DAHLINGS -
This will have to be short, as I am preparing to go out to a dinner party in Southampton.
However, I am still taking suggestions on my plans for world domination. Of course further plans include:
1) Find a cure for cancer (again, any well-informed World Leader has to pledge that)
2) Making it a rule of law that ALL clothing manufacturers and designers--and I do mean ALL--have to provide their clothing in sizes up to 7X! Yes, I'm looking at you, Banana Republic.
Must dash! Please do follow me on Twitter, help my plans for world domination, and remember, BIG GALS RULE!
Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog
Showing posts with label Banana Republic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Banana Republic. Show all posts
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Friday, June 15, 2007
Adventures In Los Angeles, cont.
DAHLINGS -
Los Angeles is a most interesting city, so unlike my dearly beloved New York. For one thing, as everyone knows, people live in their automobiles (when they live in their automobiles in New York, it's a housing choice). Los Angeles has no center, and unlike here, if you refer to "downtown," everyone gets quite afraid.
My companion and I had dinner at Musso Franks, a lovely relic of old Hollywood (rather like Elliot Gould, who I met briefly at the Ocean's Thirteen premiere). It seemed like we spent most of every day driving from place to place. When I suggested we walk to a restaurant only a few blocks from my companion's mansion, he stared at me as if I were insane. Walk? What did walk mean?
You'd think he was the one in four inch stiletto heels. Well, he was, but not in public.
I fear that in a few years Angelenos will have toilets installed in their car seats, so that they don't ever have to get out of their Beemers. I mean, there are drive-through banks, dry cleaners, wedding chapels, hardware stores...why stand up at all?
There is even a trolley in the middle of the Farmer's Market on Gilmore Street, to save you the trouble of strolling ten feet from Banana Republic to Anthropologie. Nonetheless, the high point of my visit (besides standing next to George Clooney) was a visit to Decades, that vintage store of legend, on Melrose Avenue.
Cameron Silver, the owner, was clearly aghast at my robust proportions (apparently they rarely carry anything above a size six). However, he did show me many beautiful Birkin bags and other accessories. This is one of my pet peeves with many vintage stores...if you are larger than a modern size eight, you are out of luck.
Hence my store, of course. If only Chanel had had the foresight to design for larger women, the world would be a better place. But I digress.
In all, the weather was superb, the conversation superficial, and I had a lovely time. The best way to put it would be that it was a vacation for my intellect.
And of course, I am now reunited with Bucky! He lost quite a bit of weight while I was gone, poor thing, but this morning I had the maid rub him down with Shea dog butter and his coat is nice and shiny. If a bit on the sticky side.
Ciao,
Elisa and Bucky the Wonderdog
Los Angeles is a most interesting city, so unlike my dearly beloved New York. For one thing, as everyone knows, people live in their automobiles (when they live in their automobiles in New York, it's a housing choice). Los Angeles has no center, and unlike here, if you refer to "downtown," everyone gets quite afraid.
My companion and I had dinner at Musso Franks, a lovely relic of old Hollywood (rather like Elliot Gould, who I met briefly at the Ocean's Thirteen premiere). It seemed like we spent most of every day driving from place to place. When I suggested we walk to a restaurant only a few blocks from my companion's mansion, he stared at me as if I were insane. Walk? What did walk mean?
You'd think he was the one in four inch stiletto heels. Well, he was, but not in public.
I fear that in a few years Angelenos will have toilets installed in their car seats, so that they don't ever have to get out of their Beemers. I mean, there are drive-through banks, dry cleaners, wedding chapels, hardware stores...why stand up at all?
There is even a trolley in the middle of the Farmer's Market on Gilmore Street, to save you the trouble of strolling ten feet from Banana Republic to Anthropologie. Nonetheless, the high point of my visit (besides standing next to George Clooney) was a visit to Decades, that vintage store of legend, on Melrose Avenue.
Cameron Silver, the owner, was clearly aghast at my robust proportions (apparently they rarely carry anything above a size six). However, he did show me many beautiful Birkin bags and other accessories. This is one of my pet peeves with many vintage stores...if you are larger than a modern size eight, you are out of luck.
Hence my store, of course. If only Chanel had had the foresight to design for larger women, the world would be a better place. But I digress.
In all, the weather was superb, the conversation superficial, and I had a lovely time. The best way to put it would be that it was a vacation for my intellect.
And of course, I am now reunited with Bucky! He lost quite a bit of weight while I was gone, poor thing, but this morning I had the maid rub him down with Shea dog butter and his coat is nice and shiny. If a bit on the sticky side.
Ciao,
Elisa and Bucky the Wonderdog
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