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Despite popular belief, the majority of southern california natives rarely make it over to Rodeo Dr. Beverly Hills. Not because the traffic is hellacious but merely since the stores at hand are ridiculously out of the middle class’s budget..And my own to be frank. So what exactly was I doing out there today you may be asking? I offered my chauffeuring expertise by transporting my confidante, Caitlin Harroun, to a model casting for a jewelry company.
The plan was to attend a few meetings myself throughout the duration of her modeling shenanigans but they unfortunately fell through last minute. That was only one of the several luckless incidents to occur today whilst out and about. After two years of being an LA local and visiting countless times for work related crap, the city poses even now to, in short, hate me. I’m unsure If I’ve ticked off some urban west-coast god that may rule the land but since I can remember, bad luck has taken a liking to me upon entering the county.
Focusing on the highlight of the day, which happened to be walking Rodeo itself, I was pleasantly surprised to how chic the stores were displayed. From the vast window designs, to the sophisticated salesman, everything HAD in fact been like the movies. This wasn’t my first time on the strip but it was my first time experiencing the stores and interior compositions. It was pretty magical people.
I can’t say I was disappointed in what I wore, for it was more than appropriate. A Topman suit: focusing the blazer as a cape over a 2009 throwback graphic tee was a rather “modern blogger” thing of me to do. Tucked it, belted it, then aided my sore trotters with some high tops for a footloose memoir you could say. Since I had a little bit of old, I needed a little bit of new so in came the Coach bag. Big, bright and mustard. THEN… there was my hair *record rips*