Hipster Trap

Sometimes in July we were victims of a Hipster Trap in DTLA.  Sometimes I'm really confused at what a hipster is... are they rich are they poor?  Do they shop at Urban Outfitters or thrift stores?  Do they like food trucks, brunch or tacos? Do they work?  I... I just don't know anymore.  So I'm making up my own definition.

Hipster:  A group of people that you are judging due to their life choices, but then you find yourself behaving like them two hours later...  I think that's fair.

Anyway - I found about this event thing and decided to check it out and it was a hipster trap because...

What is that thing hanging from the ceiling?  And what is that music he's playing?

...and what is that "Art?"  and why is that PBR Free?

And... why do they look like that?

Runnnnnnn Charles the Hipsters are coming!

Hipster Birthday

Happy Birthday Sam, you fucking Hipster.

So excited for the party

Hipster chocolate fountain, hipster beer pong.  We're so fucking hipster

Princess cake.  Not so hipster, but very Sam.

Hipsters in the kitchen.  I sense a pattern. lots of patterns.

Ern wins with his reusable bag and coffee mug.  But... only because this is what he usually wears anyway.

Hipsters sitting down.

Hipsters in the bedroom.

Hipsters having a Beyonce dance off that leads to our downstairs neighbors complaining.

 Hipster love connection.

Sweaty Sundays - Dance Sex

I don't think the influences wore off this morning... and I am extremely thankful.

I heard of Sweaty Sundays through the New York Times and got a chance to participate with Ern this morning. American Apparel / Hipster dance class in Silverlake at noon. I was sweating so much and Ern was creating puddles beneath him specifically during the yoga stretch. He cleaned the sweat with his socks to avoid a lawsuit. Good thing they were knee-high socks; there was a lot of sweat on the floor.

This is our exercise attire of choice. Pose inspired by Fruits.

There were 50ish people in the class dressed in leotards, spandex and colorful outfits that mirrored Eric Prydz's Call on Me music Video.... actually it was exactly the same as the video with more gay boys and people of color-ish. The energy was high... extremely high and positive. I was jumping around as if I was still at the house club. During particular movements, I felt the same sensation that I felt the night before: euphoria. Particularly when I rolled my body and threw my hands in the air- a rush of chills ran down my spine as if I was suddenly hit by a fan in a sweaty room. I was experiencing dance sex as I stretched my muscles and overworked my sweat glands.

Not the routine we learned, but same teacher.

This weekend movement had been redefined for me. It was about feeling sensations in every crevice of my body internally and externally - and throwing everything I own into the wind pushing my senses to their boundaries while looking and feeling colorful.

Quarter Century

On May 30th, I turned 25.

I originally wanted a Hollywood blow out or eccentrically themed house party (i.e. High school throw back, with Hip Hop jams and outfits from the early 2000's - parachute pants, Buddha beads, pukka shell necklaces, Tommy Hilfiger, Anchor Blue, Old Navy Tech vests), but decided to not torture my friends and instead had a HOT POT EVENT where everyone would eat raw meat from a giant pot and share diseases!!


I put on my awesome giraffe t-shirt and paraded around my party showing people how to make raw egg dipping sauce- reassuring them that they won't die. Ern was the fire marshal- he threw his hands in the air when he saw that our twister mat was leaning against the "vegetarian" hotpot in the hallway, "AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO CARES ABOUT SAFETY!!?! THIS IS PLASTIC" So cute. My pseudo boyfriend, Ern, was in charge of making sure the house didn't burn down... especially when the fuse blew out 4 times while running two hot pots at the same time.

I think I put away 5 sake bombs and forced my friends to play awkward drinking games such as Titanic (which is perfect for getting rid of leftover beer). And soon my memory deteriorated.

My ex came and pointed out that I haven't changed at all: the music, hotpot, guestbook, painting... he stepped into a time warp, we were back in college... and this made me happy. Because.. the things that I like about myself, I held on to and that growing up doesn't mean letting go of the good stuff. I'm glad he was there to point that out.

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I dragged my friends who weren't sick of me yet to Short Stop. This amazing hipster bar in Echo Park with a great dance floor and compartments of billiards. No line, no cover, plenty of parking.. it screamed "PERFECT."

As I look at these photos I realized that I didn't remember the night, but my friends told me I was gone.


We gorilla gay barred the joint as my boyz got freaky and macho boys looked away in fear. I met up with my coworkers who were also celebrating their birthdays. They began to sing to me and my coworker and I yelled, "STOP SINGING!!! IT'S NOT MIDNIGHT YET!" Yes, I was one of those obnoxious drunks.

We went home and I made my famous quesadilla, but this time they turned out black because I used an old pan, but I ate it anyway.

I woke up the next day at 7:30AM and read for pleasure. No hang over, just sunshine. Sake does my body good. I was upset that no one else up that early on Sunday. What's wrong with ALL OF YOU!?! Don't waste the day!!!!!

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How do I feel being so old? Great. I am happy with where I am- I am surrounded by company I adore. I have a new handcrafted giraffe painted, a solar powered flower (because I kill real ones), a whole bunch of small books (cuz I have ADD), a new appreciation from Asian spongey cake, Sake and meats and some cards full of LOVE.

Thank you everyone for the messages and keeping the vibe positive at 321.

Wifebeaters in Suspenders

But really. It's Monday ...

The only statement we're making is the one you're thinking.






These gogo dancers didn't know how to dance to Missy Elliot.. they just looked constipated. Someone cue the bad house music, these boys are starting think about rhythm.


. Yeah Mustache Mondays! Felt good to be a character instead of an observer.

A guy I met at our Kick Back said that the evening he spent with us dispelled all his negative thoughts about LA. I asked him where he lived.

He said the west side. *boooo HISSSSS booooo!!!!*

Sorry man, I used all my valet parking money and got us all suspenders.
LOL! Fucking hipster.

Next event- gay roller skating... with short shorts and long socks like Jessica Simpson.

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On the flipside, I'm going to an "A-List" party in Hollywood with co-workers at My House... Jessica Alba maybe there... lol

Only in LA can you go grudge to chic in walking driving distance