PAGE SEVEN: Picking Up Where the “Page Six Spy” Left Off

Dayna
The Hairpin
Published in
3 min readMay 30, 2014

Yesterday, a “Page Six spy” delivered a report from inside the Kimye wedding. In the future, all aspirational literary references to the “Great American Novel” will be replaced by aspirational literary references to the “Page Six Spy Report.” “Florence has bid arrivederci and goodbye to Kanye and Kim,” wrote the spy yesterday. “Come back soon, but please, not too soon.”

Bye-bye, Kimye. Bye-bye to one of the greatest Italian vocalists of all time. Bye-bye to the golden toilet tower and the marble nudes that weighed half a ton. Bye-bye to the lone spotlight that landed on Kim’s crotch. But most of all bye-bye to the 50-year-old woman who passed out on an ottoman. We assume she died. Bye-bye to her.

Just like the entire circuit that Kim unplugged because she was mad about a spotlight she’d walked into, the Florentine wedding between Kanye and Kim is over. It’s for the best, since Kimye and the Italians would never, ever see eye to eye on style. That is, Minimalist versus Maximalist. Minimalism is a marble piano and where did Kanye get a saw from?

But when we say bye-bye, what are we leaving behind? Who is dismantling the golden toilet tower and where do the tables go with the misspelled name inscriptions? A proxy Elizabeth Gilbert 20 years in the future takes a solitary trip to Florence. She decides it is not too soon anymore and sits down to write the Next Page Six Spy Report.

At the flea market in Piazza Ciompi.

Ah, I have eaten and eaten and eaten! And now I am ready to pray and then love!

Glides unadorned ring finger along marble table, wistfully.

Look at all these precious items at this flea market. I could sit at this very table and eat a bowl of pasta. Or I could turn on this very lamp while I drank down some gelato. Or perhaps I could — wait, does that say Jadan Smith? I thought his name was spelled Jaden?

And to the Beliebers who thought they’d see Justin in coattails or formal shitpants, where does that leave you? The day after, has Bieber sent you flowers at the hospital, one fan who fell? Why did you climb that tower? Ill-advised. It’s not a metaphorical tower of love, or a fondue tower. It’s a tower!

No one in Florence has been to a bar in Texas, but perhaps they will go now because Kanye really hates them. Texas, watch out: you’re about to get a lot of Italians asking Dove? and smoking cigarettes. Make sure your Campari is cold and your appreciation of Renaissance masters such Brunelleschi, Giotto, Michelangelo, and Raphael is strong. Never mention the Flemish Renaissance. What are you, crazy? That is social suicide!

Four marble nudes were missing heads. Countless glasses were smashed by Jadan Smith. The entire wedding was performed in darkness. But did you know that $136,000 is equal to 100,000 Euros? Who has that kind of money to blow? Lana del Rey is going to sound like shit no matter what stereo you use, Kanye.

Anonymous, you’re a better writer than Flannery O’Connor. Page Six called you a “spy” but you’re more like a poet. Does the name Virgil ring a bell?

Bye-bye.

Dayna Evans is a writer. Find her on Twitter here.

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