Oh. My. Goodness gracious.

Well, Metromix held its first ever party at the Avalon's Club 82 on Friday. It'd had been a steep but awakening journey on the rest-deprived path toward our launch, and we were ready to get silly.

The esteemed Scott Toodlewinks vonSterlinghoffer (aka our bitchin' music editor) had reserved a bottle of BevMo's finest pear cider, Babychams, just for the occasion. We cracked it open, high fived, and passed it around like teenagers before ducking inside. The next thing I knew, Amir was dancing onstage.

No, we didn't drink this in the parking lot. We wouldn't do that. 

Inside, Mr. George Ducker gets his vodka on

Scott, Amir and I bond, as tipsy people often do.

And then...things escalate:

Faithful comrade Gemini tries to keep it together

And I spy a wonderous mullet: 

Saturday, I took a break and hit the road for the weekend, staying at a mountain cabin, and swimming all alone in the American River. (For faithful Ward-on-the-Street readers: I was not attacked by mermaids.)

As for your Monday evening, I predict awesomeness as Eskimohunter wraps up thier residency at Spaceland, with the wildly attractive and powerhouse duo of the Pity Party opening.

The Pity Party, objects of our sycophantic obsession:

 

Also, karaoke is going down at the Cha Cha (I've been meaning to update my makeout pictures,) and the Madonnalicious event is at La Cita. Patrons are urged to don their favorite Madonna identity, and I'd have to go, hands down, with the Marie Antoinette horsecrap that she wore to the Grammy's that one year. Hands. Down.

 

 

 

   
I wore my new nipple-revealing Opening Ceremony dress to the LA Fashion Awards Nominations party at the Hollywood Standard.

Jeffrey Sebelia was there with a hot lady friend, as was Fred Segal. I said hi to Tarina Tarantino and her man Alfonso, and chatted with Rose Apodaca's man Andy Griffith about the joys of Japanese chain Uniqlo. Then he told us that he is in the process of opening a new branch of their awesome Silver Lake design store, A+R , in Venice...we can't wait!!!

I spent much of the evening chatting to the delightful Native Wayne, host of Indie 103.1's Sunday night reggae show. He's one of those guys you've definitely seen around, always wearing a bandanna over his black dreads, but I had never realized he was the one and only Native Wayne.

I gave him maximum respeck and asked him what he was doing at the LA Fashion Awards Nominations party, and he said they were passing around tickets at Indie HQ, and he thought he'd come check it out. "So where de fashion, mon?" he asked in his Kingston drawl, looking around hopefully.

He told me about his house in Jamaica which has a 150 foot waterfall in the back garden, where Gwen Stefani recently shot a video. He bemoaned the tough working conditions for Jamaican film crew members.

"The crew from that Jamaican bobsleigh team movie Cool Runnings only got paid $10 a day," he fumed.

He told me about the documentary he is working on with Ondi Timoner (director of Brianjonestown Massacre/Dandy Warhol doc DiG!), all about the history of reggae music. Should be out next year. Then I told him about the secret illegal reggae/spoken-word party that happens every Wednesday in a location I shall not reveal, and he agreed to go check it out with me some time. Jah!

And now, for the nominees...there were no real surprises here, but we were delighted to see Doris from awesome designer vintage store The Way We Wore nominated for best retailer, and we're rooting for Juan Carlos Obando or Jasmin Shokrian to win the Fashion Innovator Awards. The actual awards ceremony takes place on October 26, at the Orpheum Theatre downtown.

2007 Moss Adams Fashion Innovator Award Nominees:

Paul Thomas, designer Thomas Wylde

Juan Carlos Obando

Jasmin Shokrian

Rami Kashou

Marketing Excellence Award Nominees:

Max Azria for BCBG Max Azria

Paul Marciano for GUESS by Marciano

Fraser Ross, owner of Kitson

LA Eyeworks

Fashion Retailer Award Nominees

Mark Werts, American Rag Cie

Fred Segal

Lisa Klein

Doris Raymond, from The Way We Wore

Fashion Communication Winner

Crystal Meers, LA editor of Daily Candy

Inspiration Award Winner

Project Runway

Wells Fargo Century Fashion Achievement Award Winner

Max Azria 

 

 

Are you all sick of me talking about Opera yet? Don’t worry: This might be my last post about the new club for a while because…it kind of sucks.

The whole point of going out is to have fun, but unfortunately the staff at Opera doesn’t seem to see it that way. On Friday night, the black-clad security team treated the people waiting in line like they were criminals—screaming at them to stand still on the narrow sidewalk, looking at the girls as if they’d all committed fashion crimes.

I wanted no part of this scene. I left my friends to hold our place in line while I sauntered up to the bearish doorman—press badge and business card in hand—to explain that I was there to write about the club. He said I could either ditch my friends and come in by myself or stand back in line. Seriously? Who goes to a club alone?

A couple minutes later I saw Suk Sung, head of marketing and promotions, and asked if he'd let us in. Suk, who had given me the scoop on Opera and had asked me to write about the club, basically gave us the hand and ran away. (I should tell you that my friends all looked hot in mini skirts, shiny hair and glossy lips.) Then we called promoter Zen Freeman, who'd put us on the list. And, nice guy that he is, he came out and escorted us in.

Victory!

We walked through the fog "curtain" and "ooohed” and "ahhhed" at the fancy arched ceiling as we made it to the bar. After the hour-long debacle outside, it was time to get drunk. (Maybe that's their trick for getting clubbers to work up a thirst and spend all their money on booze.) Of course, it took 45 minutes to actually order those drinks—which cost $45 bucks for a beer, one vodka cranberry and two kamikaze shots—and by that point we were all annoyed again.

We thought dancing would cheer us up. But my friends didn't like the DJ. I thought he was pretty good, but a little booze goes a long way with me. Instead we watched Rex Lee bump 'n grind; observed the ratio of young girls to old guys (about 70 to 30); and scored some free lemon drop shots, which I have to say were really yummy.

Best part of the night? Crawling into bed.