ich liebe your mom?

dear marc,

i don’t know if this letter will reach you, because i’m sitting in a starbucks leaching internet and for some reason EVERYTHING is in german? i don’t know. i’ll make this quick——-
britney didn’t happen. i’m so pissed/not really. here’s the story: i went out with some co-workers, got waste case and then realized it was 2 AM and JUST couldn’t get my ass to heaven to see the queen of skank and her jiggly boobies. AND THANK GOD, because bitch didn’t even show. i bet there were so many disappointed gays, with their mascara and coke noses running all over the place. not a dry eye or anus in the house. poor them.
marc, have you heard of this chick little boots? she’s getting pretty big over here and perhaps you should google/iTunes her because i KNOW the bitch. here we are together:
okay, i don’t look too cute, but ISN’T SHE ADORABLE? we hung out one night, a friend of a friend situation. i’m sure you know them well. anyway, she’s going to be huge so start listening NOW before she becomes cliche. aren’t you so proud of my networking? you’ll need someone with ties to the music industry when you’re choosing models for next season so people will think that YOU listen to good music and will want to buy your product. just saying…
oh here’s a better picture:
yeah, much better. that’s such a good angle for my body. PECS!
oh my god this starbucks man has such a sweaty back. ew.
anyway, love your tits.
call me.
xx

FREE PRESS. LIKE, TOTALLY

dear marc,

this has been a pretty low-key week. i partied it up with my fellow REISS employees for our supervisor’s sad departure from the great flagship store on barrett street. don’t worry, marc, i kept it all in my pants and my tummy. i managed to down a whole bottle of red wine and two pints of beck’s without vomming or ending up on aga’s couch. AND i even made it to work at 8 AM the next morning. are you so proud? it’s like i’m becoming a real person, or something. unless you don’t like hiring real people to be in your ads. if that’s the case, continue to consider me a mythical drunk vixen with nothing to give except a fierce pose and maybe a sassy remark. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?
the real news of the week just kind of sprung up last night. david and i were re-kindling our friendship in a soho bar when i got uncomfortable with the way david was staring at some 12-year-old farmhand. i picked up the latest issue of OUT in the city magazine when i stumbled upon some party pics from the beloved trannyshack night at soho revue bar…
here’s the spread:
yes, i know all those trannies and even got kissed by justin bond on that very night. and YES, i realise this is a shitty photo, but baby can’t afford a scanner so…
okay, now let’s take a closer, burier look at this fine piece of photojournalism, because i think there’s something you might really want to see when considering who to put in any upcoming ads…
THERE. right there, under that pirate tranny hooker’s elbow and that seemingly straight guy’s beer bottle. do you see? IT’S ME. well, my left ear, anyway. i know you think i’m reaching, but any press is good press. this also proves that i am SO recognizable that not even a fat, one-eyed, man-bitch squeezed into a fishnet jumpsuit can upstage me or my ears.
WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED? clearly i can’t think of anything.
okay, if i don’t write you before next week, have a fab thanksgiving for me. is it weird that i feel kind of sad that i won’t be able to gorge on my mom’s delicious tofurkey and watch old episodes of the OC for 2 days? i’m sure i’ll get over it. it’s probably best anyway. remember, girl: a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.
stay pretty. i’m serious.
xx

just a quickie

dear marc,

this is going to be a quickie update. imagine this update to be on par with that time you were horny at your friend’s party and banged some B+ bystander on the laundry machine, just to clear the pipes. that’s this update.
reiss is going well. this week i have 2 things that you should look forward to hearing about: first, my store is having an event with GRAZIA magazine, which means a lot of drunk kind-of-celebrities and me getting yelled at for being drunk when i’m supposed to be working.
also, i get to preview the spring/summer ’09 line in david reiss’ penthouse. when i get there, they MIGHT JUST SNATCH ME UP and ask to be apart of their ad campaign, so you better step it up, be a man, and call me. i don’t know HOW you’re going to resist any longer once you see these:
okay, i think these clearly demonstrate my ability to style a shoot, because that outfit is RAGIN’. i know i kind of look like a witch in the second one, but you can LITERALLY see the swivel in my hips in the first one. i don’t think yellow tail wine could find a better ad campaign. god knows i’m gonna be buying more.
okay, this update is a little longer than i expected. it’s like, now you’ve banged the B+ and they want your number and you’re all, ‘god shut up, i just want some cheese and crackers. or to bang again.’
awkwaaaaard.
xx

fine craftsmanship

dear marc,

i’m sorry for not writing you lately, but who the fuck knew retail was SUCH a time consumer? i just hope you appreciate how hard your people work for you, marc. here are some things i’m getting tired of saying every day at reiss:
oh, that’s such a good color on you.
sure, wear it however you like.
can i put these in a fitting room for you?
sir, could you please pull your pants up, i’m getting uncomfortable.
sorry henry, i’m just really hung over. i swear i’ll be better tomorrow.
speaking of hung over, i often stumble into reiss with my hair a mess and tranny lipstick on my cheek, which usually means they throw me in the basement to fold shirts until i’m sober enough to deal with customers. i’d say i’m downstairs folding and organizing about 1/2 of the day, which is fine. it really gives me the chance to work with the garments and makes me appreciate their fine, chinese stitching. when a little asian girl is being raped on a conveyor belt by her supervisor and thinking, ‘god i just want to get back to sewing, i hope people appreciate my work,’ i can finally say back, ‘i do, honey. stay strong and keep that cross-stiching FIERCE.’
all the running up and down stairs i do every day is really helping with my modeling, marc. it’s toning my ass up nicely and really helping with my action poses. take a gander at this tasty lick:
the recipe for this photo is as follows:
2 parts cigarette ad
1 part marc jacobs ad
2 tsps of vintage 90210
1 tbsp homeless outreach flyer
and a dash of pro-choice pamphlet
LOVE IT.
okay marc, hopefully i’ll be able to write you soon. until then, stay thin and get legal to write me up a contract for your spring/summer ’09 campaign. hell, i’ll even model for your fragrance line.
xoxo
oh, PS, the bangle and bag in that photo were donations from the marble arch foundation for fierce skanks. thanks bitch.

it was a shitbox

dear marc,

WELL, it seems i’m no longer a struggling model trying to make a name for herself. I HAVE A JOB at reiss, a fashionable clothing store for the up-and-coming young man or lady. and i swear to god i’m keeping it this time. and really i did it on my own merits, with no help from you, so thank you for being an asshole, you fuckface twat. or maybe it was because of you? henry DID say he interned at marc by marc jacobs when he was in school… okay, sorry for yelling at you. i understand now that he actually called you up and was like, ‘marc, this guy? what do i do? cheers bye.’ and clearly you said one thing, ‘fabulous’ and i got the job. well i didn’t just GET the job, there was a 4 hour challenge of body, mind, and fierceness involved which i totally owned. honestly, if 10 more people had been around doing the same thing, it would have been a reality TV show where the person who could pick out the best outfits and re-organize the suit department the fastest would get to be king/queen of stylists for a day, or something gay like that. god that sounds really gay. so gay. i CLEARLY would have been that guy in corner screaming like a bitch just because i could. but of course, you already knew all this, marc. so gay.
and i guess you don’t really have to hire me now until february when you start promoting your spring line. it’s probably for the best because i haven’t really been on my A-game lately. case in point: 

like, seriously? what is this, faggot of the opera? just terrible. i’m so sorry, marc. i’m so sorry. you do have to admit that my pout is FEROCIOUS and those lips are so puffy, like i just had collagen hosed into them. maybe it’s not the worst picture. god i’m creaming just looking at those lips again.
i have to go, i’m only allowed to wear black for the next 3 weeks so i need to find some stuff.
xoxo
oh PS apparently someone famous took our picture last night at the CSS concert? i don’t know, he’s some british TV presenter. all i’m really getting at is that i’m above everyone else now.

plea # 6

dear marc,

i still don’t have a job and actually i’m downgrading my living arrangements to a hostel because girl this shit’s EXPENSIVE. i’m pretty sure it will be one in notting hill, which is good because it’s super cute and MUCH SAFER than this car-bomby, knife-stabby hell hole i’m in now. jesus i hate this place. i applied to be personal stylist at banana republic yesterday, so if you have any pull there you MIGHT want to use it, you bastard. oh, i hung out with a few famous people this weekend, mainly MY MODEL TWIN AND YOUR MUSE, cole mohr:

yeah, he was at soho revue bar. clearly i could perform just as well IF NOT BETTER than him in an ad. exhibits A & B:

fIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIerce. it’s like we’re LITERALLY the same person. except i have better legs.
i also got pushed in the face by that tranny slut jodie harsh’s bodyguard THREE TIMES. jodie, if you’re reading this, FUCK YOU. why do you even NEED a bodyguard? you’re not even that cute/famous. marc, tell jodie she can fuck herself for being an elitist cooze. here’s a lovely shot of me from punk, and just another reason you should put me in an ad. i would def fill out that dress better than cole:

clearly this photo says the following:
1. i will lift a total stranger’s dress to get the perfect shot of her sweaty lady briefs.
2. SKINNSIES
3. i work well with others while still keeping the focus on ME ME ME ME ME.
4. what i lack in physical beauty i make up for in stylish headwear.
okay well continue to wish me luck on my job hunt. I KNOW I KNOW, i never should have quit that other job BUT WHATEVER. it’s my life, marc. IT’S MY LIFE.
hire me.
xx
oh PS. i saw cillian murphy in soho today. scott and i followed him for about 10 minutes until he caught wise and ran into a crowd on oxford street. that’s okay cillian, one day I’LL be running from YOU.
xoxo,
your future muse

you FOOL

dear marc,

today i was snatched up by another mark. yes, marc, i am employed. as a PA to mark williams-ellis at limehouse designs. mostly i go to flats he’s renting to people and clean them (burning calories!) and then make lots of copies at the office. but don’t worry, i only work 4 days a week so if you’re looking for a model on fridays… clear
ly i’m available. let’s look at some facts about my new boss at limehouse designs and see why i’m going to stick out this shitty, ‘can you make me some copies’ job:
*he’s so british that even when he’s calling me an idiot for not understanding how the gate works, i still smile.
*he has two cards sitting around the office. one from a ‘woman’ named edwina thanking him for a good saturday night, and another from leigh saying something about ‘i’ll still become naughty claire?’ the BEST part is that both cards have the same handwriting… which leads me to believe that these are his alter egos and/or he’s trying to boost his morale/impress me by trying to look popular.
*he has a file on my computer titled ‘tenant v-cards,’ which clearly means he only rents flats to sexually confused 20-somethings, seduces them with his leigh/edwina/naughty claire persona and proceeds to steal and document their innocence.
*he keeps a lot of pictures of himself around the office…like a stack of photos of him standing on a balcony?
*he kind of smells like a wet dog?
*i think he’s lusting after his cleaning lady. i looked over at him once he was just kind of staring at her with this dreamy, far off look in his eyes. i wonder if he ever comes up behind her while she’s wiping off a cabinet and smells her hair. i bet mark would do that.
OH. look at this hot photo of me with three trannies. i spent 40 pounds on that cardigan that i’m wearing and i think it just paid for itself:
omg i’m CREAMING. look at those shoulders. and that blank stare? models practice for years before they can get that on one try. you better call me soon marc, i hear vivienne westwood is trying to get to me…
xx

Plea #4

dear marc,

today you should hire me because i’m still jobless and desperate and roaming the streets of london. the silver lining in all this is that i regularly attend FABULOUS parties (compliments of my new friends who work at some management thing and have connections out the assssssshole) and get photographed with/by random fabulous people being fabulously fabulous. fabulous. here’s one party pic:
okay, i know i look 43 in the face, but the body is karate and i look 6’3″. i also think i have several pictures on two websites where i’m holding a sign that says, ‘you should get paid to pout.’ MARC, i’m clearly wanted. put me in a fucking ad.
i’m going to visit janet tomorrow to get my hair cut. YES MARC, JANET. YOU can’t even get into her sassy clutches. be jealous.
xx

Plea #3

>Dear Marc Jacobs,

hire me for this picture alone. it clearly says, ‘i’m flexible and willing to exploit it because i don’t know what i’m selling in this ad and my gumby legs are all i have in this business.’ and also because i threw a party and no one came and i got too drunk and almost threw up in a cab. also, i really hate little pakistan. my room ALWAYS SMELLS LIKE CURRY and maggie LITERALLY has a stalker. every time i walk through the neighborhood and see men with beards wearing fabulously floaty robes and little kids beating each other with sticks and old car parts, i feel like i’m in baghdad and about to jihad my life. but marc, my room looks FILTHY DELICIOUS and you should come by and see it while you’re asking me to model for you. also, i think i smoked 2 1/2 packs of cigs last night. and the rest was… well you know.
hire me. i deserve better than this, let’s face facts.
xx