ad

Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts

This is How This Girl Fakes Having A Hot Boyfriend On Instagram


Having a boyfriend, like having a dog or a houseplant, is so time consuming. You have to take care of him, tend to his enduring thirst, spend time with him ... It's all so muchToo much, one could even argue, if you're a Modern Woman With An Agenda, like me. 
But even the most hardened of broads sometimes wishes for a bae to call her own. Valentine's Day is coming up, after all, and it'd be nice to Instagram a bouquet of flowers that didn't come from my mom (mom, ILY but it's different). Also, after years spent tirelessly monitoring Instagram activity, I've deduced that nothing hits the big time in terms of "likes" as much as lonelygirl thirst-trap pics that allude to having a boyfriend. 





If anything, I figure the combination of Valentine's Day + being in a relationship + aesthetically pleasing flowers shot from above = potential triple digit-like territory, and the only thing keeping me from reaching such ecstasy is ...  lacking a boyfriend. 
But I am nothing if not savvy AF and have found a way to cash in on the likes without having to worry about roping in a man in time for V-day: faking an Instagram boyfriend. Seems simple, I know, but it takes planning, persistence, and a few trusty accomplices. 
The key to this con is that it's a long one — you have to lay the groundwork early in order to really have followers believe you nabbed a doting boyfriend in time for the 14th. But start too soon, and you'll find yourself backed into a corner, flustering to explain your new boyfriend to your mom by the time Valentine's Day rolls around.
For one week, I did the legwork for you and come up with a foolproof plan to fake an Instagram boyfriend. It's so simple, and it gets RESULTS. Consider this my personal guarantee. Read on to get the likes you deserve on what's arguably the best worst holiday of the year.

POST #1: LOVE BLOSSOMS OVER BRUNCH FOR TWO

My Instagram is essentially an ode to single womanhood — I post a lot of selfies (especially of the mirror variety), I post pics surrounded by female friends on girls' nights out, neon signs that just say Wine, and I've even been known to post pics of actual lines from Sex and the City (the book) that scream, "I AM A SINGLE WOMAN IN NEW YORK!!!!" Even in the throes of an IRL relationship, I tend to keep my suitor separate from my feed. Basically, for me to postanything that alludes to the fact that I've found love in a hopeless place (New York City) is huge and would cause a disturbance in the depraved-yet-somehow-cool-and-fun personal brand I've spent years perfecting. 
So my first post was subtle — I needed it to fit in with my Instagram essence, and I needed it to really look like I'd just met someone. This is important: You don't want to depart too quickly from your regularly scheduled Instagram programming. This is a rookie mistake, and you are a goddamn professional. Repeat this to yourself each morning: I vow to maintain control over my personal brand. It's unbecoming to abandon your online soul and integrity just because you met a man. Feminism. 
This delightful brunch 'gram came during winter storm Jonas. What better time to lasso an unassuming man than during a time of environmental crisis? Note that there are two coffees (black, because we are hardened adults) and two plates in this picture. Clearly, I was not alone. And the caption, my "new friend 😜?" Not actually a new friend! Just someone who agreed to sit across from me while I shoved an inordinate amount of savory French toast into my mouth. 
No one texted me to ask "OMG who r u with!!?" after this post, but that is OK. This is only the beginning. Patience, my children. You cannot rush such fine con artistry as this.

POST #2: "SOMEONE" SENDS ME FLOWERS AT WORK

Someone else in the office got some flowers from a #brand, and I thought, Wow, those flowers look like the kind of thing a man might give a woman if he was trying to woo her and purchase her sex dowry. So now, according to my Instagram, the hot piece of ass I went to brunch with ("someone not gross") sent me some flowers at the office! How sweet of fake Insta boyfriend. People who follow me closely enough were meant to pick up this photo hint like the disgusting bait that it was. 
But it seems I overestimated my followers, because no one thought this post and its caption signified romance. In fact one follower, a close friend from college, simply commented "granny," because she apparently thinks that only my grandmother would enact such a sweet gesture (she's not that wrong).
I decided I had to ramp things up if people were going to believe me. Pull out all the stops. This is no time for subtlety and nuance. I went full-on lovelust. 

POST #3: BEER — BECAUSE MEN LOVE BEER

Midweek, an opportunity presented itself to interact with a male friend in the wild (at a dive bar). "Perfect," I thought to myself, drumming my fingers mischievously, "An opportunity to expand upon my boyfriend con." 
Like all men before him, this friend ordered a beer. Ha HA, he fell right into my trap. I capitalized on the situation by snapping a quick dumpster pic, slapping a mediocre filter on it, and captioning it accordingly. 
The lesson here is that the quality of the pic does not matter nearly as much as the caption when it comes to wrangling faux-likes out of your idiotic followers. I mean, 21 hearts for a poorly lit pic of a gross beer bottle? They had come for my newfound romance, and for the first time in this con, I had my followers right where I wanted.
Something that helped here was that I had found an accomplice at this point — a coworker, Danielle, helped me out by commenting with three 😍. If anyone who followed me had any doubt, this comment solidified their suspicions: I was on a date, dammit, with a real, live man. 


This post drew some response, as well. My first markers of success. Trophies, if you will.

Do I see a plot developing? You bet I do.

POST #4: I SUCCUMB TO SUBWAY PDA (SORT OF)

At this point in the experiment, bolstered by the excitement of my first suspicions from friends, I reached an important crossroads. I had to decide how much I could afford to toe the line between staying on brand and going full-on Insta girl in love if I really wanted people to believe me. How much of my own integrity could I maintain if I wanted to give the impression of being truly happy in my relationship? How much of myself was I willing to lose, in order to gain (a ton of likes)?
I swallowed my pride and went for it — I decided to give my followers their first official glimpse at the hottie I'd been hiding from them for five whole days. I needed something bigger to fuel their newfound thirst for my budding, chronicled romance. I decided on a glimpse at his alleged hand.
The key to pulling off this move is to be sneaky with your camera, and to be in a place with lots of people. What better place than a crowded subway car during rush hour? I simply placed my hand next to a man's on the rail, drew my phone in close, and snapped a pic. Boom, perfection. 
Normally this kind of caption would be vomit-inducing, but I had to go for broke if I wanted results. And boy, did they come in. This time my grandma (who I call Bonga, long story) texted me to find out who I was necking with on the L train. 






With my family on board, I deemed the caption, in all its unholy disgrace, a success.  

POST #5: "WE" GET COFFEE, AS LOVERS DO

Having relinquished myself for the previous subway caption, and feeling confident in my abilities to take creep shots of total strangers in public, I went even bigger with post no. 5. My coworker Danielle (who has an IRL boyfriend and takes killer Instas of him) told me that one of her most successful posts was a picture of hey boyfriend, holding coffee. It makes sense: People love hot men, and people also love hot coffee, so I manufactured a situation in which I could stage such a photograph.
Sunday morning, while waiting for my cortado (I am aware that I am terrible) in a local coffee shop, I sneakily took a pic of a man who was minding his own business, drinking coffee, and reading a book. The fact that he was reading a book was opportune for me. He was utterly distracted and didn't notice the strange woman taking a million pictures of his arms from a foot away.
This picture was also one of my most aesthetically pleasing. The coffee shop has big windows, and this man was dressed in the Good Man on Instagram uniform: gray sweater, dumb sunglasses. This is exactly the way a man I would conceivably date might dress — this was a believable moment upon which to capitalize.
Again, an accomplice commented "I see u" in order to help fool my followers into believing I was actually the kind of monster who would post a picture like this. And it worked. A friend texted me to say her roommate wondered who I was with, and why I hadn't said anything about him.

I did notice, however, that this photograph got fewer likes than I anticipated. Were my followers growing tired of my already obnoxious relationship? Was this picture of a generic man in a generic Brooklyn coffee shop so unbelievable that I'd been found out? Or — my guess — was the caption simply so terrible and so not me that they turned away in disgust? The struggle between brand and bae continues.

POST #6: I SEAL THE DEAL WITH A THAI FOOD DATE

What do couples do on Sunday nights? I don't really know, but I assume that some might enjoy a nice dinner out in public. Since I'd already done a straight-up food Instagram, I decided I needed to do something better. Keep my feed varied. Can't sacrifice all my Instagram integrity on my fake boyfriend. 
To pull this off, I shamelessly asked a friend to take some cute pics of me looking at my drunken noodles over dinner. Simple, but the takeaway from this picture is that it is not a selfie. Note thatboth of my hands are in the picture. Someone must have taken the pic. And to prove that it wasn't just a friend (which, in actuality, it was) I captioned it with a pun (people in love fucking lovepuns) and said it was a date night. 
I could kiss myself, this is so ingenious. And so easy. Again, people bought it. But by now, after a week of these vague, disgusting, loveydovey posts, friends who've known me for a while were getting fed up. Who took this pic of me? Who could I have pulled out of the gutter and forced to date me? They were curious, and they needed answers I couldn't give.

 If you're not careful, this can be your downfall. Here's a little tip, from me to you: just don't respond to them with words! Emoji exist for a reason, and that reason is lying by omission. I decided to go with a simple, yet coy 😜.

Worked like a charm. In my opinion, the 😜 says "Yes, I have a new boyfriend who loves me but as I am a woman in love, I do not have time to tell you about it." Or, in the worst case, 😜 says "I've lost all mental capacity and this emoji is the last thing standing between me and a breakdown." 
This emoji is also good for avoiding an outright lie to your friends that you can later be held accountable for, and it keeps you from having to waste time inventing details about this fake person. After all, it's one thing to lie without abandon on Instagram, but it's quite another to just straight-up lie to close friends and family, and then have to explain to them on the phone that it's all a big rouse, you don't have a boyfriend, his name isn't Josh, and perhaps you suddenly feel more alone than ever because you realized that faking it on IG was the most fun you've had on a date in months. 
Now that my secret has been revealed, it's time for my Insta boyfriend and I to break up. He's been absolutely lovely, I enjoyed the likes these total lie posts brought, but we're through. Time to move on. I've missed posting my usual selfies and mirror selfies. Insta boyfriends (and IRL boyfriends) come and go, but selfies are forever.




Here is What Happened After I Tried Living Like A Celebrity For 7 Days.


Every year during awards season, I spend so, so many hours—just about every weekend in January and February—sitting on my sagging couch, my Thai take-out getting colder by the second, while I try my best to write as many posts as quickly as I can about every thing that goes on during the red carpets and award shows. It is not glamorous and super exhausting, and I've often wondered what it would be like if the tables were flipped. Wouldn't it be great to put on a fancy dress, get made up, and have my biggest task of the day be walking down a carpet? So, when an opportunity came up to attend the People's Choice Awards (always the first show of the season), I decided to make a whole week of it and truly live like the other half. Here's what happened...





SUNDAY
I woke up at the God-awful hour of 4:30 A.M. to get to the airport in time for my early flight to LAX from JFK (a very celeb-friendly flight route, of course). Because it was my last remaining hours as a non-famous person, I elected to call the shady car service I always use for airport trips. (Cheaper than Uber!) My driver pulled up in his tattered car right on time, but I was surprised to see a pre-teen boy sitting in the front seat. "It's OK if my son's here, right?" my driver asked while he threw—literally threw—my carry-on into his trunk. I mean, sure, it's not like I have an option otherwise, is it? On the bright side, having his child in the car did not at all stop this man from driving at a breakneck speed. I got to JFK in record-breaking time. Also, during our ride, the driver said "fuhgeddaboutit" in a non-ironic way, so, long story short, I love him.
After a long security line and six uncomfortable hours of being unable to recline my seat (never sit in an exit row), I finally arrived in Los Angeles ready to behave like the star I know I am. Greeting me at baggage claim was my driver, Frank, a polite, well-dressed man who helped carry my bags to his refreshingly clean SUV. Soon, we arrived at the Loews Hollywood Hotel. Now, this was truly a celebrity experience—my room had champagne in it waiting for me! And a view of the Hollywood sign! And I learned that this is the hotel where every celebrity gets ready for the Oscars at. The stars literally go there on the day of, get ready in their suites, then ride in their limos around the corner to the Dolby theater—even though the hotel literally connected to it. (All of the Oscar press interviews take place in the hotel's ballrooms.) I begged the staff to tell me which celebrities have stayed in my suite before or who will be staying there during this year's award show, but they remained discreet. That's good. I was just testing them anyway...I can't have them revealing that I, a celebrity, have stayed there, right? Another bonus of the hotel: It has a stunning rooftop helipad that is used for things like VIP guest happy hours and rooftop yoga classes. Here's the view:
But soon, hunger took over. I debated ordering room service—seems like a celebrity would prefer to have things brought to them versus venturing outside, no?—but then I saw on Google Maps that In 'N' Out was nearby and my love of burgers took over any reservations I had about being around people asking for my autograph. (Spoiler: They did not.) Also, celebrities love In 'N' Out! Miley Cyrus, Adele, and Beyonce have all been spotted there, so that was good enough for me. I will say: The burger was delicious, but the fries were...OK. But that's a review for another time.
After, I wandered around Hollywood Boulevard and pretended that I was just killing time before my appearance on Jimmy Kimmel Live!. Hollywood feels a lot like New York City's Times Square, which is to say that one visit is enough. I did, however, enjoy seeing the stars on the Walk of Fame. Despite my new "celebrity" status, I don't actually have a star there, so I picked the first person I could find who I'd like to be: Amy Poehler.
MONDAY
*Another morning where I had to wake up insanely early—this time for a private yoga class. Gotta get that Jennifer Aniston body! If I were Jen, I would exclusively do private yoga classes so that nobody can take photos of me in weird poses. There's no hiding when you're not feeling stretchy enough or if you look super awkward during a downward-facing dog pose. *Do I have a Jen Aniston body yet?
I guess one session isn't enough to tell.
After that, it was on to the activity I was most excited for: a massage at Exhale Spa. Heidi Klum and Cameron Diaz are reportedly fans of Exhale's Core Fusion classes, but I'm all about that relaxation. Before the massage, I got to pick my choice of scented oil. There were three options, so I chose the one I think Jen A. might be most likely to get: patchouli. Seems like her, right? Eh? After, the masseuse informed me that she felt a lot of tension in my left shoulder and showed me a stretch I can do to help. I had only been a celebrity less than 24 hours and already the stress of fame was showing!
After the massage, I headed to a leisurely lunch at Fig & Olive—a hotspot in Melrose Place for stars like Amanda Seyfried. I figured Jen, who I decided I was channeling that day, would likely order a salad….but then the waitress suggested the chicken sandwich and fries, and I was sold. So much for that Jen A body. The fries were worth it. They're called "skinny fries," which I assume means they are diet friendly. Right? RIGHT?!
Next, it was on to a VIP tour of the Dolby theater, where the Oscars are held. I even picked out my seat of choice: Front row between Channing Tatum and Keira Knightly is perfect, thankyouverymuch.
Later, we had dinner at Cleo at the Redbury Hotel. Scarlett Johansson and the Beckhams (Victoria and David) have been there before, though I didn't spot any celebs during my meal. After dinner, however, was a much better celeb-sighting experience. During drinks at Good Times at Davey Wayne's, a 70s-themed bar that plays vintage music, uses shag carpeting in the decor, and serves drinks like the "Tiny Dancer," I instantly spotted Marry Me's Ken Marino and Brooklyn Nine Nine's Joe Lo Truglio sitting on the patio with their buddies. I, a huge comedy nerd, wanted to shout "Wet Hot American SummerThe State!" as a sign of my respect for their work. But I refrained because I honor my fellow celebrities' privacy.
TUESDAY
I had the option to take an early Soul Cycle class—it's a favorite of David Beckham and Jake Gyllenhaal—but...I opted for my beauty rest instead. If Adele doesn't care for spinning, then it's not for me either. That afternoon, I took a tour of the Warner Bros. lot and saw lots of cool things, especially Harry Pottermemorabilia, but perhaps most exciting was the scoop I got on Gilmore Girlsreturning! (Read all about that here.)
Then, it was time to head to Beverly Hills for lunch. I dined at Thomas Keller's Bouchon a table over from Elton John's manager (or former manager? I forget) and ordered a steak. A steak! For lunch! So extravagant. It was delicious, but by this point the busy life of a celebrity (eating, working out, going to bed late after a night of networking) was starting to wear on me. I ordered a coffee to go with my meal, but even that didn't boost me up. After lunch, I met with celebrity stylist and personal shopper Joe Katz, but I could barely keep my eyes open. He was lovely as he escorted the group I was with around the Van Cleef & Arpels on Rodeo Drive, showing off jewelry that may or may not be loaned out for awards season, but I could feel myself winding down.
By then, I was so ready for a nap, but only had a few moments to check into my next hotel, the W Los Angeles-West Beverly Hills, and change before dinner at Hinoki & the Bird, a favorite of industry executives. The food was amazing, but I was so tired I couldn't figure out how to use the sink in the bathroom. True story. I wish I was kidding.
WEDNESDAY
The big day of my trip! I started with brunch at Clementine. It's in the middle of industry offices in Century City, so many music celebs have been spotted there getting a bite. DJ Khaled Snapchatted a recent visit, and Calvin Harris reportedly loves their Turkey Caliente sandwich. Yum.
After brunch, I got a nail treatment at Bellacures, where stars like Jessica Alba have been known to go. Once I was all glammed up (and properly hydrated with mimosas), I rushed back to the hotel to get ready for the People's Choice Awards that evening. I ordered room service for a quick lunch because I knew I wouldn't be able to eat again until late that evening after the show—but my GlamSquad arrived at the same time as my food, so I only got to shove a few bites in before it got cold and sad. Oh well. I turned my attention on to my beautification process instead. The W Los Angeles-West Beverly Hills offers an awards season viewing package, which includes a cocktail party at STK, GlamSquad makeovers, and Rent the Runway, so I had rented a black jumpsuit from RTR (this one, to be exact) because I wanted that Taylor Swift/Emma Stone vibe. If they can wear a jumpsuit, I can too, surely? Too bad this one was slightly big on me, so I had to do some quick styling. You're only ever photographed from the front on the red carpet though, so I had that going for me.
Once I got to the PCAs, I stopped by the red carpet—and it was INSANITY. There were so many flashing lights and people and screaming and confusion. I don't know how celebrities do it. They all looked so poised and normal, but it was a literal zoo happening around them. After the show, I finally got to eat (at STK), but by then, it was so late that all I could stomach was a few mini sliders. (Burgers seems to be a theme in my life.)
THURSDAY
Finally, a day off! I had a leisurely morning strolling around Westwood before heading off to meet up with Glamour's west coast contributor, Jessica Radloff, who basically acted as my personal handler for the day. She escorted me around the Television Critics Association winter press tour, which is a gathering for networks to highlight upcoming and current shows for the press, and we attended an HBO party, where I met real celebrities: Sesame Streetpuppets!
The only food there that I could find were milk and cookies (and Cookie Monster had those on lockdown), so we headed to Cecconi's, a West Hollywood celebrity hotspot. It was crowded, so we were told the wait would be 45 minutes to an hour for a table. Did they not know that I am famous? I didn't want to pull that card though because I am humble and of the people. (And it would surely show up in TMZ the next day.)
FRIDAY
By this point, my normal, non-celeb life had caught up with me (read: I had a ton of emails), so I took some time off from being famous to catch up. Snooze. But I did take a moment to get lunch at Plan Check, a favorite of Taylor Swift's. I ordered a fried chicken sandwich because it seemed southern-y and she has a house in Nashville, so maybe that's what she would order? (Eh, worth a shot.)
Later in the day, my exhaustion from the week hit and I fell asleep hard. But naps are miracle workers—within two hours, I was ready to hit the town again for one last famous LA experience: drinks at No Vacancy, a favorite of Rob Pattinson and K-Stew. I managed to reserve a table (they are hard to get!) and my friends and I ordered a giant punchbowl. A lot of people stared at us, clearly trying to figure out who we were to get such good seats and have such a giant bowl of punch. Finally, people notice that I'm famous!!! (Also, our gorgeous waitress was a former American Idol contestant because this is LA and of course.)
I also found a secret photo booth:
SATURDAY
Time to go home back to my normal life. But I had one experience left: A driver in NYC greeted me in a Bentley. Here's a photo as proof:
As if this wasn't luxurious enough, the seats in the car have a back massager, which is the most wonderful thing that's ever happened after a long flight where I yet again could not recline my seat. (Gosh darn you, Virgin America.
As I looked out the window of this fancy car, I reflected on my time and what it was like to be a celebrity. Yes, it was filled with wonderful new experiences and luxury that I could never afford day to day. But there was also a lot of pressure, stressful time management, and an inability to be in control of your own day. I was surprised at how happy I was to get back to my normal life—which included writing about the Golden Globes, on my couch, that very evening. I will miss that back massager though...




RECENT POSTS

ad