
Meet Tamsin Lonsdale. Blonde, extroverted, well mannered, and fashionable. So fashionable that she once worked as a stylist for Italian Vogue. She sounds lovely, yes? Indeed. Her description also matches those of hundreds of other well-coiffed blondes out there.
But Lonsdale is different, deserving of a second look. Make that a third, fourth, even a fifth look. In fact, all eyes, especially those of Los Angeles' elite, are on her. Why? Simple. Because they want in at her club. The Supper Club, to be precise.
No, she hasn't made the career move from Vogue stylist to L.A. club promoter. The Supper Club is not a nightclub in any way, shape, or form. It's a private, members-only traveling dinner club, created by the London darling through dinner parties thrown at her own home. And while The Supper Club isn't L.A.'s new Thursday night hotspot, it does have quite a wait list (currently 700 people deep in L... More >> ..
Imagine one of the best restaurants ever- it doesn't require a reservation, it's affordable, and it's healthy enough to eat there many times a week. To top it off, it is animal-friendly!
As a Southern California native, I'm rather familiar with the 4 and 5 star hotels that have popped up along Orange County's coastline. There's the long-standing Ritz-Carlton, the St. Regis, and the most recent success, The Montage in Laguna Beach. Each hotel has had its ups and downs, but after my delightful weekend at The Ritz-Carlton, Laguna Niguel, I believe its safe to say that the Ritziest of them all is quite certainly back on top. It's important to give credit where credit is due. The reason behind The Ritz-Carlton's resurgence as the hotel to beat? Its recent $40 million renovation.
The reinvented look has resulted in a fresher, statelier, and refined version of its previous self. Not to say that The Ritz wasn't fresh, stately, or refined in the first place, because it certainly was, but the renovation has allowed the hotel to take the design leap it needed into 2010 and beyond.
The guest rooms are equipped with oversized beds, luxurious silky bedding, and expansive wall-mounted flat screens...
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It's a popular phenomenon in L.A., well anywhere really, to eat at a potentially killer new restaurant the very first night it opens. Even the first week, for those of you not fortunate enough to get the prized first-night reservation. If you missed the premiere week, you still have a chance to be one of the lucky few to experience The Tasting Kitchen during its 8-week trial period. Located in Venice on famed Abbot Kinney, the first few weeks of the restaurant are an experiment of sorts: a culinary experiment, an atmospheric experiment, and an experience experiment.
Quaint, chic, charming, understated, private. Aren't these the qualities that everyone hopes to find in a weekend getaway? I definitely do. I most always prefer the wonderful things in life that are somewhat subdued, less glittery and opulent, exuding a little more laid-back class than the rest. I'm always looking for something that is "just right."
I recently enjoyed exactly that, finding all those characteristics, which were achieved without seeming too, I don't know, manufactured, at the lush Colony Palms Hotel in Palm Springs, CA. Because I have an endless amount of lovely praise for the Colony Palms, I'll focus on my three favorite parts of the boutique charmer. First, my beautifully furnished and stocked casita. Second, my delicious dinner at the Purple Palm Restaurant & Bar, and finally, the laid-back poolside vibe.
Upon entering my "just right" casita, I immediately felt at ease, taking in the feel of the cool white walls, orange floral headboard, and immaculate bathroom... More >> ..
Let's address the elephant, or in this case, the giraffe in the room. Undoubtedly, the combination is questionable: incorporating delicate French fare with The Wild Things?
JiRaffe, a Santa Monica bistro, responds to the question without a second thought, as if the combination of east meets west was their original idea. Chef Raphael Lunetta subtly combines the classic with the exotic; it's fresh, noteworthy, and deserving of a second taste. Using the freshest local ingredients, he accomplishes this in a healthy way without subjecting the patrons to the pre-made flavors and tastes so common in fusion cuisine.
To experience the Frenchier side of the offerings at JiRaffe, go on a Monday evening and sample the prix-fix bistro menu. I suggest ordering as I did... the handsome man-boy who accompanied me to JiRaffe opted for the exact opposite of what I did, so we tasted all of Lunetta's specialties. A peppery shot of mushroom soup with delicate champignon foam and chives kicked off the meal--our taste buds were officially rolling...
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So check it out: as my Hills stint comes to an end over the next few months (or years- eek! Who knows when the madness will really culminate?), I'm making the transition into television hosting. Think Kelly Ripa, think The View, think all things fabulous and fresh. In anticipation of my career switch from reality TV persona to killer TV host, MTV has been kind enough to allow me to practice my skills via the platform of The MTV Movie Awards on May 31. All this week I'll act as a guest correspondent for MTV News, hosting segments for the network to get viewers pumped for the big show. My segments will focus on young Hollywood and how the average hot young thing prepares for and celebrates award season.
Saunter into SLS and you'll be immediately struck by its randomness. All sorts of things are packed in here: chairs adorned with antlers, a bar stool made of hair (or something long, black, and wiry resembling hair-eek!), stunning pieces of crystal art for sale, framed photographs of Leo and Gisele dodging the paps, and more. It's all beguiling, wonderful, and bizarre. Perhaps the hotel's Spanish chef, José Andrés, landed upon the name "The Bazaar" after strolling through the unique lobby himself. José Andrés, master of wit in addition to cuisine? Probably not, but I dig the experience of being at the SLS, with all the knickknacks and the food and the people, nonetheless.
I had brunch at The Bazaar, the four-star restaurant located off the dazzling lobby, on a recent lazy Sunday, when tasty food and an afternoon of lounging sounded right up my alley. Perfect for a family brunch, the food is served tapas-style: small portions and lots of variety... More >> ..
I had a skincare revelation a few years back. As I was sunning myself one hot Laguna Beach day, I realized, "If I keep this up, I'll only worsen my chances of getting some sort of skin cancer-or worse, wrinkles!"
Comme Ça is distinctly L.A. chic and fabulous. From the décor to its patrons, the French brasserie is far more than just a place to enjoy delicious fare. Combining a nicely equipped bar-not to mention the cheese and raw bars-with white leather banquette seats and mirror-adorned walls, the place suggests what would happen if The Great Gatsby met Jonathon Adler in your father's library. The dark wood paneling and bookcases, the pop offered by the bright red accent pillows, and the chance to watch beautiful people gaze longingly at their own reflections in the myriad mirrors make Comme Ça sexy with a twist of deliciously ironic humor.
It's best to let the atmosphere go to your head here, though. Let it all go. Be utterly fabulous. Allow yourself to indulge in the scene as much as the bright young thing seated next to you, toting her cream-colored Chanel bag in all its glory, is indulging.
Have a martini, chilled to perfection with ice chipped off the bar's enormous block...
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Never experienced a Thai massage? No, not the gross kind with a happy ending, you huge pervs-though I did leave feeling rather content.
The exceptionally thorough, intense, Zen-like massage I speak of can be found at Silver Lake's The Raven Spa (El Leon Spa is the Raven's sister spa). The spa is tucked away on Rowena on the Eastside, and you enter it through an open breezeway full of beautiful potted plants, paper umbrellas, and bamboo furniture.
After checking in with a receptionist who seemed far too calm for L.A. (I suspect she gets the Thai massage every other day, which would explain her friendly, serene state), I was led through the main massage room, which truly took my breath away. I'd never seen anything like it, and I knew right away that I was in for a spa experience that is not only above and beyond in quality but unique to our city.
The main massage room is full of massage mats evenly spaced on dark wooden platforms; curtains separate each space from the next...
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US Weekly may rate it a "not hot" on its "hot or not" scale, but if you're a Runyon Canyon regular, that is sweet, sweet music to your sunburned, but very physically fit, ears.
It's "not hot" because the paparazzi don't swarm there as often as they used to now that Lindsay Lohan no longer frequents the place regularly. If Runyon Canyon were a club, it would have been shut down and turned into something new by now.
But it's not a club. It's mother-f*****g nature, and that never gets old in my little black book. Despite its "so over" reputation among the trend-driven folks in town, Runyon still provides some of the best hiking trails in Los Angeles, not to mention spectacular views of the entire city, from downtown to the ocean.
There are many ways to get to the top at Runyon-three ways in particular, if you think about it the way I do:
1...
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Huckleberry opened just a few days ago, and it's already the hottest lunch ticket in town. I was there on its second day of business, and the line to order food was 16 people deep-I counted. I was also there on its third day of business, which is slightly embarrassing (the employees noticed and cheerfully acknowledged my repeated presence), but it also speaks volumes about the kind of place Huckleberry is: a café that you will want to go to day after day. And most likely, you will.
It's my absolute favorite new place. I get the sense that some loyal readers are starting to think I have a lot of "absolute favorites," but Huckleberry really is totally, utterly, thoroughly perfect.
The food is so, so good. It's savory, casual, and enthusiastically full of flavor. From the first bite, it's easy to see that Zoe and Josh, who also run Rustic Canyon up the street, have a serious passion for food...
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It's hard to imagine that a two-minute jaunt from Sunset can transport the average Angeleno to a setting entirely different from the bright lights and fast-paced vibe of the city. Here, tucked into the deep pockets of trees that blanket the Bel Air hills, sits the neighborhood's namesake hotel: The Hotel Bel-Air. The Bel-Air is a fantasyland; it sucks its guests into an alternate reality of pure escapism with its exquisite service, impeccably groomed grounds, and pale candy-pink exterior paint. I came to the hotel to take it all in, as usual, but more specifically I was there to experience the grand tea service, which is considered by many to be an institution in itself.
I was accompanied by my favorite Pocket Changer, Matt Griffin. We were seated promptly at three o'clock on a stormy Monday afternoon and greeted with warm smiles and bubbling glasses of champagne. Served in the restaurant overlooking Swan Lake, the room itself is reason enough to be entranced by the hotel: it twinkles with soft light, the fireplace crackles merrily, and an air of cozy sophistication is discernable in guests both young and old...
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Las Vegas, a.k.a. America's playground (or, for you naughtier types, Sin City), is guaranteed to live up to its outlandish reputation each and every time you visit.
There are many ways to "do" Vegas. I prefer the no-hassle, soft linens, food-focused, stripperless route-but hey, to each his or her own. If you, too, seek a decadent yet sensible way to experience one of the greatest cities in the world, please read on for my "fabulous people only" guide to living it up in this glittering desert city.
First and perhaps most critical: take to the friendly skies. Fly coach-no one needs to fly first class on a 40-minute jaunt. And leave from Burbank rather than LAX. Trust me on the flying part: on Sunday or Monday afternoon, or at whatever other time you return, when you are dying of nausea and have a pounding headache, you'll be eternally grateful to your Southwest flight crew for getting you home hassle-free, eight hours sooner than all the losers who decided to drive...
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Who: You, all your friends, and hundreds of well-groomed strangers.
What: The house party of all house parties.
When: Friday, from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m. TGIF!
Where: Come on over to MyHouse!!! It's at 7080 Hollywood Blvd. The best place to park is down the alleyway just south of the front lawn.
Why: Different venues spark different aspects of the personality. A lounge soothes-you feel laid-back, super-hip, maybe even a little dark and dangerous. A mega-club, meanwhile, is the opposite: the sweaty, intoxicated anonymity lures even the most timid to abandon their inhibitions and let it all hang out. Each environment has its benefits, but neither extreme is ideal. Instead, consider this revolutionary house party the new "it" destination...
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Move over, Scientology, there's a new sect in town. This religion, however, is about pizza pie instead of aliens, and it's catching on rather quickly.
The shrine of veneration? Pizzeria Mozza, the snazzy pizza joint on the corner of Highland and Melrose. At this restaurant, Mario Batali is God and foodies make up the congregation. The only penance required is the wait for a table (and perhaps an hour of cardio later on), and the food itself is paradise found-heaven on earth.
On a recent trip to my favorite place of worship, I sampled two pizza dishes that I had never tried before. First, the Squash Blossoms, Burrata, and Tomato Pizza: the combination of simple ingredients bursting with flavor makes this pie a winter delight. It's nutty, creamy, and salty. The tomatoes make an excellent base, neither too thick nor too thin. The burrata cheese is doused in olive oil and seasoned with salt, then distributed in lush clumps over the dough...
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Want your hipster friends to be jealous of your weekend? Pack your bags and hit the road. Next stop: The Parker Palm Springs, the oasis in the desert.
The Parker is the ultimate cool kid. It uses acronyms: PSYC, the name of the resort's spa, stands for Palm Springs Yacht Club. Its parents are never home (Mr. and Mrs. Parker are so elusive that they are, in fact, fictitious characters). And it has a sweet pool-multiple pools, in fact.
The rooms here aren't half bad, either. Decorated by Jonathon Adler under the guise of Mrs. Parker, the rooms are impeccably clean, completely comfy, fabulously quirky, and visually enchanting. If your wallet can take the hit, reserve a Junior Suite (about $575 per night). The perks: oversized balconies that extend over the impeccably kept green lawn below, cube beds that provoke deliciously dirty thoughts of tying your getaway partner to its posts, comfy red chairs to read Twilight in, and a mosaic-tiled room that is actually an overgrown shower separate from the main bathroom...
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The holiday (food) spirit has my engine revving, so a simple comparison comes to mind. Who wants to eat a microwaveable Christmas dinner if you can have one homemade? The same goes for Mexican food, yet too frequently people disregard this essential element in a potentially delicious and nutritious gustatory experience.
Pinches Tacos delivers on the home cooking front; everything is extremely fresh and made from scratch. This is real Mexican food, the way it's supposed to be. It's family-run and downright delicious: no waiters in funny costumes assault you, and neither does sauce from a can. Just walk up to the counter, order from the myriad options, and then take your skull-emblazoned number to the table of your choice.
My favorite Pinches Tacos delight is, well, a taco. Given its name, one would hope that the tacos are incredible, and indeed they are. The best on the menu? The Taco Camaron. I don't usually enjoy shrimp, but this tasty treat has me ordering not one, but two, to the elation of my stomach and the envy of all the gawkers driving by...
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Teddy's, the subdued oasis tucked privately away from the trash-filled yet glittering street that is Hollywood Boulevard, captured my heart quite some time ago. Our longstanding love affair began when I turned the ripe old age of 21. Some may scoff at my presumed naiveté, as I am now only a marginally riper and older 22, but in Hollywood, a yearlong love affair constitutes quite a track record.
I fell for Teddy's ambiance first. Burnt-orange candlelight seeped through the darkness. The beat came next: the jams Frankie and Sam pump up are just loud enough. And I felt pretty slick when I bared my infamous black-light-visible-only admittance stamp to the doorman upon re-entry after a mad dash through The Roosevelt's lobby to the ladies' room. But these delights are just pieces in the puzzle that, once complete, reads, "Teddy's es numero uno en mi corazon."
What truly makes Teddy's lovable is the atmosphere...
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