We know we don't usually post about Jullison. It's hard to type her name. Her skin looks really good. She irritates us. But damn, girl knows how to threaten national security by sneaking behind the velvet rope at1600 Pennsylvania Ave. Follow these simple steps.-
The background: The Washington Post's Reliable Source reports that Julasdlfkl; (as we call her, while banging our head on the keyboard) managed to sneak into the 2007 White House Correspondent's Association dinner, which she was reporting on for HuffPo but to which she was definitely not invited. Here's how she did it.
1. Only crash when there is a bumbling or unpopular prez in office. Would this work today? No, because people are protective of Obama. Looking back, everyone was sort of like, "Oh, Dubya's in the basement eating paint chips again? He'll be fine!" or "Eh, I'm pretty sure that even if Dubya takes the toaster in the tub with him, he'll pull through!" It was a different era.
2. Only crash if you are young and hot. "Crashing is a young person's sport," Julasdlfkl; wearily tells the Post.
Now that Julia is wizened and aged, she actually gets invited to White House Correspondent's Association dinners, like the 2009 fete shown here. As an invited guest, she pals around with Madeline Albright and Donatella Versace with impunity.
3. Pull out the sass. Act like you belong. As Little J. eloquently explains: "It's walking with purpose. You don't want to lie. You just want to act as if, 'of course, I'm just walking in.'"
4. Look cute and hang out in the hallway. That's where Julasdlfkl; says the party is. It helps if you're palling around with Arianna Huffington while doing so.
5. Are you paying attention? This is the really important part: FIND COLIN POWELL AND PRETEND TO BE HIS SECRET MISTRESS. Yes, J.A. noticed that the ex Secretary of State was alone, and so she simply shadowed him through security and past the doormen.
6. Steal other people's seats. Huffington at first let Julasdlfkl; borrow hers, and later Julasdlfkl; snuck into the vacant seat of Hillary Clinton's press secretary, Philippe Reines.
7. Realize that people with the first name "Philippe" are probably total pushovers. When Reines returned to his place, he didn't kick the pretty brunette off his chair. Instead, he let her sit on his lap (literally, according to J.A.'s blog) and introduced her to Condi Rice. "This was the funniest, sweetest thing," coos Julasdlfkl; to the Post. Somewhere, Philippe Reines is cursing the name of Julasdlfkl;, for he will never live this down.
Unfortunately, crashing will not make the people whom you're trying to interview for your Huffpo article talk to you. Jullison wrote after the gala (without mentioning her Sneaky McSlyface tactics) that when she asked Maureen Dowd to reminisce about WHCDs past, Dowd gave her the brush off. The journalist claimed that she "couldn't think of anything clever" but that Jullison could "get back to her later." Nor did Allison's illicit entrance make that year's Rich Little routine any funnier, or erase the shame of having made a "Bedtime for Bonzo" joke in her write-up.
And voila. Except. Well. We hesitate to rain on this parade but, um, um, um, this isn't actually party-crashing. Party crashing is when you dress like a waiter but have a sequined dress under your TGIFriday's-type get-up, and pull a Superman-change in kitchen's walk-in fridge. It's when you explode an empty Volvo down the block in order to distract security so that you can slip in the side door. It's when you scale a fence with a pillowcase full of jerky tied around your waist so that you can pacify the guard dogs you encounter. Party crashing is not when Arianna Effing Huffington invites you to cover an event and then says, "Oops, you don't have a ticket! Whatevs, I'm Arianna Effing Huffington. We'll think of something." As Jullison herself points out a bit defensively, she was at the site in the first place for a reporting job . . . and the word "job" has no place in the same article as "party crashing."
[Photos via NonSociety.com]