We're pathologically social. We're professional leisurists. We're burrito lovers, bar flies, art whores and music nerds. We dish the good dirt, and we'll risk a parking ticket for a cheap sample sale. Sometimes, we blog drunk.
Weekend of Ward: Is it worthy of pants?
I won't lie: Sometimes I don't want to go out.
After a 4th of July spent eating Ruffles and donuts (in the same mouthful), detonating explosives and sustaining a sparkler-related skin burn, all I wanted on the 5th of July was to flop face-first onto my bed. Or the floor.
But because it's my professional duty to investigate leisure, I slapped my face to stay awake, and headed to two Saturday night art shows. In Hollywood, Nylon Magazine illustrator and local art darling Esther Kim was staging a rare show at Hairroin salon on Cahuenga. Her watercolor works of primping girls were taped to the salon's mirrors, and a well-coiffed crowd sipped punch made from sherbet. Overall verdict: worth putting on pants.
From there I sped over to Chinatown, where Phoebe Washer's posthumous solo show was opening at POVevolving Gallery.
If you happened on our "Art Attack" feature from last week, you might recall that the young artist lived a short but prolific 20 years before bizarrely falling to her death from a cliff in April. As tired as I was, no amount of fatigue would have justified missing the gallery full of her gorgeous and chilling artwork. Talking with her parents, it was impossible not to become emotional. Some nights I go out and cover ridiculous dodgeball championships; other nights I leave a gallery in tears, awed and thankful for what I've seen. Either way, it's worth putting on pants.
Miss Alie Ward
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