Thursday is here and this is what it looks like.
Looking at this cloud hovering over Santa Monica Bay casting a shadow makes me imagine what if a part of the city about the size of Downtown L.A. broke off and started to float away, how might that appear in scope?
Whenever I come to this venue, it makes me think of oil paintings of Paris in the 19th century--I think it's because they hang flags out in front, and the awnings, and the bare trees, and ... Oh hell, it's just damn picturesque.
When I left the event, I took just a couple of street pictures as I made my way up to the bus stop. It's hard not to admire a place where public spaces have beautiful planters filled with colorful flowers, and where architects put in hideaway vista like this view up the stairs.
However, I don't like hanging around very long because Beverly Hills always makes me feel poor, ill-dressed, and unclean.
I passed by a group of a dozen young people dressed in all-black, which made me look around and it seemed EVERYBODY was dressed in black. It was like entering a science fiction dystopia, an impersonal, squeaky-clean landscape with a conformist population. And looked down and remembered I was dressed in black too. Ugh. I was cliche. At least I had a reason--I was stage-help black, not fashion black. People tell me this is what Manhattan feels like.
I've been doing voiceovers for this fashion show event for a decade now, and I have one observation after having a look at all the people behind the scenes who make this kind of thing happen; it's that the best-looking women are not the models, but the make-up artists, in my opinion. They have the edgiest most creative looks in the outfits that they put together for themselves. If I were in charge, I'd send them all down the runway. But, I've always been partial to Bohemian types anyway.
Hope you've all been having a good week so far. Hang in there.