Ivanka is my exotic Russian ballerina.
Ok, she’s not actually Russian but she perfectly channels the refined poise that comes with “Ivanka”. Not to mention that her tall, graceful form lent perfectly to the many years she practiced classical ballet. (Note: this pic is not of Ivanka, but evokes her silhoutte and commanding presence) Ivanka towers over men and stops them in her tracks with her statuesque features. She’s the girl who has the confidence to always wear stillettos, owning her height effortlessly. When Ivanka is on my arm, betches better be aware, we make quite the striking power couple.
She is a Sacramento socialite. Raised on the west coast but schooled in New York City, she has the best of both coasts. Yet her style is a cross between Paris and Martha’s Vineyard. Raised in a family that loved culture and travel, this American girl surely maintains a penchant for adventure and worldly taste. She knows how to be perfectly proper, long ago mastering a poker face, masking judgment behind a smile I know so well.
Yet don’t be fooled by her good taste and avid support of propriety. There are two sides to this betch. Crazy Ivanka often comes out, and I assure you that there are few personalities that are equally as entertaining. If she’s hungry, for godsake give her a sandwich because otherwise who knows what may happen. On late nights after a few drinks, she can RAGE. She loves her EDM but watch out, her Xena-esque cry can scare small children. Crazy Ivanka also has a softer side, channeling a blushing 5-year old betch when she likes a guy worth her time. Of course the unwitting men have no idea, because she rarely breaks her poise and self-assured countenance. She’s multi-faceted, revealing a different side when she decides it’s time for you to be surprised.
Of all the betches, Ivanka best shares my pre-maturely attained bougie standards. We joke that we’re already 40 year-old power ice queens at heart. We bonded over foie gras and escargot and celebrate our mutual foodie love with extravagant, secret dates together (who needs savings right?). We frequent the Plaza for tea, only the F. Scott Fitzgerald option obviously. We’re admitted wine snobs (Seulment Bordeux, Bourgogne, or Sancerre s’il vous plait) and share the belief that Paris is the greatest city in the world; the city where we met and fell in love.
Most importantly, Ivanka is my ultimate confidante. We go to each other when we need clear, unaffected advice. We both have had our fair share of silly betch moments this year but I’m glad she’s been close at hand to bitch slap me, ever so composedly. She is smart, ambitious, and as a day job works at one of the city’s most prominent finance firms. Do see a trend? The betches of my life master not only looks, the fierce factor, and the night, but also excel in intelligence, drive, and success.
I’m not sure what I would do without Ivanka. Probably laugh out loud less at work from her crazy text messages, assuredly spend less money on extravagance, but definitely make more questionable life decisions without her centering force in my life. Thankfully she lives just down the 1 and a catch-up session is only 10 minutes away. Betch on my love.