It’s New York Fashion Week casting season and you know what that means! Time to break up with that girl you’ve been dating! There’s no place quite like New York to live in the perpetual quest of the Bigger Better Deal, and no better time to capitalize on that dick-driven delusion quite like NYFW. Yes, this is a magical time in a magical place. On any given Sunday there is always someone richer, hotter, and younger than what you’ve currently got welded onto your ankle, chaffing your skin and annoying the shit out of you. NYFW, with its parade of 100-pound baby aliens, will make you regret every vaguely old, not entirely pretty chick you’ve liked over the last ten years, sending you weeping into your pillow at night over years of low standards. Love really is a beast of burden, especially when you’re trying to prove to all your dude friends that you’re the man in the Bang Department. That’s right. Bang Department.
Every February and September, all the world’s tallest, most beautiful, rail-thin teenagers descend upon this city, wandering through the streets like lost little puppies clutching maps in foreign languages in the hopes of becoming the next Kate Moss, or at least leave having been able to pay for the $2,000 per month bunk bed in an three-bedroom apartment filled with 27 girls that their agency is currently raping them on. They are young, vulnerable, they don’t speak English. Yes, my man, these are the women for you. And when I say women, I mean girls, because these are, I assure you, girls. They won’t be able to talk to you about much, but goddamn, they are beautiful.
To assist you in your quest, I have detailed a few key stalking points. For the shy, perhaps this will just be a vantage point from which to watch the world’s most beautiful babies as though exotic animals in a zoo. A lookout point, perhaps. For the true creepers, you’ll have that “shooting fish in a barrel” access you’ve always dreamed of. Statistically speaking, after hitting on at least 30 of these chicks, one idiot surely has to succumb to your “charms.” And don’t worry about things getting too permanent. That 19-year-old has the whole world in front of her, and she’s got her eyes out for her own Bigger Better Deal – preferably a baron with a private plane, which, I’m assuming you probably don’t have.
Be safe, and happy hunting you sad little ho bags.
You Will Know Them By Their Inner Thigh Clearance
Okay, first things first. You’re going to have to know what you’re looking at. Models are easy to spot, but just to ensure you don’t accidentally try to pick up a Regular Girl, keep your eyes out for the uniform: Black jeans, black boots, black jackets, and very long, usually straight hair (most often virginal and undyed OR bleached within an inch of its life for an “edgy” look). In terms of measurements, look for nothing shorter than 5’9 and hips absolutely no wider than 35’’ – which, even still, is pushing it. In fact, I would steer clear of girls bigger than 34’’. The bigger ones are probably currently being berated by their agencies for being fat cows and starving themselves for Paris. You can put up with a grumpy babe, but not a miserable babe. Also, she probably won’t be boozing that week (calories!) so your chances of getting laid are slimmer. So, yeah. Stick to 34’’.
Spring Street Natural, Soho
Come for the stalking, stay for the sweet potatoes. If NYFW had a vortex, this restaurant is the eye of the storm. Located in close proximity to a subway station, Marc Jacobs’ headquarters, and multiple agencies, this place is like the Shibuya Crossing of supermodels. While optimal viewing time is during the fall shows, when you can sit on the outside patio for an up-close show, winter can still prove a fruitful time. You might not be able to reach out and touch them, but you can certainly lick the windows as they pass.
Any Club in the Meatpacking District
I’m pretty sure the term “models and bottles” originated here, which, personally, is a concept that makes my skin crawl, but, really, so do you. Head west on your ignoble quest, young soldier.
Whole Foods, 2nd Avenue
Not only a valuable staple during NYFW, this place proves its worth year round, with models flocking to its salad bar for microgreens with no dressing, toppings, or forks, because, well, she wasn’t really going to eat that anyway.
According to a girl who I just met the other day at a casting, who apparently doubles as a club promoter, there will be free food for models at this party on Mondays from 7 p.m. to 11 p.m. You can laugh at the irony here (Models?! Eat?!), but seriously, some of these girls are, like, too hungry – like their poverty has accidentally trumped their anorexia. At a certain point, if you don’t get enough food, you just die. So come here, and pick up babe on the verge of passing out. It’ll save you money on roofies.