I , Elisa D, being of (somewhat) sound mind and body, declare this to be my Last Will and Testament. I revoke all wills and codicils and any shit written on a napkin or the back of an old Starbucks receipt previously by me.
I appoint my bestie, Molly, as my Personal Representative to administer this Will and make sure that my enemies do not loot the contents of my closet.
I direct my Personal Representative to pay out of my estate whatever I still owe to the bloodsuckers at Neiman Marcus and Saks Fifth Avenue. Why don’t I just give them my first born while I’m at it?!
I devise, bequeath, and give my Fashion Photography Collection to The Philadelphia Museum of Art, with instructions that they put up a bigass plaque with my name on it and throw a gala to celebrate my generosity and fabulous taste. But to my gay BFF, Ryan, I leave any photos that show a woman’s tits so that he may enjoy the sweet irony. He also gets dibs on anything leather or remotely kinky in my closet.
I give my television and my shitty DVD player from Target to my building’s concierge, Wellington, so that he has something to entertain him now that I’m gone. Just put my stack of DVD’s by the curb and see if anyone wants them. If no one takes my copy of Weekend at Bernie’s, consider that the downfall of society.
I give my squash racket to my personal trainer, William, but hope that he would feel too guilty to ever play again with anyone else because it just would not be the same because I am one of a kind.
I donate my sexy lingerie and corset collection to whichever of my female friends are divorced at the time of my death and need them to woo a new man because let’s face it ladies, you aren’t getting any younger and you need all the help you can get (I kind of have a hunch who all will get divorced but I better keep my mouth shut).
I give my furniture, specifically my cat-pee stained mattress (thanks Blackberry) and a rickety nightstand to my friend Adam because he won’t give a shit that it sucks he just likes taking my things.
And now for the good stuff. I give my Rick Owens runway vest to Ayumi because you totally get the whole Rick Avant Garde thing. Ayumi can also have all my fashion and art books if she can arrange a way to schlep them home.
I give my Alaia dresses to Terry because i was a total ass about not lending them to her after that time she borrowed one and it came back smelling of perfume which I’m legit allergic to.
I give my Chanel thigh high boots to…wait nevermind, I wanna be buried in those bad boys.
I give my Chanel clothes, hats, fingerless gloves, and headbands to my BFF and Personal Representative, Molly, because she will either totally appreciate them or she will sell them in her store and totally appreciate the cash.
I give my Fendi and Dior clothes to my sister, Laura, even though her skinny ass will have to have them taken in several sizes. And i give my fur jacket and scarf collection to Ayumi. Wear them well, my friend. Wear them well.
As for any expensive jewelry my future husband is going to buy for me whether he likes it or not, I leave it all to my mom. Actually, my mom has dibs and first right of refusal on basically everything because I owe her gabillions of dollars.
To my friends I left nothing to, please know that does not mean I didn’t love you. I probably just didn’t love you enough to leave you any of my super cool stuff.
Also, I authorize Molly to pull the plug on me should I ever be hospitalized and no longer able to online shop. Please do not give my future husband plug pulling ability, as surely I will make him crazy and he will pull the plug on me for nothing short of a hangnail.
I know that Jews have closed caskets at their funerals, but if I’m having a good hair day feel free to give people just a peak.
Thank you and Peace Out.