-meeting Trixie and a pretty blonde who told me about daily candy, which sounds fantasically cool. They were like Sacto needs one! I was like, I can't hear you, the blaring electro is taking up my eardrum space!
-Seeing Velvet Leafs darling collection, there was a long sleeved brown hether minidress with a keyhole and cream bow detail that was immaculate. and pretty.
-Talking to fellow fran drescher hair fan/big hair adoree, Nicole Kniss of Van Der Neer. Her funked up kiddie/Alice in wanderlust inspo-ed stuff was a trip down the rabbits butthole that i truly enjoyed. Plus she likes big hair.
-Dancing, more like flinging myself around to ward off any crotches heading towards my backside, to LA Riots and Wallpaper.
-Looking like this:
I can't help it if I'm pretty/slightly angry. The lovely blonde in the back, throwin up the L sign, was on of Van Der Neer' Models (capital M) slash full time catwalk occupier.
As much fun as I managed to have, driving home I felt a familar pang of uncomfortable. I realized, as a usually do when i am on facebook, how much i truly miss those who reside currently in SB or will come September. As i unloaded my tired and sweaty butt into bed at 5 a.m. I allllmosst called a dear freund and released a shitstorm of nostalgia. Guess who saved the day? Not Sally, she sucks for anything personal. This honor of self restraining Sonia goes to none other than Fran Fine.
I am no stranger to the comedy of errors that is The Nanny. Ask those whom i miss so tremendously in SB, I violently defend that Jew's wardrobe and hair like she was an actual person. As my obsession developed, I began to love not only the nanny, but the woman behind her. I read found her bio and read proudly aloud to the rommates how she battled uterine cancer, releasing, upon its defeat, the book "Cancer Schmanzer." I also, to snorted laughter at my insistence to educate everyone on Fran's life, told them how she has been robbed and raped in her LA apartment. womp womp womp.
I am not sure if anyone memorized the Nick at Night schedule like my insomniac self has, but at 3 am there begins an extensive session of Nanny re-runs. As i sat two feet from the television eating nutella out of the jar and drinking milk out of the carton like a heathen, I watched Fran wear tights with shorts and bizarre 60's mod hair; I felt better.
"Who would have guessed that the girl we've described,Was just exactly what the doctor prescribed?"