Notes from LA. Party Prep
February 9, 2010
Our (formerly Kiwi) girl in LA, Belinda, decides to get ready for her birthday in true LA style.
Party prep and beyond . . .
I’m turning 35.
Which to be honest is a little shocking; I’m not sure how it came up so quickly?
But nonetheless, my dates are not wrong and my birthday is in fact fast approaching.
Despite my disbelief, 35 or 25, I am not one to let a birthday pass uncelebrated.
I am in fact a huge advocate (much to my husband’s dismay) of the “birthday week”.
Thus I planned a party. (Obviously I also, have, no shame in planning my own celebration).
My fellow controlling, “A type” personalities will understand the need to personally manage such an event. Down to the smallest detail, perfection and nothing less, is the only expectable benchmark.
To be quite honest I’m a seasoned party planner. I need not blow my own trumpet, as I know too well my good friends would concede as such.
Parties, be they mine, my husbands, friends, the children . . . I do it all. And I do it as if I am Martha Stewart incarnate. I do not exaggerate.
My point . . . the party was a synch. Me, now that was the hard part!
Until quite recently I had relied solely on youth and genetics to get me by. That and a rocking frock and I was good to go.
Weeks away from turning 35, I can freely admit that it takes a little more these days.
This is my “little bit more” . . . . (Fledglings, learn form my mistakes: 101: don’t sunbathe. Period.)
I’ve spent the last 6 months in an IPL and Microdermobrasin cycle, and the results mean my facial skin is looking pretty good. Not perfect, but it’ll do.
Thus a bit of foundation and make up on the night, and, true to my kiwi roots, “she’ll be right mate”.
My “rocking frock” . . . . is truly super rocking. I found a strapless mini from H&M, gold, silver, pearl and black, and less then half the price of the original Alexander Wang dress I fell for.
Shoes: uber cool black booties with a gold metal heel. Woohooo!
I bought these online at shopbop.com and they’re by Elizabeth and James - yes the label of Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen.
So my outfit if sorted and totally hot . . . . next,
Hair: this was easy. Strapless dress. Out. I simply made an appointment to get it “blown out”. My hair is long, really long and has a natural wave, so I went with this and opted for a 50″s ish glamour wavy look. Totally worked!
Thus you ask, what needs doing? Much . . . .
But primarily, one of two things.
My dress is a mini. And as I said I’m turning 35, not 25. Thus my thighs in the wrong light can appear a tad “cottage cheesy”. Sigh . . . . it’s true.
However, despite my consistent gym regime, I decide to make sure there was nothing bumpy, absolutely nothing, about them and opted for a last minute, do what you can with what you’ve got “fake tan”.
Ironically being in LA the whole idea of a “fake tan” scares the bejjessis out of me. One word comes to mind, and it’s not pretty, not at all . . . . orange.
The whole idea of getting a spray tan here in LA is for me, on par with the boobs - can they do subtle??
I’m looking for Sunkist, a glow, not Lindsay Lohan smoking ciggies at Marmont - orange. Or Jessica Simpson stumbling down Koi’s steps on LA Cieniga - orange.
I’m scared.
I ask around, and to be honest get mixed reports. I’m even more scared.
However when I do the whole “pros and con” thing I go for orange over cottage cheese.
I’m getting a spray tan.
To be clear, there is literally a tanning place on every corner in LA. I kid you not. And friends experiences amount to nothing definitive, good or bad.
Thus I make my decision based on location and their reality show (of course).
Cut me some slack I live in LA . . . . one has to presume that if it made it to TV
(everyone wants to be on TV ) it must be “ok”.
Sunset Tan . . . . it’s at the end of my road.
Yes, on arrival I recognised everyone in the store from 2005 . . . or whenever that show was airing.
Anyway, it was super clean, the girls behind the counter looked hot and not at all orange, it looked the “biz”.
I had an appointment and my party was only 3 days away.
To cut a very long story short . . . .that is actually a complete exaggeration, I was in the the place for all of like 15 minutes tops.
I checked in, I looked at the floor so as to not give a way my obvious recognition of the staff from TV.
I met Amy, my tanner, (if that’s what they call them).
She showed me to a room that had three black walls. We discussed what I wanted. And I repeated “Sunkist” to her somewhat obsessively.
I took all my clothes off. All.
She came back with gun in hand, an air gun. This was attached to a compressor thingy, which was full of “orange” paint I guess??, she sprayed me as I stood, butt naked, in a variety of poses.
She deserves a medal. Some of those poses would have been anything from pretty, especially from where she was standing.
Let me just say, bend over, hold your ankles . . . .
It took 5 minutes max. She was super professional.
I paid - US75. I left.
The day of my party, my tan was, as I had discussed with Amy, subtle. I looked like I’d been “sun kissed”. No lumps in sight. And nothing orange about it.
For the record, you can choose orange or anything in between sun kissed and the big O, if that’s what you’re into.
It was, without doubt worth every penny, and I would, without hesitation do it again in a second.!!!
It is also my opinion (and only an opinion) that the difference between a good fake tan and a bad fake tan may well be “the poses”.
My Sunkist glow, was perfectly even, I was perfectly covered with no lines, no patches, no fake ness about it.
Party ready.
35 ready . . . . . hmmmmmm.
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