The Nolan MIller dresses. Could you plotz? Thank you Candy Spelling. These images are here for a reason...read on.
This Virgin America thing is amazing. I am blogging from outer space? I mean…what? For an email-aholic this is bliss. Anyhoo, off to Los Angeles, where I used to live for many years and happy to be going back for a week to work and play. It always amazes me when New Yorkers have such strong feelings about how horrible Los Angeles is. “It’s so superficial, it’s so plastic, it’s so hard to get around, I hate driving.” On and on. If you don’t like driving, I can forgive you that, but don’t ever let me catch you behind the wheel of an SUV out in the Hamptons, talk about a congested cluster-fuck, yikes.
In Candyland, Candy Spelling was "the perfect wife and mother". In the real world...yikes-a-roo.
Most of the people I know that have bad things to say about LA are people who had tried their hand at fame and failed miserably. I loved living in LA. I did it twice; once for five years and another time for three. There were valid reasons to my leaving, which are stories for another time and milieu. This whole Jets and Sharks thing between both coasts is senseless. Both have pros and cons. And it should be left at that.
I will be staying at the former home of Bette (Fucking) Davis in Beverly Hills, so I decided to peruse the silliest rag on earth, Beverly Hills 213, a local giveaway (with a new blog) featuring the remnants of old Beverly Hills money and on the cover was the old remnant herself Candy Spelling. Considereing what a piece of work she is, I give Tori major props for standing her ground through the money battle with her mom. Naturally, there was no reference whatsoever to Tori in the article, rather it focused on Candy’s imput on the wardrobe from Dynasty and other such meaningful contributions to society.
yay! I just saw your tweet, I wish you an early welcome to our lovely city. I love it here SO much. Ever since I was a child, this is where I wanted to live. Maybe I thought the streets were paved with gold or something, viewing it the way some immigrants to America view our country. A promise of something wonderful, or at least the promise of hope of something wonderful. But I was terrified of leaving everything and everyone I knew. Finally, one lovely day, the fear of NOT doing it became greater than the fear of doing it, so I packed my bags. and the minute I stepped onto the ground here, I felt home, which I never felt where I was born and raised.
So now I sit in my little office on Hollywood Blvd, and occasionally glance over at the Hollywood sign out my window. And although I desperately want to get out of this tiny office, I know that if I am patient, better things will happen for me. They always do. Because this is LA. 🙂
I added your blog to bookmarks. And i'll read your articles more regularly!