I Tried to Get a Selfie With a Kardashian and It Did Not Go Well
In Los Angeles, the people are divided into two groups: the Kardashians, and the crazed fans who want to take selfies with them. This is their story.
21 March, 2018
You know how sometimes you go out and you think you're just going to some silly party and then it turns out your whole life is changed because the love of your life walks through the door? Well, last night that happened to me and Khloé Kardashian. Kind of.
You see, it was a night like any other. (Except that I wasn't home watching stolen HBO Go and eating microwave pizza, but still.) My friend Shannon and I went to a party in downtown Los Angeles to celebrate the fancy and gorgeous new capsule collection Forward by Elyse Walker x Unravel. I was the only person wearing a color other than black but more importantly, the focaccia at this place was out of control. There was also an entire giant bowl of olives that would cost you, like, $50 at the Whole Foods Olive Bar (*praise hands* for the Whole Foods Olive Bar).
Hold up, let me show you a picture of the spread:
And that's just that half of it! There was another several tables' worth of snacks like pizza and cake pops and oh my. I was wilding out on roasted, salted cashew nuts (like $14.99 a pound in the Whole Foods bulk section), for real.
OK, back on track. So, Shannon and I take our many, many snacks, and plop down on a couch to stuff food down our maws and and take pictures of all the model-types taking selfies.
We then dance on the empty dance floor — everyone else was too busy being professionally hot and taking selfies — to the tunes of DJ Michelle Pesce, who is a doll and played the best music, which included a lot of Robyn.
After that, we returned to the buffet and it was as untouched as ever. We loaded our plates with more and more focaccia and numerous cake pops, and headed back to our cushy seats. However, as soon as our asses touched the couch this time, we were kindly asked to remove them because the area we were sitting in was apparently reserved. I was all indignant at first because my plate of focaccia was kinda heavy and what was I supposed to do — but then I see out of the corner of my eye a very pretty, very blonde, very tiny lady, and the Cosmo part of my brain (I am the site's weekend editor) kicks in: IT'S FREAKING JOYCE BONELLI.
For those of you with fuller lives than I have, Joyce Bonelli is a very talented makeup artist and the BFF to all Kardashians. I am freaking out and I turn to the guy next to me to say, "IT'S KARDASHIAN MAKEUP ARTIST AND BEST FRIEND JOYCE BONELLI!!!" which was like the least cool thing to blurt out at this party where nobody is even dancing. But it was very exciting to me and I didn't care.
So, I'm freaking and this dude next to me says, "GIRL, LOOK BEHIND HER."
And I do! And it's freaking KHLOÉ KARDASHIAN!!!!!!
OK, so. An aside: I think we can all agree that Khloé Kardashian is one of our collective heroes. She seems like the ~realest~ Kardashian and the one who would most likely help you hide a dead body with minimal questioning if it came to that. She's the coolest and I am basically stroking out.
I don't have much time to respond because I'm pushed out of the section by a bodyguard. But with adrenaline coursing through my veins, I almost instinctively do what I imagine anyone near a Kardashian would do: I ask to take a selfie with her.
Now, this next part all happened in a blur, but what I believe happened was that Khloé did not hear me and her bodyguard physically removed me away from the couch section. Keep in mind, this whole time I'm still holding a gin and tonic and a five-deep plate of delicious focaccia, and I am smiling like a fucking idiot.
Khloé — who, BTW, is gorgeous and rocks ultra-blonde hair like nobody else — and the girls who came with her are wearing matching red shiny jackets like some sort of sassier, sexier Pink Ladies. I want one so badly.
While this is all going on, KYLIE JENNER enters the party and that's when all hell breaks loose. Everyone is flocking to the girls and I am pushed out to sea like a piece of ocean debris. It seems now my mission is clear: Get a selfie with a Kardashian and/or a Jenner. Preferably both.
In pursuit of this goal, I down two more G&Ts and four (4) pieces of focaccia before throwing the last piece away (willpower!) and follow them around the party. And I'm not the only one; everyone at this thing is sucked into their atmosphere. It's as if gravity has a new directional pull and it leads straight to Kylie's (very awesome) black zipper dress.
I'm going to hurry over this next part because it's embarrassing and I've already humiliated my name and my family's name several times at this point, but basically: getting a selfie with a Kardashian or a Jenner is not easy. They are constantly surrounded by not only legit bodyguards (so handsome these men are!) but also a million of their ~closest~ friends.
Not only that, they don't really stop taking selfies or Snapchatting to have any interactions that don't involve people within a foot of them. Which, honestly, makes a ton of sense and as far as they know, I'm just some sad weirdo who wants my Insta filled with pictures of celebrities. Which is not entirely untrue.
I ask the universe and more importantly Twitter for strength.
Unfortunately, it doesn't work. Their barrier is seemingly impossible to breach, but oh, did I try. I ask their bodyguards (lots of head-shaking nos), their friends (lots of pity shrugs), and finally I try to make eye contact with Kylie herself because I know if she senses my friendliness/desperation, she'd happily oblige because that girl has a heart of goddamn gold. I am craning my head like a flamingo when a tall blonde literally pushes me out of the way and into another couch, permanently cutting off my view of Kylie.
I watch them for a while longer but in the interest of not being a total creeper, I actually tried to enjoy the party. I will also say that while most people at this thing didn't touch the spread, I see Khloé indulge in some focaccia (told you she's the best!) and Kylie eat at least one cake pop and some pizza. It fills my heart with love to know that my girls held down the buffet even when nobody else but moi did. Kindred.
Since I am a failure and honestly, I don't want to try harder because what if I get kicked out and can't eat any more focaccia, I settle on second best: taking a few blurry selfies with my girls in the background and then putting them on every social network that allows it.
I also watch Kylie Snapchat in real time, which felt like how it must feel to watch Michelangelo chisel away at David:
Anyway, as Khloé and Kylie complete their orbit around the room and start to exit, I have a last-minute idea that fills me with hope again: I can ask Joyce Bonelli for a pic! Surely ya girl could get a belfie with the most talented pixie makeup artist of all time. After all, she's giving them out left and right to everyone else:
I drink one more G&T (I'm drunk) and head toward her before she suddenly turns her back to me — et tu, Joyce Bonelli?? — and her friend just shrugs in my direction, as if to say, "Girl, you tried and OMG, I feel so sorry for you, girl, and now bye, girl." (This shrug contains multitudes.)
Dejected, I turn to another girl next to me and tell her my sad story. "I tried to get a selfie with a Kardashian and I failed; also, did you try the focaccia?" and this girl turns to me and says, "OMG, you didn't? I totally got one with Khloé and she was SOOOOOOOO nice!!!!" At which time she shows me the best selfie of all time of her and her new BFF, Khloé, just smiling and laughing and having the best time, which was the thing that me and Khloé were supposed to do together!
Oh, well. Sometimes you get a selfie with Khloé Kardashian, and sometimes the selfie gets you.
Mainly what this party taught me was to never be ashamed of taking selfies at any and all times, and if that isn't a great lesson, I don't know ... I just don't know.
Determined to leave the party with some sort of selfie with a celeb, I ask my old friend DJ Michelle Pesce for one. Because she is kind and benevolent DJ, she obliges.
Later that night when I get home, I look up Michelle because I can't go to sleep without thoroughly investigating every person I meet that day. As I munch on purse focaccia, I find out that Michelle has partied with Kanye West! So, basically, it's like I got a selfie with a Kardashian. Finally content, I can go to sleep.
