I Love LA

I'm in LA, and I have to say, I kinda like it more than NYC, although that's no big surprise to me. It's been really nice. For instance, yesterday: I styled a shoot yesterday at the Roosevelt Hotel with a photographer friend I had been working with over the weekend.

I knew it was going to be good when we met up with the publicist, who, after shaking my hand, said "Nice beads. Could you wear any more?" to which I replied, "I've got three more strands in my bag just in case I start to feel naked," to which he replied, "I've got some too--these are all Tibetan--I made it myself but then I got it blessed by my teachers from Tibet and wow I just can't wait for them to come out here because these men are so spiritual and righteous and I'm in soo good with them and pretty soon they're going to introduce me to their teachers and. . ." He went on to talk about his teachers and his teacher's teachers for twenty minutes and honestly I couldn't have given a shit less, and neither could my friend, but god, what an LA moment. Did I mention that we went to the Coffee Bean right before that?

After the shoot, we lounged by the pool for a bit and "Candy" struck up conversation with us. She was a rich bitch for sure, and kept on asking us if we were cameramen, for some reason. Even after Sam explained he was a photographer, she didn't really seem to get it. Her daughter was going to a casting, her 10-year-old daughter, whom EVERYONE says should be a model or an actress, but she just doesn't know yet, and describing her outfit, which was a red polka-dot Jil Sander dress with red polka-dot Marni pumps with bows. She couldn't believe that I knew what Marni was, and after she asked me if I was a cameraman and I told her I was a stylist, she seemed to understand a bit more. When she asked me who my favorite designer was I named off about ten amazing Belgian and Japanese designers that she's never heard of. She then got on her cell phone and walked around the pool in her Chanel bikini and coverup and sunglasses and her Costume National ("Do you like my shoes? They're Costume National! NO ONE knows who they are but I think they're FABULOUS!") cork platform spike heel slides. BY THE POOL, PEOPLE.

This all made me realize that the world really is full of douchebags, and I'm just as big a douchebag as the next. Realistically though, I'm a bigger douchebag than most, a douchebag amongst douchebags, so have you, because most douchebags don't know that they're douchebags, yet I can recognize the douchebaginess in someone a block away, yet I still play the game. I hope it's good for something other than material, because I think I've made a certain lapse in judgment in my self-worth and the contribution I could be making to society.

But sheeit, I put cute outfits together, I'm hot, and my asshole just lights up in front of the camera with a big dick in it, and maybe that's more than most people, right?