You Don't Look Fat, You Look Crazy

by Ashley Longshore

I’ve done enough highbrow shit; I’ve spent enough time at the Delano in Miami and Le Meurice in Paris to know that most of the shit you think is going to be fucking awesome ain’t nothing but a fucking douchebag convention.

  F

  FEAR

  Fear is good. (Greed, not so good. Times have changed.) I look back at the girl I was in Montana, twenty years ago now, and I realize I haven’t changed that much. I’m still trying to find my way, still fearful, but I’m okay with it. I don’t pretend I’m not afraid anymore. When you stop pretending, you have a lot more energy for life. Fear is a great catalyst for action, much better than revenge. When you confront your own fear, the world is at your fingertips. Sometimes the only one stopping you is yourself.

  FEARLESS WOMEN

  I love to paint women who inspire me with their beauty and strength. I have a whole series of Audrey Hepburn paintings, because to me she’s the epitome of elegance. I’ve got Kate Moss in a nunnery. I’ve got Frida Kahlo looking as unfathomable as ever. I’ve got Beyoncé covered in flowers and birds, because she is so creatively inspiring, as a mother, a woman, and an artist, and I love her energy.

  I love fearless women. Beautiful women. Confident women. I love women who know that at the end of the day, they’re going to be a day older, and that they need to take advantage of every fucking minute. That’s inspiring. To milk the hell out of life. That kind of passion and energy is what makes a woman beautiful. But it helps to be born with the right bone structure, too.

  FEAR IS A GREAT CATALYST FOR ACTION, MUCH BETTER THAN REVENGE. WHEN YOU CONFRONT YOUR OWN FEAR, THE WORLD IS AT YOUR FINGERTIPS. SOMETIMES THE ONLY ONE STOPPING YOU IS YOURSELF.

  FEMALE MAINTENANCE

  Here’s the thing: Even after putting in a thirteen-hour day of meetings, calls, and painting, there’s shit I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to do cardio, I’m supposed to do yoga, I’m supposed to meditate, I’m supposed to get a fucking massage, I’m supposed to get lash extensions, get my mustache waxed, my chin waxed, my armpits lasered, get a fucking Brazilian so my pussy looks like it’s smiling (from the side, anyway), shave my fucking legs, get manicured and fucking pedicured. AND, I’m supposed to do all of this and still have time to give my man a blowjob and have dinner with my friends. On second thought, no. Forget it. It’s too exhausting. That’s a full-time job in and of itself. Maybe I’ll skip it today . . .

  Once, I tried to take a shortcut, and I got a chemical burn from Nair. I was on my way to Jamaica and hadn’t had time to get a wax, and I was like, Jesus Christ, I can’t go down to Jamaica with fucking steel wool hanging out, looking like I have a tennis ball in my suit (you know, when your muff gets smashed down and it looks like a tennis ball?). So I was like, Fuck it, I’ll get some Nair, and I was immediately like, Goddamn, this hurts. It literally removed all my skin down there, I was walking like Redd Fox, bowlegged, for days.

  But fuck it, because here’s the thing: When you find the right man who loves you, he ain’t gonna turn it down, even when you’ve got a chemical burn.

  FRIENDSHIP

  I’m not into that whole Leo Buscaglia greeting-card bullshit (“A single rose can be my garden . . . a single friend, my world”), but I know this much: If you’re not laughing, you need better friends.

  “FUCK THE GARDEN CLUB”

  I’m so mesmerized by the idea of making planting flowers bitchy. These women have taken something as simple as planting ferns and made it a cunt-fest. Only upper-crust white women have the opportunity to do something like that. Is the Garden Club really about gardening? I don’t know what the fuck it’s about. There are women who are devastated to not be in the Garden Club, and I’m like, “Are you shitting me?! Do you really care about plants that much?!” Obviously not.

  G

  “THE GOLDEN HOE”

  This is about being a much bigger hoe than the average ho. It’s the Garden Club exposed. The Golden Hoe drives a range rover or a Mercedes SVU. The Golden Hoe wouldn’t be seen dead without a pair of heels on, except maybe at the grocery store. The Golden Hoe is the chair of every big social event, but don’t get it twisted, this prima donna can suck a mean dick. She would give a handjob for a Birkin bag in a minute, and she would beat that thing like she was mad at it. She is the most gorgeous woman you have ever seen . . . and she is as mean as a snake.

  “GUCCI PIG”

  I spent $6,000 on two pairs of gorgeous Gucci boots I had been lusting after, and I was thrilled when I finally found them online. I couldn’t wait for them to arrive. When they did, I tore open the box, stuffed my feet into them, pulled up the zipper and . . . they didn’t fit over my calves! The damn Gucci Pig was born right there.

  H

  HAPPYGASMS

  A combination of an orgasm, an artgasm, and a moneygasm. Honestly, if you put “gasm” at the end of anything, it works. But a happygasm is the best. It’s when everything just feels right in the world. When my jeans don’t feel tight, when I’m selling art, when I’ve had a real orgasm, when it’s not too hot outside, when I’m feeling inspired, when all the people I love are okay, and when I couldn’t literally give two fucks about anything else.

  K

  KARL LAGERFELD

  Here’s Karl Lagerfeld, front and center in The Fashion Empire Strikes Back. Karl is a modern emperor. He was a powerful force at both Chanel and Fendi, not to mention the label to which he lends his name. Maybe he should also add fat police to that title. Even though he got outed for stealing into a McDonald’s for his favorite lunch, like a thief in the night. Come on, Karl! Nothing wrong with a double cheese, fries, and a Coke. No need to hide behind those big sunglasses. I loved you when you were fat, and I love you now that you’re skinny. I’ll take you any way I can get you.

  KEGELS

  This is not a choice. You’ve got to keep it tight. The best times to do Kegels are when you’re eating carbs, or at the drive-thru at McDonald’s, because if you’re going to be curvy, then you might as well keep it tight. Or, when you’re waiting in line. People will look at you funny in the bank, sure, but you’re doing it for your man, so keep going. You’re also doing it for yourself. Who wants to pee a little every time she sneezes? Are you doing Kegels now? Dudes need to do Kegels too, by the way; I learned this shit in Pilates.

  KIM AND KANYE

  Oh, look, it’s Kanye on a box of Cocoa Puffs cereal, and Kim on a jug of milk. Lunch Is for Pussies. Why? I loved the idea of Kanye being all serious on the Cocoa Puffs box and Kim’s cry face on a carton of milk, and if you mix the two of them together and they sit for too long—it becomes a whole disgusting mess that you have to choke down really quick. And with the way their egos are, if those two had each other for breakfast, why the fuck would they need lunch?

  L

  LOOKS CAN BE DECEIVING

  Some women come to the studio with a $200,000 car, a seven-carat diamond on their finger, and a $10,000 handbag, and I’ll think I’m about to hit gold. Then they’ll pick out a $5,000 painting and ask if they can pay it off over the next six months. They have no fucking cash; it’s all a façade. Then I have a woman rolling up in here in a Disney World sweatshirt and Crocs, and I’m thinking, “This chick looks as crazy as a shithouse rat,” but I come to find that she’s a millionaire. Makes you realize, when you’ve really got it, you don’t have to prove a goddamn thing. Women don’t have to prove anything if you work and make your own money; it’s more about the cash than the flash.

  M

  MEANING IN LIFE

  Now that I’ve gotten older, I realize that life is all about the people you surround yourself with and the moments you share with them. There are moments when I’m with my friends or family, or even at work with my team, and they make me so happy I cry—and that’s when I know I’m on the right path. And crying doesn’t mean I’m hormonal, or crazy, or that I need a fucking Xanax and a drink. To have those feelings and be fully in that moment is the best feeling in the world.

  N

  NEW ORLEANS


  New Orleans and I have a tumultuous love affair. If I had to compare it to any type of couple, it would be an old Italian couple. When I get upset, like when it’s so fucking hot, or when the first ten minutes of the news is all about how many people have been murdered, I have my hands up in the air, and I’m yelling.

  But what I love about this place is its rawness. If you do come to New Orleans, we’re not trying to hide anything from you. We’ve got the good, the bad, and the fucking ugly all right here, and it makes one beautiful, fascinating beast. I love Mardi Gras, I love a second line band, I love a parade, I love drama, I love excess of every kind, and that is New Orleans. I love the courtyards and ivy-colored walls. There is a reason artists, musicians, and chefs flock to this place. It’s bohemian and embraces all weirdness. It’s the birthplace of jazz, for God’s sake! People come to New Orleans to drink, eat, and listen to music. They want to be intoxicated by art, and everything else, for that matter.

  New Orleans and I have a tumultuous love affair. If I had to compare it to any type of couple, it would be an old Italian couple.

  NATURE

  There’s something intoxicating about oak trees covered in moss and the sound of cicadas at night. When I was little, I’d freak my friends out because I’d go collect bugs. In July, I would know when the luna moths would hatch, and I’d go watch their wings unfold. My friends thought it was disgusting, but I was fascinated by it. I always had jars with frogs, earthworms, and fireflies. That’s something people never guess about me, but I love nature. In order for me to process this American greed, and this whirlwind I’m a part of, I need to go into the woods and give my brain a clean slate. It’s like my very own (better) Garden Club.

  YOU WANT TO BE HAPPY? GET OUT OF BED AND DO SOMETHING MEANINGFUL WITH YOUR LIFE.

  P

  PEGGY MCDOUGAL

  She just popped out of my mouth in the George V Paris, straight from Wisconsin. Peggy is the ultimate Middle America woman. She’s sexually repressed, she’s dying to know life outside of the Cheesecake Factory, and she’s gotten herself in financial trouble because they gave her a Target card and a Bed, Bath & Beyond card (she doesn’t even care about the Bed & Bath—she only gives a shit about the Beyond). She’s horny as fuck, loves to talk shit about her best friend, Patricia, wants to climb Bieber like a tree, and wants a rapper to do coke off her butthole.

  PENISES

  Penises are fun, but I spend a lot of my time wondering how in the world men are just walking around with all that junk hanging between their legs. I’ll be just sitting next to Michael, and I’ll ask, “What is happening with your ’nads right now? Are they in between your thighs? Are they below them? How does that work?” It’s not like titties, where I’ve got a bra and they’re all pulled up (unless they’re wearing a budgie-smuggler or banana hammock). Being an artist is a bit like being a scientist—we like to study shit. Sometimes our curiosity leads us to painting a giant penis or a pair of balls. It’s only normal to be curious about something you don’t have. Anyway, to me the penis is an awesome thing, but I’d take having a vagina any day. There’s a reason that the female body is the most photographed thing on the planet.

  PRESCRIPTION DRUGS

  There’s a pill for everything, and some of them actually work—they make your dick hard, they make that headache go away, they lower your cholesterol. But there’s no happy pill, bitches. You want to be happy? Get out of bed and do something meaningful with your life.

  I can hear self-medicated women coming from a mile away. I hear the little pill shakers in their purses when they come into the studio. They have prescriptions for Adderall so they don’t eat all day, and Xanax to take them down when they have to pick the kids up from school. This attitude society has, that beauty is about being thin and taking pills, doesn’t lead to happiness or health. We have to accept that we’re not always going to be as skinny as we want to be and we’re not always going to look as young as we want. Maybe if you’re depressed, because you’re hanging out with a bunch of cunts, the answer isn’t taking a bunch of pills; the answer is not hanging out with those fucking cunts anymore. But, if they want to come into my studio, I’ll give those ladies a glass of Champagne, and they can pop a Xanax, and I’ll get all up in that Birkin bag.

  POWER

  You know what power is? Power isn’t about stuff, or money, or status. Power is being able to take care of yourself. Physically, spiritually, emotionally, financially. That’s the ultimate power, and there’s nothing in the world like it. Power is not having to suck dick for anything.

  S

  SELF-LOVE

  Now that I’m older, I wouldn’t trade what I know now in my life and the confidence I have for perkier tits. In my twenties, I was a fiercely ambitchous and extremely goal-oriented girl, but I was very insecure about my body and myself. Now, I look back and think, Jesus Christ, I looked pretty damn good back then. All of my failures and experiences have made me brave. I really don’t give a fuck. The only thing that is important is that I love me for me.

  The beauty of me now is I can look at myself and I think: Not only can I buy the things I want to buy, and create the things I want to create, and I contribute to society, but goddamn it, I love me some motherfucking me. I like the way I look; I like the way my body is. Maybe if I were thinner, I wouldn’t be as approachable. I’m a big fan of the self-loving, and not self-loathing. Your youth, your virginity, your reputation, they’re all things you never know you have until they’re fucking gone—so appreciate yourself and all you have.

  Now that I’m older, I wouldn’t trade what I know now in my life and the confidence I have for perkier tits.

  POWER IS BEING ABLE TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. PHYSICALLY, SPIRITUALLY, EMOTIONALLY, FINANCIALLY.

  SEX AND RELATIONSHIPS

  I love to watch the modern mating dance, especially now that I’m older. If you go somewhere like Miami, you’ll see these young girls in thongs with their big fucking Kardashian asses, and they’re bouncing around, trying to get the attention of men who are clearly renting Lamborghinis because they don’t know the difference between turning on the blinker and turning on the windshield wipers. It’s just all this big peacocking dance, and it’s part of who we are as humans. I will say that I’m happy that I’ve found the love of my life, so I can focus my energy on being creative artistically, and not on being out on the town, cougaring around.

  SHOPPING

  Oh, I’ve had mad problems since I memorized my AmEx card number. I love nothing more than to turn down the AC to about 64, pile my dogs on my bed, yank out my laptop, and go to fucking town. I’ve got three companies now, and I don’t have time to be shopping all day, so I love to online shop. This is a modern woman. This is how we do it . . . naked in the dark.

  It’s funny, I’ll buy something and just hoard it for three or four months so it stays brand new, like new Gucci shoes or a kimono jacket. I covet them, I love them, and I can’t believe they’re mine. Sometimes I like to see how fast I can buy stuff online. I’ll put my card information in, and I’ll be like, Oh, my god, I just spent fucking $15,000 in three minutes, then I go right ahead and check the return policy.

  THE SOUTH

  The South is a different dance; it’s a different kind of bird. I think it’s wonderful that manners are really important down here and that we still value formalities. It’s an asset, and it’s always been one to me, no matter where I go. People might see my social media and think I come in the room dropping f-bombs, but the opposite of that is true. I’m enthusiastic and gracious because the South raised me that way. The South—well, really my grandmother—taught me how, even when other people are being assholes, it’s best to just bat your eyes and smile. And of course, when you can’t bite your tongue, you can just drop the old “thank you so motherfucking much” on them and see how they react.

  There are also parts of the South I don’t love. The conservative upbringing I had in Montgomery tried its hardest to mold me into another trophy wife, a
follower. But luckily, that backfired and fueled the wonderful weirdness that has made me successful.

  STRESS AND ANXIETY

  Stress is the real deal. Everyone in this world feels it, and everyone has to deal with it in their own way. For me, if I’m sad or stressed, the only cure is action. My dad used to say, “They ain’t gonna line up at the door. You ain’t gonna get anywhere sitting around scratching your broke ass. You’ve got to get your fucking ass up and do something.” If I’m feeling like I need to make some money, then I better paint a fucking painting. Once I’ve made that painting, I put it on Instagram, I make a video of it, and I send it to my top clients. Action, action, action, action. The only way to alleviate that anxiety is to knock shit off the fucking list. You can’t just sit around, scratchin’ around.

  T

  THINGS YOU EAT WHEN YOU EAT YOUR FEELINGS

  As American women, we’ve been taught that we have to be a million things: We have to be thin, rich, live on the right street, be successful—but not too successful—and if you have kids, they have to be straight out of a Rockwell painting. It’s just too much goddamn pressure, and sometimes nothing can make that hate go away like a slice of pecan pie. For me, I like pizza, and if I were going to get electrocuted tomorrow, my last supper would be chicken strips and ice cream.