West Hollywood and the Accidental VIPs.

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Happy Thursday!!

Today I have a fun OOTD to share, as well as a funny story from Tuesday's adventures in West Hollywood.

I love this jumpsuit--I found it for 75 NOK at H&M last summer (seriously, I love their summer sales), and it is so freaking easy to style up or down.  And, in the 30+ degree weather happening in LA right now, it was pretty much the only piece I could find that didn't make me feel even more like I was melting! Since we were headed to West Hollywood, I decided to dress it up with some tan heels and gold chains (but not too many gold chains).  The result was both super cute (if I do say myself) and super comfy!

Shop this look:

A common misconception about Hollywood is that it is full of beautiful people, celebrities, all the glitz and glam, yada yada.  But this assumption could not be more wrong. Hollywood itself is actually quite seedy and sketchy--many visitors to LA are quite surprised and disappointed by this.

West Hollywood, however, is where the action is really happening. Here you can expect to find trendy spots (and celeb favorites) like the Pink Taco and historic Chateau Marmont.   The Pink Taco is where Tuesday's adventure began!

The Pink Taco has a great happy hour from 3 to 7pm, and Taco Tuesday deals beginning at 4pm on, well, Tuesdays.  As Mexican food enthusiasts, we decided to take advantage of both deals and rolled up to the Pink Taco at around 3:30 in the afternoon.  This proved to be a wise choice, as we got a table right away.  As with many popular spots in LA, it is smart to go at odd times during the week if you want to avoid crowds or long waits.

Anyhow, back to our happy hour!  I decided to try their house margarita, Kim ordered the sangria, and we shared a ginormous bowl of guacamole while perusing the menu.  The happy hour price for the guac is $8, but let me tell you: you get at least $8 worth of guacamole per serving.  And it is good.  Well worth it in the eyes of this Mexican cuisine enthusiast!

The margarita, salsa, and sangria also got two thumbs up from us.  For dinner, we ordered three pink tacos from the Taco Tuesday menu.

Now, before we continue, let's just address the elephant in the room.  Namely, that this cantina is boasting one racy name.  The humor was not lost on us.  However, the name (dirty as it may be) is derived from a garnish used on their namesake pink tacos.  The pink tacos are served with chicken, beans, cotija cheese, other garnishes, and are topped with pink pickled onions.  The combination is superb! And the prices were not terrible, either: we paid $50 for the both of us before tip. The three tacos, chips, salsa, and guacamole combined with the drinks (I ordered a second one even!) left these ladies feeling stuffed (and, on my part, a bit tipsy).

What happened next was an adventure I do not think I will soon forget.

My LA-themed Costume magazine mentioned the Chateau Marmont several times, and I have read in several Norwegian blogs that they have a great brunch.  So one activity I had requested for while I am in town was brunch at the Chateau.  However, since we were already in the shadow of the famed hotel at Pink Taco, we decided to see if we could have one last drink at the bar at the Chateau.

Apparently this is either impossible, or just very, very difficult to achieve.  I will explain the basis of my conclusion with the following story:

The Chateau Marmont sits atop a slight grade overlooking Sunset Boulevard in West Hollywood.  This hotel is a known hotspot for both celebrities and other VIPs, so it has developed a bit of an exclusive reputation, as well as has been a regular target for paparazzi and the like.  As a result, many entrances, fences, etc. are covered with tall, black shades to protect the privacy of those within.  It is here that our problem began.  What we thought would be a quick walk up the street turned out to be a bit of an adventure in the labrynth as we attempted to find the entrance to one of the hotel's two restaurants.

The only open area appeared to be a driveway leading to the mouth of the parking garage, carefully guarded by a valet in a covered booth.  This area did not seem like a likely restaurant entrance, so we walked past it, certain that the restaurant would await a few steps ahead.


We were met with more entrances shrouded with tall, black shades.  The DO NOT ENTER. NONE SHALL PASS message was received loud and clear.  So, we thought (and remember, I am a bit tipsy from Happy Hour), the entrance must be in the area with the valet.  So back to the valet hut we went.

At first, this appeared to be the only logical move: it was the only open area, and patrons seemed to trickle in and out of the small door at the back of the drive.  So far so good!

As we walked in, the hotel proved to be even more labyrinthine within than it was without.  So, we followed a French family as their young son held a side door open for us.  We followed the quaint path through the courtyard, turned a corner, only to find...


Somehow, some way, we had managed to unwittingly sneak into the elusive pool area of the famed Chateau Marmont completely unchecked.  The feeling was completely surreal.

Now, before I continue with this story, I want to make it very clear that while I am aware that there are tons of tourists or Hollywood wannabes who may attempt to sneak in to a place like the Chateau Marmont to get a chance at a celebrity sighting or even just to see how the other half lives, we are not those people. At all.  We are embarrassed by those people.  We shun those people.  This distinction is very important to have in mind as I tell the rest of this story. We are not tacky; we are not wannabes.  We are just two blondes who had a massive and embarrassing collective brain fart.

Suddenly, we both realize that we are 1000% not where we, random people off the street, are supposed to be.  At all.  In a stupor, we walk over to the cabana, half thinking we should ask the bartender for directions, half wanting to confess our sins and beg forgiveness (as well as assistance exiting the premises).  But before either of us could speak, the chipper bartender speaks:

"Hi ladies! What can I get for you today?"  He smiled broadly.

We stare at each other, dumbfounded.  Doesn't he want to know our room number? Isn't he going to call security?  Instead of protesting, I respond that I am a bit parched and just want a glass of water. He shows me to the complementary water with a smile.  We look at each other, not sure what to do (although in hindsight, getting the EFF out of there would probably have been the smartest decision.  I suppose it is true what they say about shock and its affect on the mind).

Kim suggests we sit in the shade.  I am cringing inwardly, but also craving a less conspicuous place to plan an exit strategy.  So we find a table and begin to plot.  We could not simply turn around and leave.  That would make our mistake obvious, and perhaps create a hubbub in the very zen like pool area.  The exact kind of hubbub that patrons stay at the Chateau Marmont in an attempt to avoid.  So we sip our water.  As I finish, I declare:

"It is so hot out here, but I really don't think I'm up for a swim.  Shall we go in?"

Taking my lead, Kim agrees, and we saunter out of the pool area (even though in our minds, we want to be sprinting as fast as possible). We walk down the well manicured path, through the door shown to us by the French family, and back out again.

And that is the story of how Kim and I accidentally snuck into the pool at the Chateau Marmont.

I do not think I have felt more awkward, stupid, or embarrassed in my entire life. But hey, at least I got a great story out of the experience!

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