To market, to market...

So, in an effort to become a better blogger, and by extension, a better person, here finally is my much delayed account of Los Angeles Spring 2007 Market. To be shortly followed by my account of Halloween and most likely what I had for dinner last night.

As always, it was a big mad rush from making appointments and travel reservations, seeing everyone (that is, trying to see everyone), until I could finally collapse on the plane home. Leaving the business has gotten a little easier, probably because I am so crazed and busy all the time these days that I simply can’t even try to sweat the small stuff.

Pre-Show
The flight over was uneventful, and I made my way over to Fox Rental, some random “boutique-y” car rental place that I’ve never heard of. All I know was that my car would be $14 a day, and that’s all I needed. Frankly, they could have given me a Flintstone car that would be powered by the soles of my feet - all I needed was to get to and fro from the airport, as well as make a couple of jaunts to Smashbox Studios. Of course the guy behind the counter, a humorless Russian, tried to get me to upgrade to a nicer car. “No, I want to the cheapest piece of garbage that you have,” I told him, and this elicited a surprising chuckle. He fiddled around in the back and said, “Well, you have slightly nicer piece of garbage car, all economy were gone.” I departed off like a rock star in my Taurus Sho.

I checked in to the Standard downtown, which mercifully let me in before the official check-in time. It’s not that I think that the Standard is too cool for me, but I am slightly confused by it, which does seem to belie some sort of deficiency on my part: be it coolness, hipster worthiness, whatever. For example: on the phone, near the buttons for “bell desk” and “wake up call” there is one button that says “heaven” and one that says “hell.” I pressed hell and freaked out and hung up when it seemed to be ringing something. Because, really, atheist that I am, I would lose my shit if they had some sort of pre-recorded satanic cackling on an outgoing message.

I was able to relax a bit in my space pod-like room, meeting Candice down at the lobby briefly to exchange my postcards, which would be placed in her front row gift bags, for some dresses for Drew Sidora, my friend Beth’s client (who also borrowed a Candice dress from me for her L.A. premiere of Step Up) to wear to Candice’s Smashbox show the following day.

That night I had dinner with Soroya at Cobras and Matadors, one of my favorite old L.A. haunts. Lentils and tapas and sangria, oh my. After that it was on to the Louis Verdad runway show at Smashbox, with a quick run back to the Standard to grab the dresses that Candice dropped off for Drew. The Louis Verdad show was madness - I saw Beth in front and gave her Drew’s dresses but we got separated because of all the Smashbox rigmarole of standing in line for passes, standing in line for entry to the show, and then waiting for the show to start. I was totally grumpy in my tired state with my painful high heels. To make matters worse, my phone was dead, so I missed multiple calls and texts from Beth who had an extra seat in the front row for me. Grrrr.

Day One
Candice’s show was at noon, so I decided to not try and squeeze in any morning appointments, instead doing some work on my laptop and having a leisurely breakfast at the Standard’s café. I noticed that none of the other fashion people were eating at the café…oh, wait. There’s a male fashionista at the bar, having a liquid breakfast. This is why I don’t have what it takes to look good in super skinny jeans.

Beth was unable to attend Candice’s show with Drew, so I told her that I would help Drew out at the show. Waiting outside for her to show up, who should I see drive by slowly and creepily in some white minivan type vehicle? Why, crazy Vincent from Project Runway III. I couldn’t believe my eyes, but the guy was unmistakable. I am ordinarily not a whip out my camera phone and take pictures of people kind of girl, but I seriously wish I had in this case. I told Drew about my sighting and she agreed that I should have. She also looked a little frightened about the possibility of Vincent popping up.

Drew brought her father and little brother to the show, and they were equally adorable. She is such a nice girl, clearly because she comes from such a nice family. She looked great in her Candice dress, much better than the models, in my opinion. Curves suit those dresses so much better than mere bones. We had fun at the show, and Candice’s new line looks gorgeous: there are several new variations on what was the Blue Mood dress, I think they will be really well received. Just gorgeous.

I got back from Smashbox, and as I gave my car over to the Standard valet, he rubbed a spot on my driver’s door with a puzzled expression. “WASSAT?” I exclaimed, and sure enough, there is a rather large circular dent that I could have sworn was not there when I got the damn car. Of course, I never get the rental insurance because I think it’s a total rip-off, and they happened to upgrade me to the Sho. It looks like something that can easily be suctioned out, but where I would get that done, and how, given my utter lack of time, was the question. That, and really, how did this stupid car get a dent when it’s staying in the garage for the most part?

Since I had enough time and could stand to work off the planned massive consumption of food at Malo, I decide to take a scenic walk to my afternoon appointments from the hotel to forget about my rental car woes. Oh, good. Human feces on the ground and homeless man masturbating. It’s as though I never left. Oh, and something funny (not ha ha funny): at an intersection, a car tries to turn right onto a one-way street going left. Never mind the fact that there are huge cars in both lanes of the one-way stopped at the red light, the driver behind the car gases it hard, and would have hit the SUV in the left lane, had not a homeless guy risked life and limb and jumped in front of the car, waving his arms. The car stops, barely missing the guy, and then sort of backs up and speeds off going straight. The homeless guy wipes his brow, and then goes to work the line of stopped cars, starting with the SUV that he just saved. The SUV’s window remains up and the guy’s cup empty. Now, I am no big fan of panhandling, but really? This guy just jumped in front of a large moving vehicle to save your suburban ass. I don’t think $20 would kill you.

After I finished my appointments, Stephanie and I went to dinner at Malo, which is owned by the same brains behind Cobras and Matadors. It was so damn tasty. Inexpensive, and just delicious. They have caipirinhas, and the beef and pickle tacos were to die for. We had fun and pretty much ate them out of house and home. Hey, I didn’t eat lunch.

Day Two
It’s on. My first appointment starts at 10 and my last one is at 4, with my plane leaving around 8, and my rental car still with a hole in it. However, another valet delivers the best news ever to me when I retrieve my car, pointing out a clear sticker on top of the dent. “They already know about it,” he assures me. “You didn’t do it - that’s why the sticker is there.” Hurrah!

Given my newly uplifted mood, I bust through all of my appointments, having to just grab lookbooks at the end of some and run out with them. I am very excited about the stuff that I picked up for spring - a lot of pretty dresses, and fun, bright, pattern-driven dresses (call it the Uli effect). Granted, it will still be freezing in San Francisco at that point, but I’m sure the girls in L.A. and Miami will be loving it. More on the new lines later…

And so, I got back home, safe and sound, and predictably exhausted. Looking forward to being well-heeled for spring, though…

On a completely unrelated note, why am I receiving spam in German now?