Everyone There Wore a Rented Old School Tuxedo or Very, Very Wide Legged Jeans With Experimental, Unknown Sneakers…

So sorry I have not written sooner but, as you already know, I have been in Los Angeles setting up an apartment here. I haven’t had much time to spare, being busy with furniture shopping, car shopping and well… tanning.

But I did make my way to this one awards gala that I just have to share it with you — unpacked boxes be damned! First, let me preface it by saying was so far beyond wretched that to tell you the whole truth and nothing but the truth, I can’t reveal the actual event. Otherwise I will not be invited back, and I wouldn’t want to miss the chance to pick up a few more horror stories next year. Anyway, here we go.

The first red flag was the perhaps the dress code, “Black Tie Optional.” Amused, I decided to wear a pair of jeans and a jacket. I figured I might be a little under-dressed, but people would forgive me. Thank god I didn’t wear a tux! Everyone there wore a rented old school tuxedo or — taking the “optional” to heart — very, very wide legged jeans with experimental, unknown sneakers and shirts that even the boys from ‘NSYNC would have ditched. The women looked like they were either going to the prom in Arkansas or to Sunday mass.

I was hit on by: (in this order), Lil’ Kim‘s ugly sister, in a leopard blue dress… shirt… I don’t know — it was torn up and she looked like she had been run over by a car. Next: a barefoot cougar sucking on a lollipop, followed by a guy who is producing a movie who would like me to be in it. He handed me his business card — which had his picture on it! (Does it double as his driver’s license??) Making my way through the crowd, shaking my head in disbelief and trying to keep to myself, I saw itit being the buffet table, an extravaganza of sushi next to pasta next to cookies next to caramelized apples the size of a New York studio. A selection that would make any self-respecting New York girl with body issues (and some boys — you know who you are) purge from ten feet away. That did it. I packed up my posse and on the chorus of some tacky seventies disco song and we took off for saner pastures.

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