Hello world! It’s me, Jazper—the retired Twitter celebrity formerly known as @BOYTWEETSWORLDX and Internet’s most-trusted, purple heart, party-crashing veteran—here to give you my annual report on all the wild crazy shit I got into this year. For the uninitiated, five years ago I first broke the story on Coachella parties—a weekend circuit of elite, invite-only, wined-dined-pampered-and-swagged-TF-out, brand-sponsored events—which I proclaimed a veritable “Influencer’s Paradise” existing outside Coachella proper. Since the fest has become an uncomfortable, soul-sucking money pit I can’t justify spending my money on going into my 30s—my first Coachella fest was 10 years ago—I’ve avoided mainstream Coachella altogether, and have been happily party-hopping for y’all every year since.
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This year I didn’t die, THANK GOD, but still had to rely on my old tricks (safekept in my Away carry-on) and the power of divergent thinking to find the third door in, since, in our Capitalist consumer society, these brand spons would rather invite buzz celebs to boost their brand ethos than have a journalist live to tell the real life story FOR THE PEOPLE. Lucky for all of you… I CRASHED, I CONQUERED, I MELTED, and she’s still in one piece!
If there’s one phrase to encapsulate this year’s Coachella parties for me, it’s the act of being “MELTED.” What is this silly colloquialism you ask? Let me enlighten you.After the parties, I caught a 2003 clip from Treal TV with legendary Bay Area hyphy rapper Mac Dre defining “MELTED” as: (1) “beyond butter,” and (2) “comin’ way too clean.” I’ve come to adopt this term to describe the smooth but powerful flex that only an anointed, resilient, and savvy casanova masterfully adept at the art of finessing is capable of. Within the context of Coachella, “MELTED” expresses both the phenomena of: (1) the supernatural state that overcomes a thotiana like me when my physical being literally melts with the brand-activated magic desert festival energy, enabling me to manifest all that I need, and (2) the agonizing comedown once one returns to reality of their life back home.As I sit at my cubicle in Hollywood on 0.0 hours of sleep, arms covered to the elbows in wristbands, I struggle to maintain the waking consciousness necessary to recap all the events I made it to on my most recent journey gallivanting through the desert. Making delirious small talk with co-workers in passing, each in various states of the vicious post-fest comedown, one phrase becomes our unifying battle cry, after which no other words need be spoken: “WE’RE MELTED!!!” (Thanks Patty in Marketing for the $13 pressed juice, the spoiled L.A. Influencer brat in me needs every sip of this ginger for my immunity and ego.)
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Here’s what went down.
NTWRK presents Juice WRLD x Suzuki Death Race For Love
Rolling Stone x Dope Roots Harvest House of Cannabis
Galore x The Creme Shop Desert Beauty Oasis
CÎROC Summer House
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5th Annual Zoe Report ZoeAsis
NYLON x Booksmart Midnight Garden
Poppy x Google Midnight Bloom
After clawing my way through the crowds of bottle service fuccboi fuckery, I broke onstage attempting to sneak a pic with Thugger. Shortly after, Virgil Abloh did a surprise closing DJ set for The Culture, during which I pulled a Travis Scott/Tory Lanez and climbed a lighting rig, hanging above the DJ booth moshing my balls off (still waiting for someone to send me this footage but everyone is MELTED).
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T-Mobile x Pandora Indio Invasion
The 4th Annual REVOLVE Festival
Framework x Wynn Nightlife Art Of The Wild
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Taking a short Lyft ride from Zenyara to the green-lit villa estate venue for Cash App, I was driven by Deonte, a Black entrepreneur who created his Tap Inn app in Nipsey Hussle’s Crenshaw co-working space Kulture Hub. In the spirit of Coachella, I MELTED my Neon Carnival wristie off my arm and blessed Deonte so he could continue the marathon.
Cash App Dome
With the most authentic brand concept that included a 360-gif booth complete with counterfeit money guns and an old school graffitied ATM machine, Cash App MELTED this year’s party scene.