I’m maybe sat on my bed or most likely whoever’s couch I’m sleeping on this Thursday 26th March earlier this year, when I get an email from an unidentified female that tells me:
“Hello London Preppy,
I got your e-mail from your facebook site, I was wondering if you would like to answers some questions about your lifestyle and about your 'fascination' about Bret Easton Ellis?
My name is ___ ___ and I'm a student at ___ in ___. I'm doing my final major project BA (Hons) in Fashion Journalism and I have decided to do a magazine called 'Glamorama' that is an homage to Mr. Ellis and his work. This magazine will appear in my University's graduate fashion week and of course will be viewed by my teachers.
Hope to hear back from you, I'd love to talk to you more!
Now, generally I’m very bored and severely self-obsessed, which is a dangerous combination in terms of making myself available to anyone who wants to dedicate some time and attention to me, so I write back:
Of course. I'd be happy to help. Let me know.
Then ___ replies that this is great and she will soon send me some interview questions, then ___ sends me some interview questions.
The questions vary between the extremely challenging ones that I’ve never heard before (“Do you wish to remain anonymous as London Preppy”, “Why did you start writing your blog”, “Are you a big fan of Bret Easton Ellis”), which I close my eyes, tie one arm behind my back and respond to, and the clearly misguided insane ones, which I really don’t know how to answer (“Do you realize that Mr. Ellis’ purpose on writing nihilistic books is the fact that he hates that world”).
Answers that I give include:
“I started the blog over two years ago. It was a personal diary that I wrote and shared with friends. I never set any targets, as in, I want to have this many thousand readers a day. As it grew bigger and bigger I started writing less personal stuff and it became a mix of fiction and reality”
“The tattoo is a declaration of how appealing his work is to me. I’m not really interested in Bret Easton Ellis as a person, or as a celebrity. I wouldn’t want to meet him and “hang out” with him and neither do I idolise him. I appreciate his philosophy as it comes through his writing. I share similar concerns. Therefore, I don’t consider myself “a fan”. I don’t want to go through his rubbish or get his autograph”
I send the email a few days later and forget about it.
I continue to play the role of a human being for a couple more months as I have been doing for the last 29 years and then on 6th May I receive the following email:
I don't know if you remember me, I'm the girl who asked you a few questions for my final major project in Fashion Journalism. I'm still working on my articles and was wondering if you would be up for doing a face to face interview with me?
I’m liking this a little bit less because I can’t be bothered, but regardless I agree to meet up and play. This meeting takes place in early May.
We go to some coffee shop and ___ buys me a hot chocolate. She tells me that she wanted to meet up with me, because my answers over email were disappointing, I didn’t come across crazy enough, I was ruining her angle and she was finding it difficult to write her piece. She asks me more or less the same questions again in person this time, and I see that I’m boring her, I’m clearly not the psychopath she was hoping for, I’m not as obsessive as the blog makes me look, basically I’m not London Preppy. The only time I see her eyes light up is when I mention what the tattoo down my back says (which I’ve never revealed on the blog) – basically another Bret Easton Ellis reference. I can see that this is something she will use.
The interview ends, she tells me that I’m boring again, begins to question whether I actually write London Preppy myself.
At the end of the day this is perhaps my fault. If people want to interview London Preppy, perhaps I should answer like London Preppy. I’m new to this though, I don’t know how to do it.
Anyway, about a week ago I remember this whole thing again and send ___ and email to ask how it all went, and can I see the article please. ___ replies (after my third email) and sends me a link with the article.
I start to read, and whatever sedatives I’ve taken today are simply not enough. ___ has chosen to go down her original route and up-craze me, because I guess it reads better. So she’s making me come across as a complete nutcase, a terminally flawed character, an absolute idiot. Now, I’m not exactly sure, but I think I can respond on here. So I will. In long-standing London Preppy tradition, I will copy her article and make comments as we go along with whatever I want to say.
This is too long a post already so I’ll take a break and post article / reply shortly.