The fabulous life of...

Its been too too long. I would provide an rich and thorough post on last week if only I could keep the days in order, or really remember them, but alas, i cannot. All i vaguely recall is drinking too much jameson on st patricks day (totally not on purpose– or with intent. I swear.); finally checking out 8 oz burger bar down on south beach (a hamburger that was good going down but wrecked havoc on my non-red-meat-eating body for several days; apparently it no longer knows how to digest such things); seeing "sunshine cleaners" and having drinks at the standard hotel as part of a gen-art event (funny and witty but also kind of melancholic; sure, supply me with free wine after a movie like that, its much needed); more dinner and drinking with friends and staying out too too late; breathlessly awaiting Friday to get into a hot bath and drink wine with ice cubes (holler patty!); and then finally, liv at the fontainebleau on Saturday night. All things considered, i think thats a pretty good brief summary of a week in the life of– even though i cant remember all the details. The moral of that story is that eye-witnesses are not that reliable. I mean, can you even remember what you wore yesterday? I can, but thats because ive somehow only been wearing black & white all week.

Last night ashley & i were supposed to go out for sushi and drinks, have a quite little girls night (being that every time we saw each other last week, it involved her husband & 3 visiting Spaniards- the ones who were pushing rum & coke like it was going out of style). So i was very much looking forward to making a calm night of it, some catch up, laughing, gossip, you know. Girl things. Then in the afternoon ashley gets an invite from a friend of her’s who was working at this fashion show down on south beach - something called "funkshion"? Um. I dont know. Anyway we decide to ditch the sushi plans and go to the show- supposed to start at 7; followed by another show at 8 at the setai; followed up by drinks, naturally.

We get there and of course, predictably, this fashion show doesn’t start until about 8.30. In the meantime we are eating organic nibbly-bits and drinking and taking free hand-rolled cigars from this little man who is just sitting there rolling them. I mean, who knows. Its miami after all. The theme of the show is green fashion- which normally id be all about. Yes, organic, cotton, green, im all for it. Unfortunately, the show itself was more like a blood-bath of feathers, buttons, glittery-things, prom-like dresses, tack and— here’s the best part— models with fake boobs. Where else but in miami do you see models who not only are not-waif-thin, but who also have huge tits? Nowhere people, nowhere. The good part: we weren’t feeling badly about ourselves (well, some of us anyway). Because fake breasts, no matter what other people say, are just totally weird to me.

The bad part: the show was otherwise, really quite atrocious, minus this one designer who made all these insane head-gear type pieces that looked like tree-branches, with bits of lace and ribbon and things all stuck in- almost like... the horns of a reindeer, except they went up super super high, maybe three or four feet. Honestly, if i could somehow rock that look, i would. I just dont know how one could walk down the street (or anywhere, actually) with that on.

Other highlights included a dress made out of magazines that was all pleated and wrinkled and very cool looking. For the remainder of the show though, i was standing next to our friend sarah and commenting that michael kors and nina garcia would not be so into these looks. In fact they would be making barf-faces. In other words? It was like a really bad episode of project runway, but minus the hilarity that often ensues, and minus tim gunn (although there was a guy sitting in the front row who would have passed for a steven tyler impersonator, wearing some kind of tye-died, batikish patterned denim shirt and pants. I mean. Stop. I cant go on. Not at all related to tim-gunn but still. It was ... im at a loss of words). The finale of the show involved two really horrible singers performing "i will survive", the woman in pleather leggings and the man in this plaid-pajama-like-jump-suit, as they walked (or strutted) with models down the runway– models who looked like they were wearing the new prom line from macys. Not only that, but they just wouldnt stop. The thing just kept going. They just kept singing more and more songs from the 1970s. When it was finally over, the only thing we wanted to go was go home- no setai, no more shows, no more anything- just a hot shower and some water. Exhaustingly funny and odd and everything else you could hope for on a Wednesday night when all you really wanted was to eat raw fish. All in all though, a perfectly good trade.

This week also brings a whole new slew of touristas to miami: the people who love electronic and house music. You think im kidding? But sadly i am not. Its part of winter-music-conference, which is ironic and dumb, if you ask me, considering that its march and springtime. And its never really winter here. Anyway there are tons of electronic/house/clubby shows going on all over the place, and lots of people walking around in odd clubby-outfits, along with a few random hardcore straggler fans in all black, who *almost* resemble hipsters (or at least the vegan militia that hang out in the east village with their bicycles), but not quite. Thankfully i have no plans to attend any of those events and continue to feel overjoyed during such times when i can leave south beach and head back up to where i live. North beach baby. North. Beach. Ok, so its not true- i do have one event in my back pocket for Sunday, but its technically a bbq with djs at the ganesvort hotel, and i figured, well, why not. Its an excuse to sit outside at a hotel on a beautiful day at the pool and eat. Or, you know, dance to trance music. Cant you just picture it now? (well, neither can i, really).

now im off to start another day, already re-invigorated by the coffee and rehashing.

xoxo