A very good friend of mine was recently here to attend the Grammys. The following night began a handful of events that I had the honor of being "arm-candy" for. I was tickled of course as my sixty inches in height don't usually qualify me as such... I met Mr. Scott Healy a very nice ( and extremely talented) man...and had fun being out and about in Hollywood. It's funny how it happens...but for me, say I get a paper-cut...I cannot seem to get through another forty eight hours without getting at least three or four more. Yes...odd. So I'm in Hollywood...then a week later I'm in Studio City to see Mr. Healy and his band and Ruby Friedman...an absolute, whimsical, wonder on stage...and the next two days in a row, I'm back in Hollywood for this and that's...one of which included stopping by Paramount Studios...another visit had me directly in front of a favorite actress's house... Since that time, it's happened that I've found myself there probably nine additional times ... not including today when I accidentally made a wrong turn coming home from down-town... My friend (who is a heart), was staying in a tiny...and I mean even for me a TINY hotel room on Sunset...with his manager...and sleeping ( or trying too) on an air-mattress. How UN-GLAMOROUS! And what a hell of a story he has to go along with it! That's the point though...well, one of them... I did give him money to get his own room for the night...it just wasn't even sanitary...and I've got boys!
It's never as easy as we'd like it to be...our plans usually end up changing last minute...wardrobe does malfunction, I do carry a sewing kit with me...and always and extra few strands of pearls... but really, how heinous and boring would it be to read " I went to Beverly Hills, stayed at the Beverly Wilshire, partied with all the "it" stars from the Grammys...slept with so and so...and then flew first class back home"??? Really? who in the ever loving world wants to read that?! I'm terribly sorry, but the fairy tales scared me even as a child...I still believe in magic...but there's got to be a good and WORTHY story behind it.
In my struggles, I'm seeing also my story unravel. The story that will one day be an Academy Award winning movie ... possibly one where the lead actress has yet to even be born.
As I slosh through rain, in and out of the few store's that are carrying Melli (on consignment) ...some of which I'm paying rent to be in...bringing friends with me to help change the cases up...or simply take things out and hide them for a month as money is short and new materials are hard to buy...doing everything I can not to cry of shame and humiliation when I see that nothing has changed since I was there last, and nobody's even opened the case (that I sold the second half of my wedding silver to buy) ... I remind myself that this is something toTELL. THIS is all becoming part of my story, it's molding me into the woman I've always seen myself being.
At the very least, it's something to use against younger generations instead of the "when I was your age I walked to school without shoes, in a snow storm, up hill BOTH WAYS" etc etc etc... :)
The hard part is the easy part...it's not that people aren't looking or liking my things...people aren't in the stores at all...they don't have the ability to like or not like because they don't see.
My sum up of all this? My dreams of design have always rotated around this City of Angels...even though a great number of those angels have lost some feathers...some even an entire wing...I believe that as Aerosmith so awesomely played " Life's a journey, not a destination"... I do also believe that the only truth anybody can really be one hundred percent certain of, is that which they've given themselves.
So, tonight I'll sign off with this...
Beyond forever... become a legend... I'll be there with you.
Angels-Angels and as always, quite kindly,
Melli D
