This past summer, I wrote a little somethin’ on the slew of cool downtown L.A. boutiques for LA Magazine. And I got to follow up the story with a segment on ABC’s Eye On L.A. I thank my mother and the man who once sold me bootleg ADD medication for being the only people to send me congratulatory texts after the show aired.
I will live here one day
I just got back from spending eight days in Palm Springs, where I was covering Fashion Week El Paseo for Palm Springs Life Magazine. Sure, it wasn’t Lanvin. But the week of shows, which this year included presentations from Trina Turk, Oliver Tolentino and Saks Fifth Avenue, among others, is truly the standard of how consumer-focused fashion shows should be done. Pop-up shops in the lobby. Passed Hors d’oeuvres from local eateries. Special VIP ticketholder events. Kind of nice to be around people who are truly excited for the fashion that they’re about to see (and eventually buy), instead of with the jaded journos and industry players I’m usually with at these things (not that I don’t love my jaded friends and their geniusly biting commentary).
Anyway, I truly love the desert and have decided that I would like to add a mid-century modern abode to the stable of wishlist properties I plan on owning one day (a Spanish-style casa in the hills of Los Feliz and San Francisco pied-à-terre are part of the plan, too). And this one, which was designed by Donald Wexler for Dinah Shore in 1963, is ridiculously ridiculous. Imagine the Milo Baughman furniture that could fill this baby (to replace the cheesy European design warehouse-style shit that sadly fills it now) and the unreal parties that could be had by this pool.
Granted we’re in a crap market right now and it’s a bit pricey ($5,995,000 to be exact) but I’m guessing it will be snatched up by a lucky buyer long before I’m able to write a check.
Here’s hoping it goes back on the market in a few years when I’ve either A. Become a super successful author B. Am making steady millions from my media business C. Have locked down a smart, handsome, self-made man who shares my love for mountains and floor-to-ceiling windows (or, rather, he’s locked me down) or D. All of the above.
D sounds about right. I can’t wait.
Shameless self promotion: WWDMagic edition
Ok, not that shameless — this is my personal website, after all. But it has in fact been a very busy couple of months filled with a lot of cool happenings that I’m extremely proud to share.
First up is the WWDMagic trade show in Las Vegas that took place over Valentines Day week, which I attended after being chosen as one of 30 correspondents as part of the Teen Vogue Bloggers Lounge. Talk about feeling honored. It was an amazing display of the melding of new media and journalism, corporate content production and how bloggers can actually contribute so much more to the fashion industry than mere street style photos. It was such a fun few days running around like a mad person discovering new, cool lines, talking to showroom reps, interviewing the people who make the show happen and speaking about the business of blogging on a panel with influential bloggers including Jane Aldridge. And the content that I created was aggregated on the WWDMagic Tumblr blog and official website, which was a great way to get eyeballs on Style Section L.A. — which, as you probably know, is pretty much my main goal in life at the moment. I’ve been asked to come cover the show again in August, and am totally pumped.
And in a completely weird other-side-of-the-recorder situation, people actually wanted to interview me because of all this. Here are links to interviews I did with the official WWDMagic blog, Disarray Magazine and StyleBistro.com. Weird, wild stuff indeed.
And, as an aside, it was pretty damn dope to see Style Section L.A.’s name on press passes. That is all.
Happy four year anniversary to me
Four years ago I moved to L.A. after planning my escape from suburban Chicago for as long as I could remember. And I’m not sure that anything will ever match the elation I felt upon stepping outside of LAX and seeing my father waiting for me in my car. As in, my car with Illinois license plates that had been filled with my crap and shipped to California earlier that week.
I finally live here, I thought. And I will always remember my stomach doing the kind of flips usually reserved for falling in love.
I had no job, no money and one friend. And I didn’t care.
I would spend the next few weeks exploring, sending out resumes and figuring out how to find people that would be fun to go drinking with.
My second weekend in town, I managed to wrangle together a crew and go out to da club, where I was promptly greeted with a run-in involving Andy Dick. A few weeks later I scored an internship with Imitation of Christ that I found on Craigslist. And right after that I found myself discovering the joys of snowboarding when you’ve never snowboarded before — and how genius pain pills actually are when used as directed and not because it’s just a standard Tuesday night (and yes, my tailbone can still sense impending rain).
Of course there were the days I would drive around aimlessly for no reason other than wanting to get out of the house (which I totally still do as a head-clearing measure). And there were the times when I would have to cancel plans with new friends due to lack of funds (those unpaid Craigslist internships don’t afford one the luxury of dinners out and, in particularly dry times, the gas to get to the restaurant). But I still somehow managed to remain completely blissful in cheesy anticipation of whatever the next day would bring.
It’s a feeling and a mind state that I desperately miss.
But a couple weeks ago, when I happened to be having the kind of day that makes one wish they lived in a tree in Berkley, I remembered that moment when I first stepped off the airplane and wondered why I couldn’t reclaim some of that magic that seemed to be all around me four years ago. So I started to make a list of every awesome memory I could conjure since first becoming an official transplant in hopes it would remind me to stop complaining and, quite frankly, shut the fuck up.
So here are my top 50 favorite memories since I moved to L.A., in no particular order. I’m sure there are quite a few that deserve to be in there that aren’t. I’m sure there are quite a few more that I don’t remember ever happening (which is why they were awesome in the first place, obviously).
After looking at the list, I can’t wait for the next 50.
1. The very first time I saw my name printed in the Los Angeles Times.
2. The day during my internship that my friend Randi and I covered a Vogue book party in Beverly Hills before dining at the Olive Garden, saying “holy shit” the entire meal.
3. The night I hung out at Andy Dick’s house.
4. My friend Chad DJing the New Year’s Eve party I threw at my apartment a few weeks back.
5. Interviewing Christian Louboutin and meeting James Galanos in the same day.
6. Working backstage at Imitation of Christ’s fall 2009 fashion show.
7. Seeing an Olsen at the Imitation of Christ fall 2009 fashion show after party.
8. The summer night I once slow danced to Stevie Wonder with a boy from Paris in someone’s back yard.
9. Watching Fourth of July fireworks at the Malibu Beach Inn with two of my best friends from Chicago.
10. Watching the sun set at a Valley-facing lookout point on Mulholland Drive, 40 oz. beer in hand.
11. Asking Craig “Daryl from the Warehouse” Robinson to please call my best friend Leah and wish her a happy birthday, which he totally did.
12. Labor Day weekend road trip to San Francisco.
13. Being picked up from LAX in the same car I was driving in Chicago just three days before.
14. Spending $75 of his company’s money to overnight a letter to Sam Zell — who just happened to graduate from my high school — explaining why I deserved to keep my job at his newspaper.
15. Stalking the Dodgers locker room and harassing Manny Ramirez for a quote.
16. Signing the lease on my Los Feliz apartment.
17. The evening I got my box of Style Section L.A. business cards.
18. When Booth Moore responded to my e-mail.
19. Enjoying the breakfast buffet at the Beverly Hilton with my college friend Beth. 20. Seeing Angelyne at the Coffee Bean.
21. Driving from San Francisco to Napa with Leah, my college roommate, and belting Celine Dion.
22. Driving through the In-N-Out drive-through belting “Honey You Are My Shining Star,” also with Leah.
23. Driving from L.A. to Santa Ana in the rain at 5:30 a.m. to catch a flight to Utah for Sundance.
24. Standing on a beach in Malibu, staring at the ocean, one Thanksgiving Day.
25. The moment that the New York subway system made sense to me while I was there for Fashion Week in August, 2008.
26. The first party I ever covered when I was an intern for Angeleno. It was a Women in Film dinner at the Beverly Hilton, I was seated at Kristin Chenoweth’s table and yes, I thought I was going to vomit on her because of nerves.
27. Seeing Kanye West perform at a party in Griffith Park back when I had no idea what Griffith Park even was.
28. The first time I saw the view from the top of Runyon Canyon.
19. Discovering a parking lot full of $10 vintage dresses.
20. Camping on a Ventura County beach one July 4th and falling asleep amid waves and moonlight.
21. A particularly fun Saturday night at an underground after hours bar on the outskirts of downtown L.A.
22. Hanging out on the deck at the midcentury modern, Sunset Plaza house in the hills where my friend Jake used to crash.
23. Drinking absinthe in front of a fireplace at 3 a.m.
24. The 12 hour span that included watching a Clippers game from a skybox at Staples, meeting a cute guy, eating cheap—but—perfect Greek food, seeing Marty and Elaine perform for the first time and enjoying morning eggs at the Beverly Hills Hotel Coffee Shop.
25. Leaving a rooftop houseparty to get In-N-Out across the street, and returning to said party with a burger and fries (both animal style, of course).
26. Going to the Yamashiro Farmer’s Market on a perfect August night with my first genuine friend in L.A., Alexis.
27. Drinking beer and playing crazy eights at the Farmers Market on Fairfax in the middle of a work day.
28. My first pirate season.
29. The time my friend Jen picked oranges from the tree in her backyard and squeezed them into some vodka.
30. The day I realized I didn’t need Google Maps to use freeways to get to Brentwood from Los Feliz.
31. Sitting on a Duffy boat in Newport Harbor enjoying platters of sushi, lobster and champagne left over from a photo shoot.
32. Watching the sun set from the top of the ferris wheel at the Santa Monica Pier.
33. Watching the sun set from a coastal plane ride from San Francisco to L.A.
34. The day I discovered my favorite thrift store in the world.
35. The time I had a candle-lit dinner date at the French restaurant at the Farmer’s Market.
36. My solo trip to Santa Barbara for lunch and a visit to the art museum.
37. The time my friend Kathryn went to Mexico and brought back a newspaper where one of my articles had been syndicated.
38. Flying to Chicago for a wedding and getting to fly back home to L.A.
39. Being rescued off the bunny hill in Mammoth by an animator who worked at Disney, and then going right back up and making it back down all by myself.
40. The day I realized I could walk away from things that don’t make me happy and, someday at least, be absolutely fine.
41. The perfect Palm Springs night that I had dinner at the Viceroy outside by the pool.
42. The day that Barneys contacted me about advertising on Style Section L.A.
43. Making new friends at a Snoop Dogg concert.
44. Sitting on my couch in my Koreatown apartment drinking Scotch the day all my furniture finally arrived from Chicago.
45. The evening my boss told me I should move to New York if I wanted to write about fashion.
46. The day my parents officially moved to L.A. and my dog — who had never left Chicago — got to pee on a palm tree.
47. Driving to Ikea my second day in town while listening and dancing to Tupac’s “California Love” on the radio.
48. The day I realized that material things aren’t the source of my happiness after all.
49. When an editor from Vogue complimented my shoes.
50. Today, because while a blizzard is raging through Chicago I am wearing a short dress and boots, writing a freelance piece that will pay my rent, realizing that despite being piss poor and confused, I’m doing exactly what I came here to do four years ago. And it feels kind of awesome.
A few friends of mine started a cool website called inthemo.com, which is a social network of sorts that helps users find the best bars, restaurants and shops in cities throughout the world — mostly using video. It’s really impressive — they have a huge compound in Brentwood, their users already number in the thousands and they have over 50 people on staff. Not bad for a start up (does that even constitute a start up anymore?). I’m quite humbled that they asked little ol’ me to appear in one of them, and am very grateful for the amazing shout out I was able to give to my own little slice of start up heaven.
And for the record, I don’t usually prance along the beach in heels. I’m not a Kardashian, after all.
I love Los Feliz.
