Being a Socialite is Exhausting Work

Apple girl, Met Gala, Guggenheim Young Collectors Council, the list goes on...

Am I the only one who feels like everyone and their mother is in Japan right now? Did I miss a travel-pact memo where we all decided to take May trips out east, and get all our spring/summer shopping done in Shibuya, and curb our noodle cravings in Kyoto? I would have liked the invite! Rather, I would have LOVED an all-expense-paid itinerary in my inbox, like the influencers who recently spent a week there with M.A.C. got. I was actually invited by my best friend Maude, who is there currently for her 26th birthday, but a spontaneous trip around the world (on my own dime) simply isn’t in the cards for me this year! If you’ve read my monthly musings here, you’d know I’ve been climbing out of tax-induced financial trenches, and just 4 months ago I was afraid to fly to New York alone. It’s wildly amazing to realize that I’m currently eager to travel!

I also finally turned 26 last month. I say finally because this was a dreaded moment for me these past 6 months, and I’m pleased to let everyone know, it’s not that bad so far! Certainly not as dreadful as I made it out to be. However, now that I’ve made it past my first quarter-century, I’ve entered quite the perplexing transitional state of being. As a 26 year old, I am apparently past my prime within my workforce. As teenagers creep their way onto the runway and into magazine folds, now is supposedly the time I am expected to make moves and changes in my career, or instead find a wealthy man to settle down with. How Bridgerton of me. Most models at this age (excluding those of nepo-experience or supermodeldom) have either given up on their dreams of making it in fashion, going back to school instead to chase careers offering more stability, or they’ve begun branching out, launching businesses of their own. The rest have moved away start a family with their bread-winning counterparts, leaving careers and city-life behind.

Where does that leave me—a fashion loving, ride-or-die city girl? Albeit my complaints, I am not ready to retire! My favorite days are ones spent on a large scale production, surrounded by other creatives, sharing a goal of making a vision come to life. I will have to be forced to retire modeling, because I’ll never call it quits, but I am coming to accept the shift in my career; to being on set less often, and my work schedule looking very different. Most of my work is digital these days, and lives on social media. My obligations as of late are attending events, museum galas, concerts, fashion soirées, cocktail parties, the works. I am beginning to feel like more of a socialite than a creative or model, which is saying a lot for a girl with anxiety! You’d think with my current schedule, I’d be meeting suitors left and right, opting for the path of marrying for-money and fleeing fashion, but nope! I actually think dating might be a thing of the past. Do people even ask each other out anymore? Or is getting an Instagram handle simply enough nowadays?

This lifestyle is heightening my need to create, my need to work. I am unfulfilled by attending events. I’m not making money being there, rarely am I networking to secure my next gig, and not once have I been asked out at a brand event. Most nights are comprised of the same guest list, so I’m just seeing my clouted influencer friends every night of the week, one night at Guggenheim, the next at Miu Miu, Wednesday for Urban Outfitters. It’s a bit monotonous and reminds me why I left Los Angeles. PR friends, if you’re reading, consider this my official request for an uptick in invites for fresh creative professionals, as well as single and employed straight men!

My drive to be social and to leave the house has returned. I’m working more. Not as much as I would like, but enough to keep me from existential dread. I’m feeling more present in all aspects of my life. My birthday itself was very sweet. My best friend Maude came to New York from LA to visit me. We went to the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. That night, Allie cooked us a mouth-watering steak dinner, complete with frites and sauce au-poivre. That weekend, I gathered friends at a Clinton Hill bar where we played bingo and told stories into the early hours of the morning.

Post birthday, Charli XCX was in New York and performed for 4 sold-out nights at Barclay’s Center, leading up to Met Gala Monday. I went as her guest to night 1 and as usual, she did not disappoint. As she finished off her year long Brat tour, she made a dream of mine come true by having my friend Sophia and I be her apple girls; doing Kelley Heyer’s choreography on the Jumbotron in front of the sold-out stadium. Now among the likes of Richie Shazam, Bowen Yang, and Troye Sivan, I too was the apple girl! Nerve-wracking, but in the most exhilarating way! Friends I hadn’t seen in nearly a decade we’re texting me from the pit, “I just saw you! OMG I’m here too!” Ella of 6 months ago couldn’t attend a concert, let alone dance her heart out on the big screen! That’s on introspective work and personal growth y’all… Chase those dreams!

The first Monday in May was the Met Gala. I struggle with wrapping my head around what the event has grown into, but I admire Anna Wintour and the museum’s Costume Institute for keeping the night about fashion. As someone who has been around the gala for many years, but never invited inside, I’ve grown to see the event as the final boss in the hierarchy of clout. Who’s invited versus who’s paying for their seat? Who are you being dressed by? Who’s on your glam squad and are you getting coverage from Vogue? As an outsider, it feels superfluous to bother myself with these things, but that hasn’t stopped me from finding myself on the coattails of this stress from those around me. Which brings me to my place in all of this, the after parties!

Becoming somewhat of a digital socialite, the après met is not a foreign space to me. In 2020, I attended Balenciaga’s September (covid) Met afters, where Justin Bieber performed for an intimate crowd… Possibly the best night of my life, so very little can hold a candle to that. The last four years, I was in Los Angeles most of May, so being invited by jeweler Guzema, I knew this was my resurgence in this elite chic arena. I needed to look major. I enlisted sister doll, Parker MJ Foubert to style me, and we got to work, doing outreach for garment loans. We landed on a sheer white crepey gown by up-and-coming black designer, Kingsley. I wore my own Prada heels, and did my own hair and makeup. My bag was a Luar loan from Emcee Studios. It takes a village! I can’t imagine being a celebrity with a team of 12 prepping me for this night, and maybe that’s why I’m not one!

I’ve been vlogging (video blogging) for my YouTube again, and for Reels and TikTok. It’s partially why I’ve been writing here less. I’m spreading myself so thin between every possible outlet. But apparently that’s what you have to do these days to be somebody, at least that’s what I’m told. I vlogged an incredible adventure on April 22nd, but my day ended with losing my camera! I spent the entire following day retracing my steps only to come home empty handed. Whoever has my Sony out there, I’d love the footage from Milk Makeup’s Earth Day gardening class, and from Amalia Ulman’s screening of Magic Farm at the Roxy! In an effort to replace my equipment, I’ve even restarted my Depop, clearing out my closet, trying to save up for a new camera, but it’s the lost footage that really mattered most.

Along with turning 26 and my career changing, so did my health insurance, and I said goodbye to the therapist I’ve worked with since I was 19. It was a bittersweet goodbye, but I know this big life change will encourage growth within me. Moving beyond the past 7 years of work on my mental health, I’m now free to explore what else is out there and what other methods may work for me! Sadly, my options for healthcare providers are BLEAK on my new insurance. I did manage to get an appointment at Callen Lorde this past week, and it was so promising to be seen in a trans-centric healthcare center for the first time since my childhood. However, the therapists there are overbooked, with waitlists out the wazoo. Luckily my new PCP can still refill my SSRIs, beta-blockers and hormones, while I speed-date the short list of in-network therapists and psychiatrists currently available to me.

In other news, I am admittedly embarrassed that this newsletter has staked its claim on the back burner in recent weeks/months. I had such a laundry list of tasks to put in motion, in an effort to get my life ‘back on track,’ that my goal of writing to you weekly, quickly slipped away into these monthly musings. But I’m happy to report that my hard work is beginning to pay off, quite literally, as I seek stability from the place the IRS left me in.

This week I sent off my final draft for my second installment of my column at Cosmo, “Ella in the City.” Pause for applause. Name reveal, yes!!! In this installment, I dive into dating anxiety, and my desire to date, even in the trenches of my agoraphobia. It’s honest, raw, and I hope it resonates with readers out there. The process of writing for Cosmo is great fun, but I’ve learned it takes time! I love having professional editors. I pitch my ideas to them, they get approval from Willa [Bennett, EIC] and then I write! We go through a couple rounds of edits—this takes me back to high school and getting papers passed back covered in red ink, but nothing feels as rewarding as seeing your byline published!

All of this to say, I am exceedingly exhausted! I’ve gone from an in-bed-by-10PM lifestyle to being a girl who is outside! A true social butterfly! New York is changing me! I grind! Hopefully all of these appearances, and dressing up in all these lewks will turn into an actual job or two…? One that pays (well) I hope! In the meantime, I will continue to show face and remind the world I’m not going anywhere!

Until next time,

xoxo,

Ella

but at least I look gooooooooood <3