Every time I drive home from Hollywood through Laurel Canyon, I pass this billboard on Ventura Boulevard that proclaims “AWESOMETOWN: New homes from $200,000.” with pictures of happy running children, a tract home, and a sterile building. And every time I think “Really? Are you serious?” I mean, I understand that “ALL YOU CAN AFFORDTOWN” isn’t a great ad campaign, but AWESOMETOWN? Forgive me Valencians, but you can’t actually believe this about where you live. What I wonder is this: have the ad people have ever actually been to Valencia? And further: do they believe that Valencia is “awesome” or are they attempting to perpetrate a fraud on the rest of us?
I’ll grant Valencia is home to Cal Arts and Magic Mountain, but apart from those two draws, relative to oh, just about anywhere else in LA County, I’d hardly characterize it as “awesome,” I mean, unless white people, malls, and a town frighteningly evocative of the Truman Show is “awesome” in your book. I’ve always felt like one of the joys of Los Angeles is its messy unplanned nature. The freeway system, viewed from above, looks like a tangle of string or pasta. In any given strip mall you can buy pinatas, shop for Armenian groceries, get a pedicure and have a doughnut, and never have to utter a word of English. LA is random, untidy, and by turns charming and ridiculous. Valencia, on the other hand, is sanitized and sterile. It always makes me feel like I’m in biosphere or Logan’s Run. If I’m there for any period of time, I have to double check my palm to make sure that I don’t have a stone turning black set in the middle of it. I know “I CAN’T WAIT TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERETOWN” doesn’t scan very well, but who are you trying to sell houses to by billing yourself this way, Valencia? Twelve year-olds?
Did anyone else notice this full-page gem in the LA Weekly this week? I look at this and I think “Goddess“? “Fitness”? Wrong. Wrong.
This is noxious on so many levels it’s hard to know where to begin, but let’s say this much at least–maybe this is “the most fun you will ever have in fitness” because make-overs, weight loss, champagne, parties, boutiques, performances, and so on, have, in fact, nothing at all to do with fitness.
But maybe I am being too dismissive. Clearly, more thought went into the development of classes and fitness programs than you might think on first glance. Emma Ridley, the owner of this fitness emporium cogently explains: “At Goddess Fitness there is no right or wrong way to move, it is just movement.” I don’t know about you, but I feel fitter already. I’m even moving while I’m typing this post right now.
Not only can you learn to pole dance and have a make-over here, you can get a dye job and a Brazilian as well because what’s a goddess without a decent pelvic thrust and a body smooth as a balloon? I know I’m ridiculously retro, nay, even prehistoric, to question the empowering nature of stripper heels and hairless twats–I admit, my feminism got beached before the third wave–but can we at least agree that these things are not “fitness”? For god’s sake LA, get a grip. This is not an easy town to be a woman in. Truly.
And then there’s the video. Do you suppose there’s some kind of platinum membership level that gives you the boobs too?
Ok, gird your loins for snark. Fall Fashion Week is coming, and while looking around online for info I ran into this–excerpted below–which, okay, okay, is for last year–but I just couldn’t resist posting their portrait of the “fashion forward Angeleno.” Get this: “…the beautiful Angeleno cannot live without her sage green YSL bag and eco-friendly denim while jumping into her hybrid.”
Does this mean I’m marked for death without my sage green YSL bag? Boy howdy, am I bummed I’m not one of the beautiful people right now. Where’s MY hybrid?! Will they march me to the city limits if I don’t have a hybrid–perhaps even “in shades of lime, mint and Kelly green, reflecting the palette of an environmentally friendly spring season”—by fall? I, too, wish to “run errands in grey and purple wool oversized sweaters”! I want to “look no further than this season’s feminine looks to seal the perfect evening outfit to celebrate spring at celebrity and fashionista favorite hotspot, Hyde.” I know I want to “celebrate spring” at a celebutante bar, definitely. Can’t *I* “drive to the trendy shops of Robertson Boulevard, ready to pick up spring season essentials”? Essentials? I thought essentials were toilet paper, soap and DSL. OMG, color me SOOOO last season!!! [claps hands to cheeks, aghast] How could I be so…so…UNFASHIONABLE?! The horror!!!
This breezy bulls**t marketing blurbage is so awesome in all the wrong ways, I keep trying to dig up this fall’s version of the same thing, but alas, the current Fall Fashion Week website offers no gems as brilliant as this. Click thru for the full version in all its vapid glory.