Rat Von P

Let me tell you a story about the one time I pissed off a D-list celebrity. Now to avoid any sort of Internet warfare, I will refer to this celebrity not by her real name but by a pseudonym. Let's  go with....Rat Von P.

To give some relevant context to this story, it is important to note that I am particularly devoted to the Instagram makeup community. Makeup is my primary hobby and Instagram is the ideal social media channel to learn about new products and techniques. Rat Von P has two popular accounts on Instagram: one for her personal self and the other for her professional makeup brand. I have always found Von P to be rather desperate and annoying. She seems like one of those women who heavily relies on the phrases "I prefer to hang out with guys" and "I'm not like most girls." I briefly followed her personal account but found it just about as unfulfilling as her actual life might be. I maintained a connection to her professional brand account because her makeup truly is phenomenal. Whichever chemists she hired to curate her products and then pretend she had a role in their creation are very talented. 

During a lapse in new product releases the account began to post boring stock photos with pedantic and uninspiring Von P quotes on them. Imagine a photo of a black and white rose with the words "I think oxygen is important" off center, or an abstract shot of shattered glass with the text "the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell." These are not the actual quotes but a sample of the caliber of statements that would be attributed to Von P. Her thousands of followers would practically wet themselves over the sublime brilliance of her perspective on existence and humanity. One day, after being plagued with far too many of these posts, I commented on one of the photos saying the account should knock it off because these photos were self-serving and irrelevant to the brand. A few hours later I received a reply from the moderators of the account (not Von P herself) stating that the unfollow button was in the upper right corner and I should use it. Duh. The "duh" was their touch, not mine. Feeling as though the response was disproportionate to the comment, I replied stating that I found their remark rude. I was promptly informed that they were going to block me, and they did. 

Later that evening I noticed that Von P was relatively active on Twitter so I decided to see if I could draw her attention to the rude behavior. After a series of five or so tweets directed at Von P regarding the incident, she took notice and engaged in what I like to refer to as the most unnecessary pissing match to have ever occurred. Von P remarked that "you are the one my moderators told me about" and that she didn't need my negativity or want me to purchase her makeup. Now, employing my favorite tactic to piss people off is remaining calm and composed, dangerously docile in comparison to their palpable anger, I cooly explained that her synopsis of the situation was rather reductive and inaccurate. I rarely encounter a "fight" worth participating in so I quite enjoy the art of gradual provocation disguised as genuine communication and understanding for the sake of eliciting an absurd and embarrassing response from the other party. Sure, it doesn't lead to resolve but it teaches others to never, ever, fuck with me. 

Von P finally wrapped up her angry tweets moments before I blocked her as the exchange was not gainful. To this day she is the only person I have blocked on social media. After her display of misplaced anger, I revisited her page to find she was still tweeting about me, as she could no longer tweet at me. Need I remind you this all began because of my perceived negativity...

Moral of the story: D-list celebrities have very fragile egos that malfunction when their irrelevant attitudes are addressed publicly. Therefore, you should always tap on the proverbial glass and see how long it takes for a social media meltdown to occur. In this case it was less than 8 hours. 

A Note on the VS Fashion Show

As many of you may know, the Victoria's Secret Fashion show filmed this evening and debuts on December 8th. Which means I am being proactive in addressing the body shaming and body policing bullshit.

First and foremost, calling the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show a "fashion show" is like saying Gigli is the pinnacle of cinema. The VS Fashion Show is as much about fashion as MTV is about music. VS sells bouncy boobies and cheeky bums set to popular live music performance once a year. Let's tell it like it is. That said, Victoria's Secret is a consumer brand in a capitalist market. They make a shitload of money off of over-priced bras and slightly less shameful looking sweatpants, and they are really good at it. Victoria's Secret sells an image and that image requires svelte bodies with curves in all the right places. That's their thing. That's what they sell. Furthermore, the extravagant winged body suits and capes that walk down that runway aren't exactly daily wear for anyone who isn't Batman. This should be common knowledge.

The VS Fashion Show models are some primo genetic specimens, that's undeniable. That said, the brand opts for whomever is (pop) culturally relevant at the time and can reel in the most TV views and Twitter mentions, hence their usage of Gigi Hadid and one of the ubiquitous Kardashian offspring. These aren't normal people. They live lives many of us will never understand or experience. Their existence and their bodies are nothing short of stellar but that doesn't give anyone the floor to body shame these models as a whole. I loathe Hadid and Kardashian #4 or #7 or whatever she is; they suck. BUT, their disappointing personalities and failures to contribute to society doesn't mean their collective bodies are up for critique. The same applies to everyone else on the fucking planet. This is probably the dumbest matter to even address. We are all massive sacks of skin, bacteria, bones, and fluids, just in different measurements and distributions. Therefore...I am going to stop everyone right fucking now before they break out the "real men like curves," "she looks anorexic," "eat a cheeseburger" comments. First, "real" men like whatever they want and unless you are talking about sentient mannequins then I have no idea what you mean by "real" and if sentient mannequins exist then we have far larger issues to address. Second, anorexia, bulimia, and other types of disordered eating are serious medical and mental health problems and not fodder to mask your personal insecurities. Third,  donuts are better than cheeseburgers and you don't know someone's food preferences you fascist.

The VS Fashion Show is for entertainment purposes only, just like the Super Bowl. Don't use these individuals as measures of your own self-worth or material for your unsolicited critiques. I shouldn't have to tell you not to be a dickhead, but here I am.

Snowy Bliss

I haven't blogged in a few months simply because I had run out of things to complain about. I'm not entirely sure how that is possible because on a daily basis 90% of my spoken vocabulary and 100% of my facial expressions are directly associated with things that piss me off. My last post seems to have been at the beginning of August and was all about how much I hate summer, therefore, it would seem quite appropriate that my first out-of-hiatus post be about how winter is infinitely more tolerable than its seasonal counterpart.

• Winter is all about being cozy, and that opportunity presents itself in many forms. First and most importantly, there is the option of clothing. There is a very strict and distinct limit to how much of my body I can expose in order to alleviate temperature discomfort in the summer. In the winter, though, the limit does not exist and I can put on infinite layers until my spine collapses underneath the weight of fuzzy sweaters. Additionally, winter clothes are far more attractive than summer clothes. The fabrics are better quality, the colors are more appealing, and there is more to cover. In summer its all about nylon, spandex, sweat stains, and pretending your shorts aren't lodged in your colon.
• During the winter everyone is cold and wants to minimize the amount of time they are exposed to wind, snow, ice, sleet, and otherwise aggressively low temperatures. I find this particularly satisfying because it also minimizes anyone's inclination to stop and talk with me. I can gleefully ignore others and not feel the least bit of remorse, as our conversation avoidance is really doing them a favor. 
• Honestly, that last point is so important to me that it should also be recognized in this point.
• My makeup prowess isn't questioned in the winter as it is in the summer. In the summer my makeup melts off my face like some sort of Barbie meets Easy Bake Oven experiment. In the winter my makeup is frozen to my face, maintaining its integrity.
• Winter food is fucking amazing. There are so many cold weather holidays to celebrate and no one cares if you get fat, they only care that you are slightly more corpulent than them. First we start with Halloween and its surplus of boss ass candy. Then we wobble into Thanksgiving which is a celebration of comfort food (except pumpkin pie because that shit is nasty and should be banned). Then we roll right in to Christmas which is basically Thanksgiving Part 2 with Presents. Finally, we cap it off with New Years Eve which is the birthday party for hors d'oeuvres. And every other day in between is intended to be filled with creamy soups, sugary baked goods, and anything else that will expedite your pending cardiac arrest. 
• Perhaps one of my favorite parts of winter is the extended darkness and overall dreariness. I love lying in bed all day without pants and void of all human interaction. No one expects me to participate in social niceties like they do in the summer.