was so wholly unrealistic. The only people I knew in high school practicing abstinence were only practicing it accidentally, which means they only accidentally didn’t get Chlamydia their junior year and only accidentally didn’t get pregnant before their 18th birthday. If they could have, they would have (maybe not the STDs and babies, but certainly the sex). Because we all know, once someone opens those pleasure gates, there’s no turning back. We humans are a weak and difficult breed, inevitably destined for hell. Embrace it.

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“A Stud. A Shave. A Statement: Crazy Horse” on Harry’s Five O’Clock Mag

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The following is an excerpt from my column “A Stud. A Shave. A Statement” as seen on Harry’s Five O’Clock Mag:

Long before the invention of drones and chemical warfare, people had to defend themselves the old fashioned way, like, with hatchets and muskets and stuff. Which makes the war heroes of olden times all the more impressive. Battles were messy face-to-face affairs where the best mode of saving your hide wasn’t say, a tank, but a wiry and well-appointed horse.

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“Piecing It Together: Having It All, Means Not” on Lady Clever

Vintage_Family_Photo_9_by_spicorder_stockThe following is an excerpt from my piece “Piecing It Together: Having It All, Means Not” as seen on Lady Clever:

Three years ago I dated an ambitious young train wreck who, along with whispering creepy nothings into my ear into the wee hours of the morning, told me something unsettling that would keep me up at night long after the relationship had terminated: Either everything is going great with your career, or everything is going great with love; you can’t have both. (Given that he was crushing it in the career department at the time, I had to make the grim deduction that I was representative of a depressing love life. Guy really knew how to charm a girl.) Having immediately dismissed the comment as being the drunken musings of a sad and lonely man, I believed him to be wrong. And, with the optimism only a 26-year-old fresh off the boat to New York City after an LA-breakup could be capable of, I rebuked him. Nay, cynic! I argued. You can have it all! Dream it all! Be it all! Of course, I kept this naïve proclamation to myself, since his shifty eyes and chain-smoking proclivities scared me a little bit.

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“Inside Llewyn Davis: A Man’s Journey” on Lady Clever

134The following is an excerpt from my piece “Inside Llewyn Davis: A Man’s Journey” on Lady Clever:

We’re sitting at the bar talking about Inside Llewyn Davis, the Coen brother’s latest movie, nominated at last night’s Golden Globes’ for Best Motion Picture in the comedy/musical category. In my opinion, it’s a small and quiet film, and one that I liked in a measure it demanded — in a small and quiet way. But, despite critical acclaim pointing towards the contrary, I found Inside Llewyn Davis to be almost too small, so subtle and nuanced that its miniature details might sing in a different medium, a moralizing short story, perhaps, one filled with brooding internal dialogue, foreshadowing, and occasionally unrealistic coincidences that stretch the truth towards parable.

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“Chiharu Okunugi: From Nada to Prada” on The Style Con

Screen-Shot-2014-01-12-at-11.11.04-PM-1024x693The following is an excerpt from my regular series “From Nada to Prada” featuring Chiharu Okunugi as seen on The Style Con:

When an agency is really doing their job right, making sure all the nuts are bolted down, the career plans are in order, I don’t have shit to talk about there are simply no nada model moments on record. There are no failed test shoots, no DIY fashion shows in Bushwick basements, no documentation of offensive, wayward abuse of Sun-In. Yes, when this happens, as it very rarely does, an agency can make it magically appear as though a girl has simply fallen from the sky, preordained from the heavens to be strutting down catwalks wearing $5,000 Latex bikinis to the latest EDM soundtrack. This, my friends, is model magic.

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“I am the Real Hannah Horvath”… and other stories from the GIRLS premiere

BN-AZ777_GirlsH_G_20140107003941The following is an excerpt from my coverage on the GIRLS season 3 premiere as featured on Lady Clever, titled “I am the Real Hannah Horvath.”

“Is it fancy?” I asked my friend last night, trying to figure out what a layperson wears to a premiere. After Googling “GIRLS premiere season 2” as a frame of reference, it had become clear that celebrities wear things like Valentino jumpsuits. Despite evidence of at least partial fanciness, my friend tells me it’s not. Which is good, because I don’t have any Valentino jumpsuits on account of my having to pay for things like groceries and health insurance.

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