There are a lot of people in Los Angeles who get decked out in full regalia every day, just in case. By this, I mean that they blow dry their hair or put product in it or put makeup on and make sure they are wearing something versatile but hot. Every day. Because you never know, in this city, when fabulosity may strike. A lot of actors and models and so forth end up getting discovered because they happened to already be ready to go, in the split second the iron was hot here.

The thing is that it tends to be a split second of hot opportunity. Because, due to a combination of flakitude and being on the forefront of cell phone technology, most party plans here are made at the last minute. If someone phones to tell you to look off your balcony because their car is outside, you can be relatively sure they will not flake before you get across your lawn. I pretty much only use the phone to (a) say I’m running late, (b) ask where to park or (c) compare notes on the party I am at with the party someone else is at. The last minute thing is also because everybody, who already has the hookup, works long and unpredictable hours. The various entertainment industries may yield fun jobs, but work is still work and tends to come first for anyone committed to what they do. Which is an awfully high proportion people in this city. I know I can’t be ready to go all the time because I work way way way too much and I have a lot of days where I end up having to put out unexpected fires. (Flame is the official metaphor for this feature article.)

So there is this really excellent raw foods place which has opened up near me. Real Raw Live has great smoothies, super cool and friendly people, and the best cashew burgers in the universe. So I’ve been telling my pal J that he has to check it out and he keeps almost making plans to do so and then flaking. Which is totally normal for Hollywood. So we are supposed to go over there and get delicious raw food smoothies and J, who is also a photographer, calls me on my cell, with his cell, to tell me that actually the Corbis photo agency is having a party that night and he doesn’t think he got an email on it, but Corbis called his cell to remind him and the shindig is at The Cabana Club, which is pretty close to me. He asks if we could shift the plans around a little. I tell him I have a headache and I’m tired and I’m going to flake.

Then I remember that I made a birthday resolution to get out more. The resolution was simply that I realized it was too difficult to pick the specific most perfect events to attend in such a vibrant city, so I resolved to just say “yes” to more of the invitations I get from all of the interesting people I know. And I do know an interesting and diverse cross-section of the population. This might seem like I resolved to take the path of least resistance, but, believe me, the path of least resistance for me is just to work through all waking hours. I’d already showered and my hair looked fine, so I surprise J by hitting him back on his cell and saying that I was going to keep my resolution and I was going to go to the party with him after all (after I got my raw smoothie.) He says he was thinking about flaking, but so long as we don’t get there ten minutes before it is over, it should be cool. He tells me he should come get me in about a half an hour. I tell him I’ll need a half hour more than that to get dressed. We agree on an hour. We finally hook up after an hour and a half. Traffic is insane because apparently some band is playing at the Hollywood Bowl.

J and I and actress Sydney Lauren all head over to The Cabana Club. Sydney Lauren had to get dressed in the dark because, ironically enough, her roommate spaced on her electric bill and is now unreachable on her cell because she is at the bad traffic-inducing concert at the Hollywood Bowl. We park in a parking garage up the street and there is this bizarre collection of things in there with a whiteboard sign behind them, bearing the legend: The CAGE RETURN ALL ITEMS TO WHERE YOU FOUND THEM. This seems like a suitably surreal start to the evening and it does not occur to me until later that the garage is near a film school and perhaps doubles as storage for filmmaking props. It does not occur to Sydney until later (after the open bar) that maybe she should do a dance with the wooden Jesus on a chain she finds amongst the props. I convince her not to take it with her. Since when am I the voice of reason? J is unconcerned about the unconventional shape of the parking spot as he is driving a rental care because his BMW SUV has been in the shop for the past month because of, I kid you not, a safety feature. But that is a story for another time.

So we end up walking the red carpet and being photographed by Frank Trapper who has photographed a veritable who’s who of Hollywood over the past decades. Frank Trapper’s packager Welcome Books is one of the goodie bag sponsors for the party and, during the party, they did a couple of giveaways of his book Red Carpet: 20 Years of Fame and Fashion, edited by Katrina Fried. Welcome Books is, like Blue Blood, both a publisher and a packager. What this means, in their case, is that they put books together and sometimes they publish them in-house and sometimes other people publish them. When someone else is the publisher, we call that packaging. I believe Welcome packaged the Red Carpet book, but Random House is the publisher. The goodie bags also contained the coffee table book Cinema By The Bay, by Sheerly Avni, published by George Lucas Books, but also packaged by Welcome Enterprises. The book is about the specific sensibilities of big San Francisco-based filmmakers. I got a nifty new shirt from Royal Guard. The absolute best and most inspired swag of the evening was the Corbis Rubix cube with photos by Corbis photogs on it. J and I wheeled and dealed for which of us would get which color shirt and which tote bag. I ended up with the lavender Royal Guard shirt and the green Welcome Books tote, which smells like a new car, only weird. The Corbis tote bag was black, but I felt I could part with it because most goodie bag events I go to have black totes and there are only so many black canvas book bags any person needs.

So comedian Chris Wylde texts us a series of barely intelligible and totally unrepeatable (but funny) messages from the Viper Room. As Chris Wylde is always a blast (and the open bar is over), we head over to the Viper Room. I’m pleased to run into Casper again there and he is rocking a sort of riverboat gambler look. He generally is wearing the season after next’s fashions today, so I’m hoping this is an augury of things to come because that is a nice look on a man. Apparently, Viper Room security, although pleasant and polite, would prefer it if no one took snapshots at the bottle service tables, even if they are sitting there. Who knew? Chris Wylde points out that he says “great things” so we should probably go somewhere less loud.

After a comedy of errors, where six of us managed to switch who was in what car more times than should have been mathematically possible, most of us eventually ended up at Snake Pit. We meet up with Brian Walsh aka Forty from the Chris Wylde Show (although I don’t place him until some time about five minutes before typing this.) We end up debating all manner of things that I probably can’t repeat here, not only with our table, but with neighboring beer patrons as well. It is that kind of bar. Although I’ve been told by multiple people that Slash, of Guns ‘N Roses and Velvet Revolver fame, owns this pub, I’ve never seen him there nor seen any verification I would trust. Regardless, it is a very barlike bar, with a lot of good microbrews, and that is nice and harder to come by in Los Angeles than one might guess.

And all I wanted was a smoothie. The moral is that, in Los Angeles, like in the Boy Scouts (like I’d know), it is always good to be prepared because you never know what might come up.

Fun Fact to Know and Share: Although Chris Wylde is probably most familiar from his role as the hot funny guy on Julie “Earth Girls Are Easy” Brown’s Strip Mall TV show or his more recent turn as the horny beast in the Del Taco Feed the Beast commercials, he also had a bit part in the movie My First Mister. There is a scene in a sex shop in My First Mister where a number of blasphemous dildos are on display. Blue Blood traded beer to the person responsible for props on said major motion picture there. In return for said dildos. Yes, I traded beer for blasphemous sex toys. Which I then ran through the dishwasher, to be on the safe side, and then Forrest Black and I used them in photo shoots for some of the BarelyEvil sets on BlueBlood.com. Even Blue Blood sex toys are famous. And, no, I am not going to Hell because I stopped Sydney Lauren from stealing the wooden Lord and savior from the film students. Although, come to think of it, Lord knows what they will do with it.

Well, damn, if we didn’t all have a really good time at the Golden Gals Gone Wild gallery show this weekend. I admit I was, to a certain extent, dubious about the concept. I wasn’t really allowed to watch television as a child. My parents didn’t want me to turn out weird or antisocial or anything. So I have never seen the TV show Golden Girls, although I understand it is about a group of charismatic elderly babes who still speak like human beings, instead of like people’s warped concept of what people are supposed to act like as they age. I have this pretty much on hearsay and having walked through a room where the TV was on. So, anyway, I’m sure there were nuances in the work displayed this past Saturday which would have spoken to someone more versed in old television shows.

Curator Lenora Claire spent $110 on an oil painting by artist Chris Zimmerman off eBay, featuring Golden Girls actress Bea Arthur (I think she was the sexy one, but maybe that was Blanche Devereaux.) in the nude. Lenora Claire loved the painting and decided that it’s existence in her possession was a great reason to throw a massive multi-artist gallery show to celebrate the whole theme. I was charmed by the idea, as a lot of projects I end up blowing up into ridiculously huge things start off with exactly the same sort of thought process.

I had additional really excellent reasons for going to the gallery show, despite my innocence of sitcoms of yesteryear. First, Blue Blood’s own Ed Mironiuk did a sleekly latex-clad Bea Arthur for the show, which was featured in fliers and all that good stuff, but I love seeing art in person and I like to support my friends’ creative output and I like to see Ed Mironiuk, but he lives on the East Coast. Also, some of my unsavory pals and I thought having gone would be an entertaining conversation piece. One of my friends was threatening to spend the whole time texting people to tell them “hey, guess what I’m at!” It seemed like half the people in the gallery space actually had cell phones out and were doing this and it made for a super packed event.

The art show at the World of Wonder Storefront Gallery on Hollywood Boulevard transcended the theme, however. I did not have to be an aficionado of the show to really enjoy the art there. Kudos to Lenora Claire for gathering up a really interesting diverse group of creative people. A few standouts including amazing use of texture were Jason Mercier’s junk portrayal of Rue McLanahan and Elmer Presslee’s flowery Bea. The punk fantasy of Austin Young’s piece was a cool take on the theme, which made me look him up when I got home. In the clean commercial lines department, I really liked the superhero quadtych (Is that a word — like triptych only four?), a little blue naughty piece, and of course Glen Hanson’s piece, which was also used for commemorative T-shirts. I can’t believe I didn’t take a picture of Glen Hanson, as he was wearing essentially gold lamé underwear and looked delightfully striking. And it took something to be striking in a room where go go dancers sported giant paper maché granny heads and a DJ complained that they had been planning to hang work by club kid killer Michael Alig. No idea why Alig didn’t show, but I’m guessing a club kid famous mostly for killing someone because he couldn’t figure out how to otherwise acquire drugs . . . well, I’m just saying there is some Darwinism there and maybe not so much responsibility.

Luminaries in attendance included Blue Blood head designer/artist Forrest Black, Blue Blood hottie Scar 13, Blue Blood hottie Xochitl (who Forrest Black and I each thought the other had photographed that night), artist Kristin Tercek of Cuddly Rigor Mortis fame, writer/gadfly Clint Catalyst reporting for BuzzNet, writer/director Ramzi Abed creator of The Black Dahlia Movie, editor Tony Pierce from the LAist, fashion designer Adele Mildred, and writer Tucker Max who was there to support Rudius Media artist Jim Wirt of Coloring Book Land.

Incidentally, I mentioned in a previous feature on Tucker Max that he was coy about whether or not he did cocaine. It seemed to me, in a very funny story he wrote about a Las Vegas vacation, that he was deliberately avoiding committing to whether or not he had done blow in the land of casinos. He would like me to share that he would absolutely have just said it, if he was nose down in white powder and that, in point of fact, he has never done, and never intends to do, cocaine. I’ve been trying to decide if I agree with the Tucker Max theory of “beer and hot chicks” versus “hookers and blow,” but I’ll have to get back to y’all on that one.

Clint Catalyst, fresh off his acting turn with Michelle Tea and Guinevere Turner in In the Spotlight told me he started off the evening with a lot more makeup and had gone through five outfits over the course of the night. At the bottom of the page, you can see the video Clint Catalyst shot, including some footage of Forrest Black at the beginning.

I have to say that I kind of wished I had brought a change of clothes because it was ridiculously hot in the gallery. My clothing was so drenched with sweat that I actually did go home and change my shirt before going to an afterparty. (Admittedly, my home is on Hollywood Blvd, in between where the gallery is and the house in the Hollywood Hills I was going to afterwards, but it was hot.) It was so hot inside that what might normally be delicate napkin-blotting to avoid damaging makeup quickly became the full on athletic-style blot or face squeegee. World of Wonder could stand to invest in some A/C. You will notice in the photos of the event that Scar and I are making what appear to be peculiar gang signs; we are fanning ourselves in the oppressive heat.

Excessive warmth notwithstanding, whether or not attendees were Golden Girls fans, I think everyone had a good time. I got to see tons of people I like, who I don’t see every day. There was a crazy mix of people. In fact, the demographics were so mixed that it was like a game of rock/paper/scissors whether people were going to go in for the handshake, the Hollywood hug, or the cheek kiss. I’m usually not a big fan of kitsch, because I feel an artist should truly own what they create and not hide behind irony, but a lot of the Golden Gals Gone Wild artists really rose to the occasion and it was a smashing fun event. I can tell it is going to be a really fun time in Los Angeles this season, can practically smell it on Hollywood Blvd. Not that I want to go around smelling Hollywood, but you get my meaning.

DJ Xian likes to throw big events for big dates. Halloween is coming up, so you know she’ll be throwing another Hex Hollywood bash. Along with the venerable Panpipes, Blue Blood sponsored the last Hex Hollywood bacchanalia on 06/06/06. In honor of the date, the theme was Angels, Devils, Saints, Sinners, Undead, Nuns, Priests, Gods, Monsters, Virtues, and Vices. Costumes turned out heavy on the angels and devils. A highlight of the evening was the performance by the crew from CORE, Constructs of Ritual Evolution. A low point of the evening was when we broke a lens. As it turned out, the gentleman, who tripped over the cord attached to our camera, was gallant enough to kick in a few bucks towards a new one and then Samy’s gave us a truly godlike deal on a replacement, so it ended up not being so bad after all. In this series of some of the hottest looks from the night, you’ll see where we change lenses and backdrops, so now you won’t have to wonder why. All in all, Xian’s “three levels of pleasure and pain” was a huge extravaganza, packed with people who really did it up, and had plenty of fun.

Hex Hollywood Pictures by Forrest Black and Amelia G

Hex Hollywood Site