It started off on Sunday.
I was freshly back from visiting the Family in the Great Northwest, and hadn't seen one of my best friends Shaleah in a while. So, we met up at Starbucks and dished out and soaked in all juicy gossip that needed to be spilled. Time flies when you're people watching at a Santa Monica Starbucks... But soon, it was time for us to go.
My wonderful pal Kara (my roomate and fellow American in Greece), and her boyfriend were visiting LA. It was a MUST to meet up with them. We started out catching up, when the sun was still shinning at a Cantina in West Hollywood. The cantina was a gay bar (obviously, due to it being in West Hollywood), and we met so many lovely gentlemen. There was one character in particular named ZAM, yes- Zam, he declared that he was Uber- Famous for being rich and crippled ( he had a cane), and not far from his side, at all times was his 6'6", 350 lb, black body guard who was wearing nail polish. After we went to a few different places, we hopped and skipped around the Ultimately Sketchy streets of Hollywood and concluded the evening at Mel's Diner, chowing down on some delicious eats.
Monday, Andrew came home from Detroit and We later met up with Kara and Eric and Chatted the night away at the Bar Marmount (linked to the Chateau Marmount), it was like we were all old pals. Finally everyone had met eachother and spent some quality time getting accquainted.
Why Cant I remember Tuesday? Maybe I had a castings I think? Hmm.
Wednesday, Oh Wednesday, it was quite the day.
It started off with a Casting in Tim-buck-two. It was for a denim company, I've never felt like the denim companies have ever had the hots for me.
Following the casting, I buzzed my way over to the Four Seasons in Beverly Hills. My Booker TJ called me on Tuesday night telling me that (U.S.) Vogue was shooting in LA, and I was the only girl they wanted and chose to fit all of the clothing on. He then went on to Exaggerate to me the importance of these People; Balenciaga's French stylist, Steven Miesel, and the Whole Vogue Team. So I arrived, and went up to the 15th floor... I was welcomed by a room filled with Christian Louboutin, Marni, Louis Vuitton, Marc Jacobs, YSL, And so on. I couldn't help but instantly question that one of the Vogue interns had taken up the hobby of hunting. There were hangers, and hangers, of all different dead animals left hung up to dry. Really- it was just a bunch of fur coats. My Favorite.....Not.
The main (balenciaga) stylist and her partner hadn't arrived yet, so I went down to the lobby and played that brickbreaker game on my blackberry....for an HOUR. yes, they were an hour late. Without actually knowing what these people looked like, I watched a tiny thin woman exit the 95 degree weather, and enter the spacious lobby of the Four Seasons dressed head-to-toe in black. Black skirt, black sweater, black tights, black fur coat... Oh, but she did have silver shoes. "They're here!" I thought to myself as they strutted their way to the front desk. Within minutes, I get a phone call telling me to come upstairs and get started. I knew it.
It all starts as I get naked in the changing room with Marc Jacobs (not Marc himself, but just one of his fabulous material offsprings). I then get my size 40 feet shoved into Some size 39 Christian Louboutin's (which supposedly run small and are equivilant to a size 38). The shoes are probably worth more than my rent and taller than the tires on my car. As I teeter back and forth in piles of clothing, while balancing in my too-small shoes, They try and compare me to the models that I am fitting for. I was mainly fitting for the model Coco Rocha. They aren't sure if she is as tall as me. Or is she? Or is she not? While I'm wondering if I still have any toes.
About an hour into the fitting I was in PAIN. I would like to take a minute to toot my own horn, in saying that I remain a fairly positive model. Models get put into very compromising positions, we are plucked and pried, shoved and tucked, but that's what we're paid for, so I just try and always remember this.
At a certain point, while I was crunched into these beautiful Louis Vuitton shoes, the seamstress was measuring the hem of the skirt, deciding how high, or how low should she go? Suddenly, I can't feel my legs. And my ears start ringing.
"Can I take these shoes of for just a second?" I ask.
My hearing goes out.
And I guess, shortly, the rest of me does too.
I wake up burried in my long brown fur coat and beautiful Marni dress. However, I am not wearing those damn shoes. instead, the French male stylist has my legs up in the air- elevated at a 90 degree angle, the seamstress has found another use of her paperwork and turned it into a fan and is fanning my face. The two Vogue interns have gotten some potato chips and Juice and placed then right beside me. "Everythings OK, you still look Beautiful!" is the first thing I hear, and the last thing I care about. My instant reflex is to at least put my legs down. Being that I was wearing a dress and my undergarments are visibly comparable to ( as my dad once said while doing my laundry when I was 15 years old, after discovering my first piece of thong underwear) dental floss or an eye patch. I'm thinking this guy has got a perfect veiw of what all of us ladies spend our whole lives mastering concealing. " Ooooh darling, don't worry, I am probably more girly that you are, don't worry honey". Mr. Frenchie assures me.
All I want to do is get up. It's like a bad dream.. I just keep on picturing TJ asking me about how everything went with all of these hyped up people, and how I will break it to him that I used their Fur coats as if they were bear skin rugs that I cuddled up with on the floor.
I probably told everyone that I was OK about seven times. Finally, they let me sit up, and feed me chips and Juice. The adorable hispanic seamstress Orders the interns to get a glass of water, and packets of sugar to pour into it for me to drink.
"Did you not hear me telling you to sit down?" Says balenciaga stylist lady ( I can't remember her name)
"Ooh no, my hearing was long gone by then, I think my vision was too!... ha..ha..(awkward laugh)"
"Ohh I told you that all of the color left your face and that you didn't look well! Next time if you feel bad sit down!"
All I want is for this to be over.
about 15 fur coats, and too many encounters with shoes that should only be looked at, and never be worn, I was done.
I was already late for a date.
Shaleah and I had planned to go to this event. Billabong Design for humanity; an art show, fashion show, a concert put on by MGMT, and DJ Steve Aoki to spin some tunes for us to dance the night away. I tell Shaleah that I am on my way and I will hurry home. I tell her about my fainting spell and she double checks my ability to go onward and forward with the night. I promise that I was done fainting for the day, and I wouldn't miss it for the world.
We had a blast. We were in our own little world dancing the night away. We made it front row for MGMT and later backstage and upstairs to hang with the band. We're starting to feel like groupies. But in a non slutty way. Shaleah's friend tours with the band so thats how we got invited back. The drummer Will and I discussed the reasoning behind the lead singer wearing nightgowns over his skinny jeans and workboots. I informed him that I believe my grandmother has the same exact night gown from Wal-Mart. As much fun as it is to be a pseudo groupie, Shaleah and I were hungry. We go to Mel's Diner ( I know, my 2nd time this week) and listen to some vintage tunes while getting our grub on. We retire at about 3:30am.
Thursday, I got to sleep. A lot. I then had a casting in Hollywood. While waiting for my turn I'm pretty sure I felt like I was watching one of those VH1 marathon's of America's Next Top Model. There were more girls from that show there at once than I have ever seen. Usually you see a few here and there, but there were a ton. That once crazy broad Jael wasn't going to let anyone NOT notice her. I now know her plans for the next five years of her life. I got to go home and sleep some more. And I believe andrew and I concluded the evening with a trip to whole foods.
Friday. I worked at Red Bull from 7am until 11am. I'm finally back to working there whenver I can. I love working there, the people I work with are great, the job allows you to actually use a bit of your brain. It's good. So after I left Red Bull at 11, I head over to a Photoshoot that I have at noon. Everybody at the shoot was extremely cool, laid back. I end up finishing the shoot around 8:00pm. My booker TJ shows up and we play catch up for a little bit, since we haven't seen eachother since before I was sick.
During the shoot I get a text message from Andrew telling me he's got box seats for the Dodgers game which starts at 7:30. I tell him I'm going to be a little late but I'm in. Vince, Shaleah and Andrew end up meeting me at my car in Downtown LA. And we made it to the game fastly and furiously. Since I didn't know beforehand that I was going to be attending a Dodgers game, I was the only one in our crowd without any LA Dodgers gear on - besides Shaleah (who lived in Chicago for years), who was wearing a cubs T Shirt. I meander into the gift shop and buy a big blue #1 Fan hand. I slip my hand into the big block of foam, walk up to the cashier, hold my Giant Pointer finger in the air, and say " I'll take one of these!!!" No one laughed at my joke besides the cashier lady. (Get it?!?! The hand is saying "1" too, so instead of using my real hand to show how many I want, I use my new fake hand to tell her with a show of fingers how many I'd like to buy. funny?! right?!) It was a great night, a great time, and a great game...The Dodgers won! Sorry Shaleah!
The world Welcomed me to Saturday at 3 O' Clock PM. I think there still are some remnants of my mono that are lingering behind which encourage me to catch any Zzz's that I can. Later on, a friend is having a BBQ over near melrose. So we head over and hang out for about 4 hours. Soo much fun. It finally is reallly starting to feel like summer! Since the BBQ was right off of Melrose, that can only mean one thing... Pinkberry! So Andrew and I make our way over to Pinkberry and Share the Usual. When we get home, we decide to bust out the Guitar Hero. I am considerably better than him, and I've got a speedy improvement rate. I end up odering us Pizza. And not much longer after that, It was time I pass the "eff" out!
Good bye week. It was wonderful. I truly had a wonderful time. I am anxious to see what this next one brings. Another blog made up of 87 paragraphs? Lets hope.
Or not.
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