Can you guess what I’m going to write about first? I bet you can. It’s what I’ve started all my posts about! I LOVE SLEEPING! I slept in until about noon to catch up on some beauty rest and I don’t think I’ve ever felt more relaxed or refreshed in all my life. I love all this sleeping, I no longer feel the need to take a nap, and that’s truly an exceptional sensation. When I work, my life revolves around naps. Sometimes I take two a day. But, when you actually sleep enough, you have no need! Miraculous. Let’s watch Nicole Richie complain about sleep, too:
Oh, how do you feel about the new header image? Too much for you? Is my lifestyle too decadent? Does the old Hollywood glamour melt your screens? I hope so. I’m keeping it for awhile, I was tired of me in Karl Lagerfeld gloves on Lake Michigan. I need to find some of those gloves that actually fit. What I really need to do is just catch a flight to Paris and go to the Karl Lagerfeld shop that just opened up in my old hometown of the Marais. I’d buy gloves and a Tokidoki and shirts and bags and…well, everything. I would happily charge to my credit card’s limit and not feel ashamed of it. You should never feel guilty for decadence, which is something I’m trying to remind myself of. LOS ANGELES IS SO EXPENSIVE! It’s not my fault that I can’t stomach fast food and require fine to moderately fine dining!
Speaking of fine dining, I walked up to Fred Segal on Melrose this afternoon for lunch. I was quite lost at first. I assumed you went into the shop. Wrong. But I did see a wonderful abundance of menswear that I was in desperate need of. I didn’t buy myself anything, though, but I may someday.
It took some time before a table opened up — I guess I could have made a reservation, but I didn’t think of it — but before too long, I was seated on the deck. It wasn’t very pretty. It was in their parking lot. I forgot to tell you why I was there, though. According to one of my sources, this is supposedly a hotspot for celebrity luncheons. Who do you think I saw? NOBODY! I think all the celebrities are on holiday. Everybody came over from France, though. They’re all over the place. I keep hearing French and sighing tragically. There’s nothing like Paris, reader. You should go if you have never been. If you never go on another trip in all your life, go to Paris. If you can only go for an hour, go. Do everything in your power to visit. It’s worth it.
“Who are you?” somebody asked me.
Who am I? I wondered. Why would somebody ask me who I was? Was I being mistaken for my husband, Zac Efron? This has happened before, reader. Not with Zac, but I was once mistaken for the winner of Eurovision and I have been told I look like a young Yves Saint Laurent by a man who once met him, so…there!
She smiled, “How are you?”
I had simply misheard. Tragic.
It was the waitress and I ordered their specialties. A butter lettuce salad, a cucumber-mint lemonade, and a spicy pasta. The salad came out quickly and it tasted rather nice, but it was a bit gritty and a found a ROCK in my salad! A ROCK! I forgot to complain about this. Merde. The pasta, though, was absolutely wonderful and I thoroughly enjoyed every bite of that.
As I was paying, we finally saw somebody. I still don’t know who it was, but quite a few of the people took pictures of her. She called herself Debby and I heard the word “model” being thrown around. I have no idea if she is a model or not, I’m much more familiar with male models.
Once I had finished up, I headed over for the bus and felt tragic as I stood there on Melrose. I just hate everything about busses and I hope that in the future Los Angeles gets to work on its underground train system. It will revolutionize the city if it’s well done and the people are willing to use it. There’s nothing better than a ride in the Metro. It’s actually one of my favorite things to do in Paris. I have plans for a blog series that I hope to eventually turn into a guidebook to Paris where I review all the train routes and stops in Paris and give a few suggestions of places to go at each exit. Very helpful, I think. I’m kind of obsessed with the Metro.
I finally caught my bus and we were zooming towards Paramount.
Outside the gates was this memorial to the recently deceased Cory Monteith. I’ve only watched Glee twice in my life (Madonna episode and the Britney Spears one), I just couldn’t get into it. Still too bad about his dying and all.
Finally seeing the gates of Paramount was very exciting to me. It is the only movie studio actually inside the limits of Hollywood and is surely the most gorgeous. Just look at those gates! It was like Sunset Boulevard came to life.
I loved walking all around it just thinking about all the films that had been made within. Off in the distance I saw the hotel I was originally planning on staying at and was charmed by it. An old building that was determinedly trying to hold on to some glamour. It was doing a poor job of it, too many cheesy details — red velvet and too shiny — but, I applaud them for doing it. Nobody seems to care about being classy anymore. Just me and Dita Von Teese. Remember that one time when I met her and her boyfriend who was an actual count? Of course you do!
God, I’m just so interesting!
I walked and I walked and I finally found the Hollywood Forever cemetery. The only thing I wanted to see was Peter Lorre’s grave, but I didn’t have much time. I had been told when I called that they stay open until six, but they were shutting down at half past four because of a silly bit of rain.
It was quite a sprawling cemetery and unique from any of the other (MANY) cemeteries I have visited. I adore cemeteries. They’re some of the most peaceful places on earth, I feel.
I thought it was wonderfully chic that you could see the Hollywood Sign from the cemetery. I decided that I will allow my descendants or whoever to install some of my ashes here if it doesn’t work out at Père Lachaise or the charming little cemetery in Villefranche-sur-mer that I fell in love with. I’d like the following done (this is all in seriousness): scrape my bones clean and wire them together for display in a charming mausoleum in whichever cemetery works out, cremate the remaining. Divide this into three and spread in the following places: the Valley of the Kings in Egypt, the Jardin des Tuileries, and along the beach in Sarasota. I’ll haunt you if this doesn’t work out.
Here is one of the many halls of the mausoleum. Each was humid and claustrophobic and wonderfully macabre.
Peter Lorre was in here somewhere, but I never did find him. I was being asked to leave.
The mausoleums are done in an Egyptian Renaissance style and I was madly in love. Then I had to go. Sadsies.
Outside of Paramount is this charming building that I’m crazy about. I wonder what it is?
I changed into something a bit warmer as it was so chilly with the sprinkling rain and oddly unseasonable weather and caught another bus to Beverly Hills. I got off a few stops early so that I could look at the wonderful houses. So many styles and designs. I really loved Beverly Hills in general. I like anywhere that feels expensive. I like wealth.
I found myself on Rodeo drive and I had the most marvelous time window shopping at the designer shops. I simply must have these shoes by Yves Saint Laurent:
Aren’t they the most wonderful things you’ve ever seen in all your life? I thought so. I love studs. I need more studded things in my life, like the denim jackets in the Jedward song that I’m obsessed with (both the song and jacket and the twins, too, #sorryboutit)
I bet you’re obsessed now, too. If you aren’t you have no sense of fun. Also they had Miley’s hair two years ago. I still want to get it. I’m not kidding.
I walked by Louis Vuitton and dreamed of getting one of their duffel bags. This one in particular:
It’s a totally unnecessary purchase of $2000, but…why not, you know?
MANDATORY HILARY DUFF INTERLUDE:
When I get this trip paid off, I think I’m going to save up for one. AND A BURBERRY TRENCH COAT. Those are my two dream designer purchases. I should just be a model and get them for free. Then I saw this as I had that exact same thought:
I wanted to go on a go-see, but then I remembered that I left my portfolio at the last agency and I forgot to pack nude underwear! If you don’t get that, start watch old seasons of America’s Next Top Model, back when it was actually fun and not a giant gimmick. I miss those old days.
I found a cupcake ATM at Sprinkles and that basically restored my faith in humanity. You swipe your card and a cupcake comes out without any human interaction. Absolutely genius.
I had dinner at the Veggie Grill! Probably the last time. Weeping.