Yesterday, the first thing I woke up to was a comment from Bobby Trendy. The designer (“designer”) is famous for his appearances on The Anna Nicole Show and is kind of like a Los Angeles unicorn, a folkloric item similar to Angelyne. He’s a cult hero of high-low, good-bad taste. He is Bobby and he is Trendy.
I have no relationship to him either. This is why it was weird that the sparkling sprinkle that is Bobby Trendy stooped down from his busy design cloud to give me a wave and like a photo that I posted almost a year ago. It was taken at the former Factory in West Hollywood while out with a friend I no longer talk to. It was a gay dance night called POPSTARZ which was dedicated to fag friendly Top 40 dance hits for mainstream masses and ironic pop lovers like myself. It was fun. I don’t remember the circumstances surrounding the photo other than I got really, really excited and I somehow grabbed him and whispered that I wanted a quick picture, which we took very quickly so that we could both get back to our drinks.
I remember he was surprisingly demure. He didn’t have on any makeup and he wore a t-shirt and jeans. His hair was very clean and he smelled good. He didn’t mind that I was covered in dance sweats and that my armpits were close to his face. Perhaps he thought I was cute? I didn’t think he was cute. I just wanted to get a photo with him so that I could text some friends that I took a photo with Bobby Trendy. With Bobby Trendy. Bobby Fucking Trendy. He was once friends with Anna Nicole. He met the other Howard Stern! He knew Anna Nicole’s son! He may even know the true father of Dannielynn Smith!!!! I was a degree away from a deity.
Why would I think about this two minute scene on a night years and years ago? Because an early #TBT with Bobby Trendy popped back into my feed. He probably saw the photo because I tagged itwith #BobbyTrendy as an S.O.S. to connect with him. The strange yet unsurprising yet strange thing is the connection was made by his looking himself forty six weeks after the initial attempt. He must have peeped the photo very late at night too because I saw the photo not long after 5AM—and he had commented only four hours before. He must have had a Wednesday early morning / Tuesday late night party.
Bobby, why were you looking yourself up? Why did you post five red hearts on my photo of us that was posted almost a year after the fact? Did you want to connect? Were you having some late night confidence issues fueled by wine that required your commenting on select #BobbyTrendy photos? Did you get my reply back to you that I posted at 6AM, in which I tried to connect again, to see if we could “engage,” so that I could poke a head into the Bobby Trendy looking glass? Why did you comment? I scrolled through the rest of the #BobbyTrendy photos and you didn’t comment on any of the other ones from that long ago. Is this a part of a bigger social media strategy that I don’t understand yet? Am I the new Anna Nicole?
(Also, please know that I have my own Bobby and that the photo you commented on was from over five years ago: I’m not nearly as punk-twink as I was then.)
So, happy #TBT Bobby Trendy! I don’t understand why you commented on my photo but I like it. I will continue analyzing the circumstances of your wanting to connect until you reply. You may be Bobby and you might be trendy (to some people) but you are Bobby Fascinating to me. Tell Anna I said hello because I know that you can still communicate with her. I imagine it is through an overly ornate yellowing light fixture.