I don't get LA.
I finished up my work type stuff early today, so I decided to drive up to Beverly Hills and see what all the fuss was about.
TMZ tells me on a daily basis that the best (non Rodeo Drive) shopping in the LA area is on Robertson Avenue, and I figured that if it was good enough for Lindsey, it was good enough for me, so I fired up the GPS and headed out for alien territory.
And alien indeed.
I parked in a garage on Roberston and headed out into the daylight...and almost crashed headfirst into an Olsen twin. I don't know which one, but I saw her and she saw me and gave me a look as if to say "how dare you venture into this territory without permission or a Black American Express Card and why aren't you wearing anything from my clothing line, you bitch", but whatever.
I headed down the street in pursuit of good shopping.
Some places were great. Some places treated me like I should forfeit my financial and any potential trust fund records before they would hand over a $58 dollar belt.
And then I got to the Ivy.
For those of you who aren't familiar, the Ivy is the famed LA hotspot....THE place to see and be seen. And any celebrity who shows up there and claims that they don't want publicity is LYING through their shiny white veneers.
I approached the Ivy with curiosity. It was, after all, the Ivy. It was then that I deduced the challenge of being a mere pedestrian on this most famous of blocks. In front of me, blocking my path, were at least 5 valet parking guys, 4 paparazzi, 3 people who were waiting for their car, and 4-5 random people milling about.
I had a choice. Turn around and go back, or venture forward to the crosswalk and promises of Intermix and Vince.
I glanced up at the patio in front of the Ivy and happened to notice that the people in these privileged spots were mostly interested in what was happening on the sidewalk. Who was arriving...who was leaving...who was getting their picture taken.
It was through all of this that I needed to pass.
So I squared my shoulders, angled my head down, positioned my shopping bags in front of me...and charged.
In the process, I'm pretty sure that I sliced up a paparazzi with my shopping bag. I also have a very clear recollection of an SUV pulling up to the valet, containing people who were clearly "somebody", and saw the self-imposed look of distaste on their faces at being forced to expose themselves to the waiting cameras. Even though NOBODY goes to the Ivy unless THEY WANT TO BE SEEN and PHOTOGRAPHED. The food can't be that fucking magical, people.
Regardless, I made it through the gauntlet and survived.
(Note: turns out nobody took a picture of the people in the SUV...they looked disappointed.)
Interesting place, Robertson Avenue, but I won't be going back.
I made some friends at Splendid, LF and Surly Girl. The attitudes that I encountered at the rest of the boutiques on that street (with the exception of Lisa Kline) left me with a bad taste in my mouth.
This is definitely not a confidence issue. I can walk into Prada or Sears with the same level of attitude. I can only guess that business is off the charts for these places, right? If they can afford to drive away paying customers with disinterest and attitude.
And the famed Kitson? Ugh. Like Claire's Boutique on steroids.
I went to Beverly Hills out of curiosity and a need for cute pants.
I found cute pants, but I feel like I kind of surrendered a piece of my soul in exchange.
And if you see a cameraman on TMZ with a gigantic paper cut? All me!
Great job on slicing those biatches up! Also well done on the Olsen twin. I couldn't have done what you did. I think I might have vomited in the parking garage from all the disgusting snobby fumes in the air. Ugh. I'm kinda sick a little just thinking about it here on my Ikea couch in my Old Navy skirt and Kohls tee.
ReplyDeleteI was down there a couple of years ago shooting my documentary. The goddam McDonalds has valet parking!! If you stop your care anyplace but a red light, you drop $7 !!!
ReplyDelete"I don't get LA."
ReplyDeleteMe either. They've got two of everything in pro sports: Ducks & Kings for hockey; Clippers & Lakers for basketball; Dodgers & Anaheim for baseball; USC & UCLA for football; and Galaxy & David Beckham for WTF. On top of that is a major choke point on the West Coast's major highway, I-5, and they hog all of the really good earthquakes and wildfires.
I guess L.A. just has to be the center of attention?
Haha, I used to live there. It really is insane. Robertson in general is for celebs who just THRIVE on getting their picture taken. I knew the Ivy was over when I saw Tom Arnold in there :)
ReplyDeleteThe Grove is turning into the same thing, but I still loved it :)
I can honestly say for as much as I love celeb gossip, Ive never had a desire to go to LA... now that Ive read this, Im glad.
ReplyDeleteI lived there a hanful of years ago and was so not impressed. I am over LA. NYC rocks LA any day! ☺
ReplyDeleteCool post! I've only been to LA once and thought it was kind of fun to see the celebs in their natural habitats. ;) I didn't venture to Robinson Ave, however, for fear of having one of those "Pretty Woman" type moments.
ReplyDeleteKitson sucked arse? Tres disappointing!
ReplyDeleteYou have summed up LA in a nutshell. Attitude everywhere. They can keep their land of La La La. Don't they realize everyone else looks at them as one big joke? Now, Northern California, on the other hand is my paradise on earth.
ReplyDeleteI'm also a survivor - born and raised in LA, made my escape in 92. I'm proud to say that I was clearly not somebody there, as I never heard of the Ivy. Those Olsens look like toothpicks with scary eyes. I'm surprised she didn't fall over when you brushed by her.
ReplyDeletexoRobyn
You are so brave!
ReplyDeleteAnd you should have totally hit whatever Olsen twin that was.
This is why I would never shop on Robertson unless I specifically wanted some star sightings. I'll stick to my own town though. We get a few star sightings now and then.
ReplyDelete