A STORY ABOUT OUR FAVORITE PORNO NAZI, BIANCA TRUMP

As the Italian Princess of Porn, she stood atop a pile of sweaty money and hairless bodies, bragging of her mansion, her wine cellar, and the legion of adoring fans that followed the every move of one of America’s most notorious sex starlets.
As "tattoogirl1488," her ink-covered body staggered from slum to slum through America’s white heartland, in a subculture where "Kill a Queer for Christ" is still a rallying call. She waved her angry finger at the niggers, the heebs and the homosexual perverts dragging down wholesome, white American values, while pining for a man worth cooking, cleaning and raising lots of Hitler Youth for.

What a difference a year makes.

It was in just over a year that Bianca Trump, an impossibly buxom pin-up model and B-list porn actress, degenerated into Wendy Iwanow, neo-Nazi tattoo artist and hanger-on in America’s white racist underground. Iwanow (her true name) was arrested on an outstanding warrant for forgery on November 7, 2003 in the company of Aryan Nations’ fuehrer Richard Butler when her name was run at the airport in Spokane, Washington. Butler claimed he had no idea that his whip-smart Eva Braun had once used her art and her silicone-enhanced figure in Judaeophile vehicles such as the seminal Creme de la Face, Rent-a-Butt, and that Ku Klux Klan blockbuster, Little White Girl, Big Black Man.

Porn stars, as a rule, do not go on to live happy lives once they become too old (usually, 30) or overexposed to entice jaded consumers with a box-cover pose. Some get married and are never heard from again. Some extend their careers as full-time professional escorts for gradually declining rates. Some hang on in the industry and become successful owners or directors or movers behind the scenes.

Bianca Trump, on the other hand, endured a quick, spectacular, and well-documented flame-out. In just under a year, she went from a high-priced escort and South Florida tabloid superstar to a bitch for the Aryan Nations.

SCREAM QUEEN

Spokane was where it ended and where it began. In 1992, Wendy Iwanow was a house dancer in a Washington strip club when she was spotted by the boyfriend of a popular model who acted as an instant, somewhat dodgy "agent." Creatures like these are a dime a dozen in the porn industry, where their reliance on the violation of their beloved’s orifices and their aptitude for luggage handling has given them the irresistible tag of "suitcase pimps."

Wendy later told Hustler that the "agent" booked her for some magazine work in Los Angeles, but ran away with her money. Stranded in a strange city, she dragged her considerable assets for barter to the gatekeeper of the modern porn industry, Jim South of World Modeling. With a nom de porn chosen either for her class or her gravity-defying "towers," Bianca Trump was born.

Bianca went on to star in 250 videos over the next eight years. To capitalize on her assets, she pumped up her breasts to unreal proportions, and marked up her rate for escorting with wealthy fans and hobbyists accordingly.

By knocking boots and providing a "porn star experience" to wealthy johns, most actresses can more than quadruple their earnings from films alone. Most porn star prostitutes are discreet, posting ads in free alternative weeklies or advertising exclusively by word of mouth. Trump, on the other hand, flaunted her extracurricular activities as a human sponge. In 1994, she appeared on the Jerry Springer Show in Chicago as Hollywood’s premiere "porn star madam." She said she was smarter than Heidi Fleiss and with her retinue of porn actresses could bank in the six figures. Appearances on the Jenny Jones Show and other daytime television staples followed. She also appeared on Howard Stern’s radio show as well as his E! Channel broadcast, where she was mocked by the radio crew for being too heavy and not pretty enough to match her four-figure companionship fee. The show later became legendary among rabid Stern fans: Bianca actually burst into tears.

Bianca’s first run-in with the law came on a prostitution charge in Pompano Beach, Florida in 1995. Later that same year, one of Trump’s tricks, Michael Beaulieu, claimed Trump and several large men had broken into his home and stolen cash he had on hand. He had stored the money in a pile of newspapers, which Trump had seen him move when he paid her for her services. Trump was eventually found not guilty at a jury trial.

Trump hit the internet in 1998, hawking herself on her website as "the Italian Princess of Porn" (she had earlier gone by the appellation of "the Latin Princess of Porn," based on her dark skin; Iwanow’s true background is a mix of several European ethnicities). She clashed in USENET groups with fans, critics, and a retired porn star (and USENET superstar in her own right), Brandy Alexandre. At times their flame war spilled out of the digital world and into real life, with anonymous remailers deployed to reveal Trump’s arrest record and Alexandre’s place of employment.

At one time, Trump claimed she was making more than $1,200 per hour from prostitution. A subscription to her website, biancatrump.com, billed at $40 per month. From a server in Los Angeles, the reader could link to a variety of webcams set up in her home in West Palm Beach, Florida.

Trump liked to brag that she lived in a mansion. "We are one of the most affluent neighborhoods in the country," she told porn scribe Luke Ford. "I live blocks from Donald Trump." Well, not quite. Her palatial old house at 3916 Westview was located in a neighborhood which had gone into deep decline from its heyday in the 1920s. Through urban decay, the Anglo-Saxon element had long since diminished and the neighbourhood was now dominated by minorities.

Trump clashed with her neighbours over boundary lines and the like. The Palm Beach Post and other papers documented the civil war between the white porn star and her black neighbors, which resulted in more than 140 calls to 9-1-1 and precisely zero arrests. The fight eventually spilled over into vandalism and brutal violence. In the conflict, Trump seems to have given as good as she got, until she was beaten up by several black neighbors. The story became one of those small town incidents destined for the annals of local history, with a number of local newspapers and alternative weeklies writing largely sympathetic accounts of the porn star that tried to fix her up community.

After the mob assault, Trump swore she would file suit against the police (for failing to protect her) and her neighbours, but missed most of the court dates. In November 2001, she filed for bankruptcy protection and placed her home up for auction.

On August 14, 2002 at 1:45 am, a SWAT team deployed around her home after neighbours reported hearing shots fired inside her home. Trump later told the New Times Broward-Palm Beach that the incident was "overblown"; in fact, the stand-off continued until early the next morning, when she was led away for monitoring at a local psychiatric hospital.

A few months later, Trump moved out of the Westview Street house for a new property bought with her boyfriend in Fort Pierce, Florida. Both were later sold.

As of February 2003, when the New Times rehashed the Trump vs. the World story, Bianca still made most of her living through prostitution, trading primarily on her name and notoriety (she had once been "honoured," if you can call it that, as the "Most Outrageous Guest" in the history of the Jenny Jones Show.) She told the reporter she was giving herself a deadline of May 15, 2003 to get out of the skin trade.

"The last two – make that 12 – years have been a crazy roller-coaster ride for Iwanow," the New Times wrote with an appropriate swell of violins, "and now she says she looks forward to just being normal." She wanted to escape Florida and Bianca Trump as well.

She was now Wendy Iwanow, and from being the proprietor of "1 corporation, 1 website, 1 car, 1 house," as she once told a discerning audience on USENET, she took up the study of tattoo artistry. She was off her back, though her hourly rates had predictably declined by a magnitude of a hundred.

Her sideshow appearances on Jerry Springer’s carnival of the damned had been doubly prophetic. By May of 2003, as she predicted, Wendy had left the skin trade altogether – for the skinheads.

UNDER THE SHEET

"Single and Jaded." That was the title of a personals ad Wendy Iwanow left on the message boards of stormfront.org, one of the main chat sites of the White Power movement on the Internet, in June 2003. "I am heading to Indiana Monday with the Hossier [recte – Hoosier] Skins to tattoo at SS.

Back to the country the girl goes. You can take the girl out of the country, but not the country out of the girl. If ya’ll don’t know about Indiana yet, or the Hoosier Skins, you should.

Wendy had split with her Florida boyfriend in Fort Pierce the previous November. Per the usual pattern, police were called, restraining orders filed, court dates blown off or forgotten about when a new crisis took precedence. Then, on a spur of the moment, Wendy took off for Chicago, moving into a South Loop loft with one of the city’s fair-skinned, anonymous racists.

An aspiring tattoo artist can hardly go wrong by hooking on with the White Power movement. Living by a motto of Pabst Blue Ribbon and Oi!, their bodies are cobalt blue canvases dedicated to Hitler, sad but resilient eagles and Mom. What they lack in potential customers they certainly make up for in ever-expanding cellulite.

Upon her arrival in the famed City of Broken Shoulders, Wendy hit the local tattoo parlours, but had trouble convincing the proprietors to give her a chance without going through what would have been her second apprenticeship. A trip to the Jade Dragon and other body art factories didn’t turn up anyone who remembered her, however. In a post on Stormfront, Wendy lambasted the "muds" and other non-whites that congregated there.

"I personally wouldn’t do a swastika on someone’s arm," one of the main artists at Jade Dragon tells us. "But they might find someone here that might. They’re not different than the gang members that come in. We can’t stop doing cobra artwork just because it’s used by the Gangster Disciples."

As we leave the parlour, the same artist chases us down the street. "Umm," he says, nearly out of breath, "don’t use my name for this, alright?"

SKINS AND STONES

One would have a hard time imagining why a self-respecting racist – and especially Wendy Iwanow – would pick a neighbourhood like the South Loop to live in. Formerly a warehouse district on the lower fringe of Chicago’s commercial downtown, the South Loop is in the process of heavy gentrification – just like 3916 Westview in West Palm Beach, Florida. Old buildings are being converted to lofts. The blacks and hispanics watching the make-over understandably wonder if they’re next.

Nobody’s home in Wendy’s old apartment, which is probably just as well. It’s 7 degrees outside, Eddie’s hacking off the flu, and Cali, despite years of martial arts, still can’t walk right, much less fight, in a new pair of shoes. We tried to look tough, but succeeded only in looking gay.

A neighbour hears Eddie suffering on a piece of lung and cracks the door open. Initially nervous, she eventually warms to us. The guy with the short hair just moved out not long ago, she said. Yes, she remembers the short girl with the black hair and glasses. She was always so rude. She listened to obnoxious music (the aforementioned Oi!) at all hours and was always inviting over dangerous looking young men. Her name was Wendy.

The trail died there. Another personals ad – a plea for "sisterly companionship" on Stormfront – couldn’t save another busted relationship. After less than two months in the city, Wendy was on the move again.

THE PASTORFUERHER AND THE PORN STAR

A week later, Wendy wrote what was a virtual recruiting pamphlet for her new pals in Indiana. "It would be nice if more people moved out here," she purred.

Women, children, families, men. My understanding of it is that if the men looking to be involved in the crew their [sic] are some requirements. No drama, no pussy whipped, no mouth runners, must be solid, they must get to know you first, must put the brothers ahead of everyone. Those are all I can help with. You would have to contact me to get you in touch with one of the guys if interested. I just wanted everyone to know that it is super cool here, a solid group of guys, and a great little white town. I hope to see more aware people relocating here in the future. If nothing else come to the party they are having on the 31st. BE THERE!

BIANCA TRUMP, TOP, AND HER ALTER EGO, WENDY IWANOWWendy also posted a picture of herself on Stormfront. The transformation of the luscious Bianca Trump into the mousy, heavily-inked Wendy is astonishing.

The Hoosier State Skins might have been "super cool," but soon they had enough of her, too. Wendy wandered through the fringe of the White Power movement in the last half of 2003, from Chicago to Indiana to Arizona to the Aryan Nations’ compound in Hadley, Idaho. Burning through the Midwest, she used a stolen gas station card and allegedly drew a check out for cash, both of which are believed to have been the origins of the forgery charges against her.

She was in Phoenix to help with the Aryan Nations’ annual ho-down. Then – again, on a whim – she left, this time pointing her car due north, back to where it all began. She’d visit Idaho and pay homage to Pastor Richard Butler, the Aryan Nations’ ancient, twisted anti-Christ in clerical garb. She hit the compound just in time to help out with his mayoral campaign. Then it was off to visit her family in Washington. She was on her way back to Arizona with the Good Father when the airline ran a routine background check on her, and an employee spotted the outstanding warrants. Pastor Butler was scandalized. He wasn’t just traveling with a wanted felon (typical enough, though Wendy didn’t have the glamour of having taken down a nigger for the cause), but one whose ink in the tabloids rivaled only the ink in her back. Like a good comrade, she’d take the fall.

THE TAMING OF WENDY

The exposure of Wendy Iwanow’s past shocked everyone. Anti-racist watchdog groups found the whole thing hilarious, particularly the vexations of rage that seized Iwanow’s former colleagues.

"You know," one Germanic fellow named "Fritz" editorialized, "the animalistic and often egocentric negroids use the saying to refer to our white women who have sex with them[:] ‘Once you go black you’ll never go back.’ Well, despite her supposed Italian heritage, I firmly follow the tenet ‘Once you go black we won’t LET you come back!’"

Richard Butler’s bodyguard released a statement claiming that the pastor "has always helped all who asked, even if it was the last dime in his pocket. This has caused him problems in the past, because some people he tries to help will deceive him with lies and take advantage of his good will. [sic] Wendy is just one more such person to add to that list. She had only been staying in Idaho a few days, helping around the house and also helping to get everything ready for the Aryan Nations[‘] rally in Arizona."

But the reaction from racists and anti-racists was the same. Wendy was a piece of trash – not because of her extensive resumé on the TV talkshow circuit, but simply because of how she’d made her living. And none of her highly publicized (and, according to several former friends in the adult industry, highly fictional) escorting adventures or the other salacious details of her past life as Bianca Trump came to light.

Before leaving Phoenix for Idaho, Wendy had gone out for a night on the town with a trucker named Jeremy, who is an Aryan Nations’ leader in Arizona, and some schmuck who later posted his account of that night on slashdot.org. His rambling tirade is an absolutely fascinating read: an insider’s account of what life as a piece of racist human garbage is really all about:

Me and jeremy kicked some mexican out [of a bar] because he was being rude to someone. And some girl started a verbal thing with jeremy and [Wendy and Jeremy] both ended up cursing her out, i was too drunk to say anything so she came up to me and started talking to me about god knows what. I dont have a clue what she or I said. Eventually we all left, started throwing shopping carts in the street and pissing on cars and whatnot… who the hell knows. I dont remember much except when jeremy and me picked up shopping carts and heaved em into the road then laughing hysterically. Jeremy is cool as hell.

That’s the grind-a-day routine of this former porn kitten. Once critiqued by porn enthusiasts as a "cum-dodger," the Artist Formerly Known as Bianca now embarked on a lifestyle as a "pee-dodger."

Bianca Trump, a low-brow publicity machine for herself when she was reviled on television talk shows from coast to coast, is still awaiting trial as this article went to publication. She’s been unable to communicate via her preferred medium of message boards, though after the tongue-lashing she’s received (and the scolding, too), it’s unlikely she would be welcomed back by her former mates.

The shopping cart prankster quoted above zipped up his pants and came to the conclusion that Wendy "absolutely uses men for whatever purpose they can be used for."

Human garbage in, human garbage out.

FROM http://www.diacritica.com/sobaka/ 

THANKS TO TESTA FOR FINDING THIS  

Leave a Reply