Bitches in London

stassi schroeder rachael obrien jackie schimmel

On this episode of Straight Up With Stassi, the podcasting club (AKA Stassi, Jackie Schimmel of The Bitch Bible, and Rachael O’Brien of Be Here For A While) gathers outside a pub in London for a bitch sesh.

“If you just send out a smoke signal, I’ll find it.”

After Stassi returns from a trip down the street to get batteries for her recording equipment, she says to Jackie:

“You told Rachael a sad story while I was walking down the street to go buy batteries because I’m that much of a hard worker.”

“I might need to step away, I don’t know if I can hear this twice,” Rachael says.

“It’s a national tragedy and I don’t want to oversell it but it’s really, really sad,” Jackie begins. “We were just talking about bringing things on airplanes. I feel like you hyped it up a little much Rachael…”

“No no no no no, Stassi will be heartbroken,” Rachael says. “You need to explain that this was four years ago, before you were married.”

“While I was struggling,” Jackie explains.

“Did you ever struggle?” Stassi asks.

“I maxed out credit cards like it was nobody’s business,” Jackie confirms. “It was one of the first trips Andrew and I ever took together. We were going to this thing in San Francisco, and I had my little carry-on bag.”

“You were really going to blow San Francisco away with your looks, your outfits,” Rachael adds.

“With my OOTDs, to take a note from Stassi,” Jackie jokes.

“You were like, ‘This is going to get Andrew to marry me,'” Rachael says.

“Like, ‘This is gonna seal the deal.’ I went out and I was like, ‘You know what? I’m young, when am I ever in my life going to be able to do this?’ I was maxing out credit cards, and I went and bought this bag that was an Alexander McQueen clutch with brass knuckles,” Jackie says.

“I had that! The fake one,” Stassi chimes in.

“It was like five years ago,” Jackie says. “With the skull…”

“Then maybe I had a real one,” Stassi says.

“Well now you’re just making me irritated because you’re making this sadder,” Jackie replies. “So, I have my carry on, I’m going through TSA…”

“I remember these though, I was so excited about this bag,” Stassi adds. “I loved skulls and badass stuff.”

“I could not afford it, not even a little bit, like, ramen for years,” Jackie says. “But I bought the bag, I’m at the airport, going through TSA. I have never worn the mother fucking bag. The tags are still on it. Don’t… you’re going to start crying.”

“I am, I know where this is going…” Stassi says. “I’m so sorry that happened to you…”

“They pull it out and they say, ‘I’m sorry ma’am, you can’t take this on the plane.'”

“I don’t get why!” Stassi yells.

“They’re like, ‘This is a weapon, they’re brass knuckles, you can’t have this on the plane.’ I’m like, ‘Okay, well can we check the bag?’ They’re like, ‘I’m sorry, the bag check is closed, it’s boarding time’ blah blah blah,” Jackie says. “I’m like, ‘Ma’am,’ I’m looking at her, and I’m like, ‘Gladys, take the bag home, use it, go out with your fuckin’ husband, do whatever the fuck you want with it. But then I can pick it up after my trip. Anything.'”

“If you just send out a smoke signal, I’ll find it,” Rachael jokes.

“They’re like, ‘Ma’am, that’s against policy.’ I say, ‘Can you hold it at the front desk? Can you do anything?'” Jackie recalls.

“You mean they really threw it away?” Stassi asks, horrified.

“She watched them throw it in the trash,” Rachael says.

“In an open bin, with gatorade bottles and fuckin’ Dasani and oversized tinted moisturizers,” Jackie says. “They took my beautiful bag that I sold my soul for and couldn’t eat for, and threw it out right in front of me, and she liked it. She relished in it.”

 

“Cher WHOREowitz.”

“So we’re strolling through Kensington Gardens, enjoying nature, this is the place where Kate Middleton, the epitome of subtlety lives…” Rachael begins.

“You know what?” Stassi asks. “She could use some flash and sparkle.”

“I actually do agree with you, but for the purpose of this story, I disagree,” Rachael says. “So, Stassi is walking through, white hair, camel colored…”

“No! I will explain the dress,” Stassi jumps in. “It was an ivory sweater that was like a cape but long enough to be a dress that had fringe on it. Cashmere. With over-the-knee thigh-high suede camel boots and a matching camel bag.”

“So, we’re all getting ready to go to Kensington palace,” Jackie adds. “I’m in like a jean/sneaker combo, Rachael is looking cute in boots and tights, Stassi rolls up in a fucking cashmere poncho with leather fringe, with a white skirt underneath.”

“Ivory,” Stassi corrects her.

“Ivory, excuse me,” Jackie says. “Fucking eggshell. Ecru. Whatever.”

“And the white skirt was just to…” Stassi begins saying.

“To cover your labia,” Jackie cuts her off. “It is freezing cold, and it is the most aggressive outfit that Kensington Palace has ever seen.”

“Just picture white hair, white dress and skirt…” Rachael says.

“Thigh high boots, suede… Nobody does that in London,” Jackie says.

“Guys, that was such a cute outfit,” Stassi says. “I was so happy with it.”

“It was like a naughty Notting Hill Navajo princess,” Jackie says.

“It makes sense,” Rachael laughs. “We were saying earlier that we’re always dressed like a little bit of the porn version of something. Earlier today she was a porny school girl.”

“It was like I Googled, ‘Hogwartz British school girl porn,'” Stassi says.

“If you were doing Clueless porn, you would be the Cher Horowitz. WHOREowitz,” Jackie says, for emphasis.

“You know what I’m taking away from what you’re saying?” Stassi asks. “Jealousy. You are jealous of my outfit.”

“Not only were you wearing that outfit, but then we had to stage a photoshoot at Kensington Palace,” Rachael adds.

“Because if I don’t have a photo of the outfit,” Stassi says, “It never happened.”

Obvs this photo isn’t candid, but my outfit was cute & shit. Ps. That Chanel is from @tradesy… you’re welcome.

A post shared by Stassi Schroeder (@stassischroeder) on

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