Karley Krush

I felt a little blasé about watching this "fashion week without the fashion" video on New York nightlife but my interest was sparked when writer Karley Sciortino popped up on screen with her red lipstick and gravelly voice.  I’ve always read Karley’s articles in Vice but only recently discovered her acerbic blog Slutever, reading every sick, twisted and deliciously deranged post in a single weekend. Which is probably why I didn’t want to watch a film on nightlife in New York in the first place since in a previous life I tended to spend Fashion Week/ my entire life reading random blogs about girls who lead drug-fueled existences and live in London squats, while lounging in my pyjamas in the safety of my own rented home, toast crumbs smeared around my nostrils instead of white powder (I miss my mouth a lot when I’m particularly engrossed in what I’m reading).

Anyway, Karley is kule and I have a total writer's krush on her.  It’s odd when a favourite blogger appears in film medium because as a reader you’re generally only privy to whatever façade the blogger curates through their written or photographic work.  Karley herself announces that her blog is "intended to trick strangers into thinking my life is more exciting than it actually is" so there's a voyeuristically pull in seeing the real person behind the blog, if only fleetingly in a film about 'Hidden New York'.

 I haven’t been able to catch up on her blog for a while since it’s usually full of ermmm…controversial images (naked chubsters and blood-covered penises) and I don’t want the cute Koreans in my local internet cafe to think I’m a weirdo.

I miss reading about interviews with psychotic slaves and her inappropriate crushes on pasty, skinny males though.