Before I was a fashion editor sitting second row at Paris Fashion Week, I was lowballing people on Grailed.
At fashion school in New Zealand, I rocked Rick Owens Geobaskets and posted crazy on Instagram, collecting streetwear kids from all over the world along the way. Years later, the fit pics have dried up and, against all odds, most of us have real jobs. But we’re still bound by the thing that brought us together: music.
This is how I found myself hosting an Opium party in London.
For the uninitiated, Opium began as Playboi Carti’s label in 2019 and has since ballooned into a whole creative universe around Carti, Ken Carson, Destroy Lonely, and Homixide Gang, with producers, artists, and creatives like F1lthy, Gab3, Sexisdeath, Fritz Owenz, Myles Henrik Hall, and Artdealer in its orbit. The sound is blown-out 808s, distortion, hypnotic repetition, and alternative influences; the look pulls from goth, punk, and metal. Eventually, the internet did what it does best and flattened the whole thing into an “Opium aesthetic,” meaning fans weren’t just listening to the music, they were dressing like it too.
So when Playboi Carti opened for The Weeknd at Wembley Stadium during his five-night sold-out run, obviously I went (VIP).
My heart was pounding as I watched Carti come onstage to perform “Timeless” and “Rather Lie” with Mr. Weeknd. It was one of the best shows I’ve ever seen. The pyrotechnics were so egregious that I genuinely thought my eyelashes were going to singe off.
I went home and watched Carti music videos until I ran out of White Claws.
The next morning, I woke up to discover that the white cotton nightie I had planned to wear to the party that night had been returned to sender. A fashion emergency!
I was too hungover to shop properly, so I texted the very well-dressed Camille Charrière, owner of a crazy and enviable wardrobe, and told her about my predicament. She told me to meet her assistant at her house and take whatever I wanted. I settled on a blue latex Versace number, the kind of dress popularized by Love Island UK contestants and lovingly dubbed the “Clingeh” by fans.
I spent the rest of the afternoon adding names to the guest list, getting drunk, and shopping on Portobello Road. I complained that nightlife was starting to feel like a job. Getting dolled up and procuring designer clothing is, of course, my job.
My musician boyfriend, Jezmi, who has his very own long and storied career in nightlife, looked at me with an expression suggesting that I was a bratty little cow.
I painted my face in vaguely Opium-baddie style—half clown, half slut. I got latex lube all over the wooden floor, and Jezmi slipped in it twice.
Music critic Shaad D’Souza came over to my house because I had texted him in a manner suggesting I had no friends and therefore nobody to Dyson Airwrap the back of my head. He helped himself to a drink from my fridge and told me I was like Susanne Bartsch. I asked if I was like the Opium Amanda Lepore for the night. He said, “Sure.”
I’d never been to Egg before, the legendary King’s Cross club where the party was held. As I approached the doors, my heel kept falling off because I had stretched the shoes out the previous year by wearing them with socks to the Charli xcx The Moment wrap party, which happened to coincide with a sex party in a mansion in central London.
Security gave me a hard time, despite the fact that you could see the outline of my belly button through the latex dress. Later, my friend told me that security had pulled her into a medical tent and shone a flashlight in her eyes because she was fabulously wine-drunk.
Eventually, I made it to the green room, where I was greeted by plastic carafes labeled TEQUILA #1, TEQUILA #2, TEQUILA #3, and WHISKEY.
In attendance was a gaggle of London nightlife fauna: a The Weeknd lookalike, Sinn6r, Coucouchloe, Anaïs Setareh, Uneek, and Myles Henrik Hall of DIARY 1999, who was my connection to the Opium universe.
F1lthy, the prolific producer whose distinctive sound helped shape the sonic world around Opium, headlined the party. From his first track, the crowd was already in a mosh pit. Multidisciplinary artist and new-gen style icon Gab3 followed with his hit “I Got Bands,” before giving the crowd an exclusive preview of several unreleased tracks from his upcoming album, 00RAV3. In oversized cat-eyes, a leather Perfecto, and a tangle of Chanel pearls, pins, and diamonds, he looked every bit the rock star.
Shelovesmeechie brought the same energy, going off throughout F1lthy’s set before grabbing the mic to perform a track of his own. Fritz Owenz kept the crowd moving with a set of his own, while Woozy—Gab3’s protégé and my new favorite person—stepped behind the decks for Gab3 before somehow ending up behind the decks with me and Jezmi.
There comes a point in every night when you’ve had enough of TEQUILA #2 that you decide it’s probably a good idea to get behind the decks.
I tried to play Arcade Fire.
Wrong vibe, obviously.
So I put on Nettspend.
They hated it.
Okay, how about “Jeans” by 2hollis?
Everybody stopped moving.
They just stood there, staring at me, holding up Snapchat screens with song suggestions typed out in Comic Sans: Che’s “On Fleek,” OsamaSon’s “Addicted,” and 50 Cent’s “In da Club.”
Jezmi grabbed one of their phones and closed all the apps. Woozy took someone else’s phone, we took a selfie on it, and handed it back to the kid.
By this point, we had cleared the dance floor. My work here was done.
I’ve started enjoying brushing my teeth because I got a Suri toothbrush.
I was in America for 10 days and spent the whole time doing boots-on-the-ground cosmetics research. Here are my takeaways: K18 dry shampoo is the best on the market; Farah Homidi lip liner in Minky blended with Make Up For Ever Endless Cacao is my new lip combo; I recommend the Soft Services Buffing Bar to everyone who has skin; Victoria Beckham eyeliner and Water Tint blush will be in my kit forever; I only moisturize with AmLactin procured from CVS.
Cheesecloth from LA Apparel.
I brought back a Yu Mei purse from New Zealand for each member of my household, and they are thrilled.
An annual Tate membership would be a great gift to give.
Sasha Sorrell jeans will be the new Hedi Dior jeans.
Shout out the beautiful Annie Kraum and her beautiful new makeup brushes.
I’m not interested in going on holiday in August, and I’m looking forward to summer being over.
I’m scared of toxic cookware and BPA again. Does a nontoxic airfryer exist?
