Skylines, Subways and Press Releases |
My parents and I cleaned out our bank accounts to get me to New York so that I can pursue my dream of becoming an adorable, yet fiercely intimidating, music/fashion publicist and/or journalist with a heart of gold.
So far it's a tale of an empty studio apartment, two unpacked suitcases, a confusing underground transit system, an insane obsession with Skype, and the anxiety of waiting for several care packages in the mail that contain the rest of my shoe collection. Soon, I hope to transform it into a tale of an enormous loft with a glittery staircase, numerous walk-in closets, an influx of emails from the media on my blackberry, my town car driver being late and dealing with everyday critical decisions of whether or not to wear the cerulean blue Christian Louboutin satin pumps on New Years Eve, or the black leather studded Alexander McQueen ankle boots on a Thursday. I signed the lease, booked a one-way ticket, hailed my first cab, opened the door and rolled my two suitcases into a new empty apartment. This is where the comfort and structure that once made life complacent ends, and the fear, perseverance and excitement begin. #SIDENOTE: In the spirit of privacy and concealing identities, I have given my friends aliases in the form of precious drag queen names. PERFECT. #CONTACT: erika9899 at gmail dot com |
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![FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:
February 8, 2010
Dressing To Impress, Meeting RuPaul & Sprinkling Sangria In Between
(New York, NY) — Let me start off by saying that I felt very PR Journalist earlier this week walking down Broadway Avenue clutching my laptop with my left arm, talking on the phone with my left hand and juggling the wobbling Starbucks cup that I stacked on top of my Whole Foods box with my right.
To get the full effect. My color scheme from head-to-toe was black. A black wool BCBG trench coat with black leather sleeves (to add a little edge to the class). The accessories consisted of a black leather Michael Kors satchel (currently obsessing over), black leather gloves with a hint of suede, black sunglasses, black leopard print Betsey Johnson earrings, a black satin scarf and black pumps. My hair was on point and my bangs were flowing ever so perfectly with the cold breeze. UGH. PERFECT. SEVERE. DONE. BYE. Had there been paparazzi, they would have gotten their money shot.
The look definitely didn’t match the lifestyle which holds the irony to the story. It looked like I had 852 clients conference calling me at once on my phone from Milan, LA, Miami, Dallas and Paris, but it was really just my mother calling me to ask if I had seen the Dateline NBC special about the girl who was kidnapped in NYC after someone spiked her drink at dinner. It looked like I was drinking expensive VIP mega-latte-superbig-frenti-whatever-it’s-called sized coffee because I was exhausted from writing all those feature stories for Rolling Stone and Vogue the night before, but really, it was a water-filled cup a Starbucks employee gave me after I walked into his coffee shop panting and wheezing asking for directions since I was SO OVER walking around aimlessly trying to find the correct subway stop. I’ve come to realize, that if you just LOOK the part, people will think you are important and that you own the world. Who needs a PR job when you can just dress like one! Speaking of playing dress-up…
# BREAKING NEWS: I finally met RuPaul at his book signing! My friend and I anxiously waited in line for about 2 hours. I would get sudden bursts of elation when I heard RuPaul’s loud laugh as I edged closer. A torrent of questions and comments were going through my mind: things I wanted to say, little cute things I wanted to do, the correct way to approach him, the most adorable way to hold the book, how I was going to get him to be my friend…basically, I was preparing myself for the big finale. The night before, I had prepared my lines with Sinatra SKYY in our rendition of When Erika Meets RuPaul. Sinatra SKYY’s role, RuPaul. Mine, the crazy fan with big hair. The role playing, the coaching, all the things I was supposed to say were quickly abandoned when it was my friend and I’s turn to walk up and meet RuPaul.
ACT I Scene I: The Beginning of a Friendship
Me and my friend: “Ru! Haaaaaay!!”
(He gasps and smiles as he watches us walk towards him)
RuPaul: “Oh my Gosh! What GOOORGEOUS children!”
(My friend and I smile, freak out, laugh, and try to keep it together.)
ACT 2 Scene 5: The Final Act
Everything was so abrupt and it all happened so fast, much like my description of it in this blog. It was like me speaking to someone immortal in a big, dragtastic, my-fake-lashes-are-stuck-together-and-there’s-sequins-in-my-eyes type of drunken blur. I do remember that my friend and I were apparently so energetic he asked if we were cheerleaders. We came and went into his life pretty quick, however, judging by what he signed in my book: “[you’re] a Glitter Explosion”
I believe we made a long-standing impression. We most definitely BLEW RUPAUL’S WIG OFF.
END SCENE
I made a pretty little new friend who we will call Captain Belle (a recently relocated Southern Belle from Texas that moved to Manhattan for her job. SEE ALSO: works in the corporate office at Anonymous Airlines and deals with cute airline captains and pretty-faced gay flight attendants all day, everyday). It was so great to get to know her, establish a friendship, talk for hours and have a RIDICULOUSLY cheap happy hour at a swanky, dark-lit Moroccan themed bar in the lower east side of Manhattan. We had TWO pitchers of Sangria, meaning one pitcher per Southern Belle, for $15 a person. This is very random but they gave us all-we-can-eat buttery popcorn to go with our Sangria. Necessary? Not really. Does it fill up our tummies, increase our tolerance and make us drink more Sangria? ABSOLUTELY.
I walked by an Alexander McQueen store in the Chelsea district on W14th and I would be lying if I said I didn’t stop dead in my tracks in front of everyone and say “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING. OH MUH’ GAWD!” Needless to say, no one wanted to speak to the cool girl having a fashion Turrets attack. I passed by it on my way to the XEX Magazine Party. I went in order to effectively network, with the help of a semi-open bar and 2-4-1 drink specials that would make my whiskey-loving friend Jacklynne Cleave blush, I believe that I did.
Strutting Black Leather Coats To A Severe Degree in NYC,
-erika
listening to: my stomach grumbling, my mom and dad on speakerphone aimlessly rambling to each other about the difference between sticking bananas in the fridge or leaving them outside and “Starlight” by Muse
feeling: hungry and excited to finally eat a good meal of tuna AND avocado once I get off the phone with my parents!
missing: Momma and Poppa Fierce, certain friendships and the ability to drink purified water.
<3](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l7ktdjRZ9Q1qal3nbo1_500.jpg)
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:
February 8, 2010
Dressing To Impress, Meeting RuPaul & Sprinkling Sangria In Between
(New York, NY) — Let me start off by saying that I felt very PR Journalist earlier this week walking down Broadway Avenue clutching my laptop with my left arm, talking on the phone with my left hand and juggling the wobbling Starbucks cup that I stacked on top of my Whole Foods box with my right.
To get the full effect. My color scheme from head-to-toe was black. A black wool BCBG trench coat with black leather sleeves (to add a little edge to the class). The accessories consisted of a black leather Michael Kors satchel (currently obsessing over), black leather gloves with a hint of suede, black sunglasses, black leopard print Betsey Johnson earrings, a black satin scarf and black pumps. My hair was on point and my bangs were flowing ever so perfectly with the cold breeze. UGH. PERFECT. SEVERE. DONE. BYE. Had there been paparazzi, they would have gotten their money shot.
The look definitely didn’t match the lifestyle which holds the irony to the story. It looked like I had 852 clients conference calling me at once on my phone from Milan, LA, Miami, Dallas and Paris, but it was really just my mother calling me to ask if I had seen the Dateline NBC special about the girl who was kidnapped in NYC after someone spiked her drink at dinner. It looked like I was drinking expensive VIP mega-latte-superbig-frenti-whatever-it’s-called sized coffee because I was exhausted from writing all those feature stories for Rolling Stone and Vogue the night before, but really, it was a water-filled cup a Starbucks employee gave me after I walked into his coffee shop panting and wheezing asking for directions since I was SO OVER walking around aimlessly trying to find the correct subway stop. I’ve come to realize, that if you just LOOK the part, people will think you are important and that you own the world. Who needs a PR job when you can just dress like one! Speaking of playing dress-up…
# BREAKING NEWS: I finally met RuPaul at his book signing! My friend and I anxiously waited in line for about 2 hours. I would get sudden bursts of elation when I heard RuPaul’s loud laugh as I edged closer. A torrent of questions and comments were going through my mind: things I wanted to say, little cute things I wanted to do, the correct way to approach him, the most adorable way to hold the book, how I was going to get him to be my friend…basically, I was preparing myself for the big finale. The night before, I had prepared my lines with Sinatra SKYY in our rendition of When Erika Meets RuPaul. Sinatra SKYY’s role, RuPaul. Mine, the crazy fan with big hair. The role playing, the coaching, all the things I was supposed to say were quickly abandoned when it was my friend and I’s turn to walk up and meet RuPaul.
ACT I Scene I: The Beginning of a Friendship
Me and my friend: “Ru! Haaaaaay!!”
(He gasps and smiles as he watches us walk towards him)
RuPaul: “Oh my Gosh! What GOOORGEOUS children!”
(My friend and I smile, freak out, laugh, and try to keep it together.)
ACT 2 Scene 5: The Final Act
Everything was so abrupt and it all happened so fast, much like my description of it in this blog. It was like me speaking to someone immortal in a big, dragtastic, my-fake-lashes-are-stuck-together-and-there’s-sequins-in-my-eyes type of drunken blur. I do remember that my friend and I were apparently so energetic he asked if we were cheerleaders. We came and went into his life pretty quick, however, judging by what he signed in my book: “[you’re] a Glitter Explosion”
I believe we made a long-standing impression. We most definitely BLEW RUPAUL’S WIG OFF.
END SCENE
I made a pretty little new friend who we will call Captain Belle (a recently relocated Southern Belle from Texas that moved to Manhattan for her job. SEE ALSO: works in the corporate office at Anonymous Airlines and deals with cute airline captains and pretty-faced gay flight attendants all day, everyday). It was so great to get to know her, establish a friendship, talk for hours and have a RIDICULOUSLY cheap happy hour at a swanky, dark-lit Moroccan themed bar in the lower east side of Manhattan. We had TWO pitchers of Sangria, meaning one pitcher per Southern Belle, for $15 a person. This is very random but they gave us all-we-can-eat buttery popcorn to go with our Sangria. Necessary? Not really. Does it fill up our tummies, increase our tolerance and make us drink more Sangria? ABSOLUTELY.
I walked by an Alexander McQueen store in the Chelsea district on W14th and I would be lying if I said I didn’t stop dead in my tracks in front of everyone and say “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING. OH MUH’ GAWD!” Needless to say, no one wanted to speak to the cool girl having a fashion Turrets attack. I passed by it on my way to the XEX Magazine Party. I went in order to effectively network, with the help of a semi-open bar and 2-4-1 drink specials that would make my whiskey-loving friend Jacklynne Cleave blush, I believe that I did.
Strutting Black Leather Coats To A Severe Degree in NYC,
-erika
listening to: my stomach grumbling, my mom and dad on speakerphone aimlessly rambling to each other about the difference between sticking bananas in the fridge or leaving them outside and “Starlight” by Muse
feeling: hungry and excited to finally eat a good meal of tuna AND avocado once I get off the phone with my parents!
missing: Momma and Poppa Fierce, certain friendships and the ability to drink purified water.
<3
