Autumn has finally arrived in Los Angeles and it’s about damn time, too. I’m sitting here sipping one of Kevin’s amazing Bellinis at St. Felix Hollywood in a black velvet blazer and jeans, so thankful to finally wear some actual clothes.
It’s especially satisfying to be fully clad having just returned from our usual October trip to San Jose del Cabo, where we lived in swim trunks for a week. I know my kind of swim trunks aren’t for everyone but, as I thought to myself one afternoon while lounging by the pool, at least there weren’t so many obese Americans around this year. Then I glanced over at the swim-up bar where it looked like a herd of water buffalo had decided to take advantage of happy hour.
Once I got home, I immediately jumped into fall L.A.-style with Claire and David’s Annual Pumpkin Carving Party, a red carpet launch for my friend Doug Spearman’s upcoming film Hot Guys With Guns and a screening of Cloud Atlas, which is beautiful and brutal and quite a feat of filmmaking. With all this plus the last presidential debate and all the election stuff, it seemed a challenge to think much about fashion. Hell, there’s so much going on right now I can barely dress myself!