“I’m a motivational speaker,” she says, and it’s hard to tell exactly how serious she is.
A little bit, at least: In recent months, she’s given a college lecture, where she tried to reframe the idea of female sexuality to impressionable young men.
It’s become her crusade—her post-Kanye-and-Wiz raison d’être. I have a beautiful son, two assistants, lawyers, business managers, management, and access to pretty much whatever I want,” she says. I do feel more comfortable with someone who’s living up to par with me.”As social lubricants go, cigarettes are out of fashion.
She’s cultivated an activist streak, organizing an official Amber Rose–branded version of the Slut Walk, a march in protest of the societal forces that punish women for dressing sexily. “But I don’t give a fuck,” Rose says as we settle into the plastic chairs by her pool; Sebastian is playing inside with his grandmother. I’ll get through this whole pack.” Rose is good at creating a sense of intimacy, often calling people she’s just met “babe” or “honey”: “Need a light, babe? ” Calling Amber Rose hot is like saying caviar is a good source of protein: It’s technically true, but insufficient to capture her unique, otherworldly perfection.
At the event earlier this month, she broke down in tears telling the crowd her story, saying she wanted to forgive her famous exes for tearing her down before confessing: “It still hurts. It still fucking hurts.” And now she’s publishing her manifesto: a self-help guide called , 256 pages of memoir and motivational stem-winding for Rose-minded aspirants. “I love smoking.” This is the first of maybe a hundred times I’ll hear her say she doesn’t give a fuck, or has stopped giving a fuck. Rose is one of the few women in history who was meant to walk the earth with her head shaved.