ICONIC FABULOUS WOMEN THAT I ADORE

Zooey Deschanel, Maja Ivarsson, Peaches

The "Eyes" Have It

Art from MOMA

JOY

To our first wonderful year of marriage, and the many great years before and to come.

YOU CALL THAT A MARGARITA GLASS?...NOW THIS IS A MARGARITA GLASS

LOVE AND MARRIAGE

These are the most beautiful "Trash the Dress" photos I've seen.

STILL LIFE WITH INDIA

PARIS EN COULEUR

PARIS EN NOIR ET BLANC

Scream of the Bikini - The Movie to See

Not only does Mike have an amazing(ly brief) part as a gay fashion designer, this movie looks awesome! Can't wait to see it. Check out scenes, cast info, reviews and other fun stuff at the website:

http://www.screamofthebikini.com/Scream/Bikini.html

D-Squared Pairs Up with MAC Makeup!!

http://www.maccosmetics.com/whats_new/collection.tmpl?CATEGORY_ID=CAT1768&AD_ID=100906&cm_mmc=email-_-September-_-09_30Dsquared_Email_US_Other-_-main3

Tokyo Ho

Tokyo was a crazy experience. I only got to stay in a small area called Shabuya-Ku. You may be familiar with Shabuya because this is where you can find the Harajuku Girls - those lovely, doll-like creatures with fake eyelashes, curled hair, pink blush and who are styled from head-to-tail. Shabuya has a times square appeal, but is 10x more busy. Shabuya is a wonderland of organized chaos, where everything seems to be sugar coated or bedazzled somehow.

Everyone in Tokyo was lovely. So lovely that Stephanie, my travel mate, and I made a promise to go above and beyond when helping tourists in our country. Nothing in Tokyo is in English and the areas are broken down into numbered districts. You may be looking for City: Tokyo, Area: Shabuya - Shabuya-Ku, District: 23, Area: 4, Building: 18. The addresses aren't in order, like in the US and when looking at a map of Shabuya-Ku you will see multiple area's labeled as "23". Basically, without the kindness of strangers, or an understanding of the language...you are screwed.


DOWNTOWN SHIBUYA AT NIGHT, RIGHT AFTER EXITING THE SUBWAY


DOWNTOWN SHIBUYA - DAYTIME


HARAJUKU NAILS


CONDOMANIA


COSPLAY GIRL ON CAT STREET

Mike and I Have A New Nephew!!

Mike and I are full of love and excitement as we welcome the newest member of our family. Monday morning, Mike's Brother and Sister-in-Law welcomed their second child into the world: Aiden Moran!! Isn't he a nugget? Here are pics of him at the hospital with his new grandma and grandpa (Mike's parents: Mike and Bunny). I can't wait to visit and see him in person!

Angela's Favorites - Best Breakfast Joints in Los Angeles

This past Saturday, my friend Amanda D'Angelo took me to to the best pancake joint I've ever eaten at. It's called "The Griddle" on Sunset, just West of Fairfax. We each had a decaf, vanilla latte (divine), a side of egg-whites and we split the "Black Magic".

(Description taken from the menu:)
Disbelief will possess you as you're pulled under the spell of our crushed Oreo-filled flap-jacks! Topped with hwipped cream and Oreo cookie pieces (Reality or illusion?!)

I had such a delicious nosh-experience this led me to reminisce about other amazing breakfast/brunch places. Nothing is better than a leisurely Saturday afternoon with coffee or mimosa and some delish breakfast food. Below is a list of my favorite spots:



HOLLYWOOD














The Griddle
7916 Sunset Blvd., Hollywood, CA 90046 (On the corner of Sunset and Fairfax)
http://www.thegriddlecafe.com/

Description: Loud and Crowded. Bored, attractive waiters squeeze through the small cafe packed with tables as they dish out gigantic portions of the most decadent home cooking you've seen. Be prepared to stand on Sunset Blvd for a minimum of 20 minutes while you wait for a table. Locals and tourists alike enjoy this delish spot.

Angela's Recommends You Order: Vanilla Latte and Black Magic Flapjacks


SILVERLAKE



















The Cliff's Edge
3626 Sunset Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90026
http://www.cliffsedgecafe.com/

Description: Charming, and hard-to-find. I recommend you sit outside, on the Cliff's Edge (where the restaurant gets it's name). This spot is completely un-marke (situated just set off Sunset Blvd, behind a local Taco stand. Wear big sunglasses and look tragic. The brunch crowd is mostly hung-over Silverlake hipsters. Great service, friendly staff, pricey menu; but well worth it!

Angela's Recommends You Order: Mimosa and Poached Eggs on Sour Dough Toast w/ Prosciutto & Arugula




SANTA MONICA




















The Omelette Parlor
2732 Main St.
Santa Monica, CA 9040

Description: A family-oriented locals place, located on Main Street (right in the midst of several hot boutiques and inexpensive nail salons) where you can build the omelette of your dreams....or pick among the many delicious options on the menu. They serve regular and decaf coffee in great amounts (every time you blink, your mug is being refilled).

Angela's Recommends You Order: Coffee (I take mine decaf with cream and sugar), OJ and the Lox Scramble with Egg whites. If you are more of a sweet breakfast person, my pilates teacher swears by their Chuck and Lee Love Our Waffles (with hot banana-walnut topping)!






















Urth Caffe - Santa Monica
2327 Main Street
Santa Monica, CA
http://www.urthcaffe.com/

Description: Beautiful, indoor/outdoor location full of too-cool Westsiders. You'll see a range of Yogaworks yogis, post-class, mixed with young, 20-somethings sporting Ella Moss Dresses and L.A.M.B. bags. You order at the bar and then scout madly to find a seat (they are almost always packed). I recommend the front patio. Great people watching, if you can get a table. All the food, coffee and tea are organic and super fresh.

Angela's Recommends You Order: Japanese White Pearl Tea and an Urth Organic Granola Bowl (with fresh fruit). The egg sandwich is also excellent (I usually order one of their giant chocolate chip cookies to nibble on while I wait for my order).


MANHATTAN BEACH














The Koffee Kart
1104 Highland Ave.
Manhattan Beach, CA 90266

Description: This tiny hole-in-the-wall always sports a small crowd of families and dogs clambering outside to get one of the few tables or booths inside (the whole restaurant seats approx 40 people.) Menu is simple, but always good. Friendly staff. Walking distance from the stunning Manhattan Beach Pier.

Angela's Recommends You Order: Coffee & the Demolition Omelette (sausage, bacon, cheese, mushrooms, onions, tomato, sour cream and guacamole). If you are feeling a bit healthy I'd recommend the Guacamole Omelette, substitute eggwhites and select fruit and wheat toast as your sides.


















Uncle Bill's Pancake House
1305 Highland Ave.
Manhattan Beach, CA 90266

Description: Another Manhattan Beach Local's favorite. The line outside starts as early as 9am. Like many places in M Beach, Uncle Bill's has been around a long-time. Friendly, beach-diner local with friendly waitresses who know their regulars by name. Hint: Put your name in, then walk down the street and grab some Starbucks while you wait. If you want to skip the line altogether, ask to sit at the counter.

Angela's Recommends You Order: Hot Chocolate and the Body Builders Power Breakfast (three banana nut buckwheat pancakes and five eggwhites). Bring a friend and share a side of the Potatoes Stronganoff (hash browns sauteed with crumbled bacon and melted cheese, topped with sour cream).

My Outerwear Designs Were Covered on WGSN

For those of you who aren't in the action sports industry, twice a year there is a show in San Diego called Action Sports Retailer (ASR). I was SO excited to see that a few of my Outerwear Designs for Fox were covered on WGSN (Worth Global Style Network, for you non-fashionistas). Check out the review below:

Coping With Loss - How We Deal with Death

Should I have a slice of chocolate mousse pie?

My stomach is in knots. I’ve had “the stomach flu” for three days now. It started Sunday night, after an all day stint of therapeutic baking. First I had a loss of appetite and then I woke at 1am with nausea and stomach cramps.

Yes, I’ve gone to the Dr. No, I’m not pregnant. Apparently, I have a little stomach flu. How did I get this?

Last week, on Friday 1/23, I went to a trade show in San Diego, on behalf of Fox. Mike was very sick and had been all week. I felt guilty for leaving him, but he assured me it was better that I was out-of-the house as he may still be contagious.

These shows are usually pretty wild. The kegs come out at 4pm. I was feeling the effects of alcohol by 7pm, when at dinner with twelve other co-workers. It was at this time Mike calls with the news:

"Philip Newby is dead. I don't have all the details but it appears that he killed himself."

My first reaction was shock, and then concern for Mike (who seemed to be taking this all-in-stride, which made me think it hadn't hit him yet, either.) Eventually the news that our friend killed himself sank in. Mike was alone to grieve his friend. I was stuck here for the night (I had carpooled here, and no one was equipped to drive). And I felt like a bad wife and a non-partner. I have co-workers who are “friends”, but none that are Friends. I told one girl - whom I carpool with - about the suicide, just because I didn’t feel like I could go back to the room alone and I needed to confide my shock to someone.

She did her best:
“He’s in a better place. If he was that sad, his pain is gone now.”

I stayed out and “kept a brave face”. Or so I thought. If I was stuck there, no reason to bring everyone else down and make them feel awkward. Plus, this news was private.

I spent the night dancing and smiling, as much as I could. Every time I felt tears begin to push against the back of my eyelids, I went to the bar and stoically ordered a shot of Vodka. I did this several times. I will advise my readers that this is NOT the way to deal with grief. Especially when you are alone. I was in a group, but essentially, in this situation, I was alone.

Two hours later, wasted, I drunk dialed my husband and next our friend, Fleur. I was a weeping, hysterical, blubbering, apologetic mess. These themes running through my head: My grief for Phil…. how lonely he must have been…how did none of us see this coming? My guilt for leaving Mike when he was sick…. I knew I shouldn’t have gone…had I somehow sensed greater powers at work?

Me, me, me. My grief. My guilt. Poor me.

My assistant ended up walking me back to the hotel and confiding in me about suicide stories she had endured. I felt exhausted, guilty, resentful, drunk. In short, I was a mess.

The next day I made it home. Barely. Mike seemed to be okay. We spent the day listlessly catching up on Tivo. I baked cookies.

That evening, Saturday, Sacred Fools Theater did a memorial event for Phil. There was a huge outpouring of people both from Sacred Fools and Theater of Note. Everyone was crying, hugging, consoling. I felt awkward. I don’t know how to deal with grief. When it’s my own, I feel weak. When it’s others, I feel unbearably awkward. When I see people my natural reaction is to smile. Smiling isn’t really the right behavior at these things. So I look at my feet and usually say something stupid, typically about myself.

I muddled through the group, doing my best to comfort people who were hurting deeply. I hugged..and hugged…..and hugged. I brought the cookies I had baked.

These situations are never easy. People say to one another "he's in a better place..." and "if he was that unhappy, now he's found peace." I apologize to anyone I hurt with these words, but I can't help but feel this perspective is bullshit.

When my grandfather passed away there was no consoling me, and he was an old man who had been sick for months. I didn't picture him in Heaven, golfing...or amid the trees and leaves. I felt him burning in my memories and buried deeply in my heart – a small cut that will never quite heal properly no matter how old I am. He was alive in me. He didn't need to be anywhere else.

When you lose someone you love, his or her absence becomes blindingly real. I don't think it matters "where they go"...at least not for the person who died. What matters are the people who are left behind. How they feel. How they cope. How they mourn.

Our friend, Jenelle, wrote a beautiful piece describing Phil, his talent and what we all liked about the guy. He really, truly was a lovely, kind-hearted person. And ridiculously funny both on and off stage. She put her grief into a perfectly sincere description of Phil that people can USE. They can apply these positive memories to the raw part of their heart as a kind of salve. Loving him and remembering him is so much better than wallowing in grief and thinking “what could I have done?”

I’d say, “Phil would have wanted that.” But I can’t tell you what he would have wanted. I can only tell you how great a guy I thought he was.

So this brings me to Sunday, and the stomach flu…and why I am asking you if I should eat Chocolate Mousse Pie:
Mike had rehearsal. I went on a somewhat obsessive baking binge. First, Whole Grain Muffins with Apple and Honey; then, double chocolate-chip cookies with walnuts and almonds. I skipped yoga. I didn’t go running. I spent the day baking my heart out. I didn’t feel like I could stop. I would have moved onto a chocolate cake, had Mike not come home.

Sunday afternoon is when my stomachache began. That evening we ate dinner in silence. Neither Mike, nor I, had an appetite. Mike blamed his lack-of-hunger on being sick and feeling “out of it”. I blamed mine on the fact that I had slept too long and had a headache (note to readers: it takes an act of god for me to lose my appetite…)

After dinner, Mike read Jenelle’s piece on Phil, that she had posted on Facebook: http://backstage.blogs.com/blogstage/2009/01/a-great-artist-gone-too-soon.html
Within minutes, it sank in for him. It’s never easy to see the person you love most in pain. It’s horrible. Not long after, we went to bed.

At 1am, I woke from nightmares of nausea to realize that I was sweating and actually on the verge of throwing up. I’ll leave the details out, but I ended up asleep on the bathroom floor for another hour and felt completely yuck.

The next 3 days, I’ve barely been able to eat solid foods. Each day I get a little better, and then a little worse. I got a deep tissue massage yesterday, for my achey joints, and was told my massage therapist could “feel” the stress coming off of my muscles.

The last time I had stomach problems like this was over six years ago. Mike and I had a bad fight. I asked for a “week off” to think about whether I wanted to continue our relationship. I got, what I thought was, the stomach flu during our week apart. At the end of the week, we worked things out, and suddenly I could eat normally. The first thing I did was to go to House of Pies on Vermont and order a big, celebratory slice of Chocolate Mousse Pie – WITH whip cream!

Taking stock of my emotions this week, I don’t feel like I have the right to hurt over Philip Newby. We weren’t that close. But maybe, just maybe, somewhere deep down I feel sad. Deeply sad. Sad that I didn’t see something no one else did. Sad, that my husband MUST be hurting more than he lets on. Sad, that someone I knew, no longer exists in the present sense.

Today would have been Philip’s birthday. Maybe, just maybe, I will go out and buy a big Chocolate Mousse pie and have a slice in his honor. If it comes back up, the Dr was right and I have the stomach flu….but I think the Dr. was wrong. I think the nausea and the stomach problems (and the baking) were all my way of mourning the loss of a kind-hearted soul. What this means for you, I don't know. But I feel some relief in my belly, just in completing this sentence.

Happy Birthday, Phil.

A Correction

I need to publish a formal correction. In my previous blog, I site that my assistant, Katy, is from Monroeville, PA. This is incorrect. Katy is from a small town called, Blairsville, PA which is near Monroeville. For more info on Blairsville go here: http://www.blairsvillepa.com/

Why I Am Rooting for the Pittsburgh Steelers

Mike, Me and Mark Wilson at the Hollywood & Highland Hooters

I've never really been interested in football.

-SCRATCH THAT-

Not until recently have I cared about football. Not until Sunday, January 18th 2009 - when we met Mark Wilson at the Hooters on Hollywood and Highland (to call this a Steeler's Bar is a gross understatement). Call me a follower. Call me a poser. Call me whatever you want for having this last-minute surge of enthusiasm for a sport that I could have cared of less about 3 years ago.

My love of football and for the Steelers in particular was a matter of circumstance and timing - as all great love affairs truly are.

My family is from Pittsburgh, PA and my mom went to Pitt. I was therefore raised with the Steelers and the Panthers as a constant, but quiet background to my childhood. Neither of my parents were big sports fans, but as was summed up by my assistant Katy (a product of Monroville, PA) - loving the Steelers has nothing to do with football. It's part of a cultural identity.

When I started dating Mike, I began going to Hollywood Billiards with him every Sunday during football season. We'd meet up with Mark Wilson and Dave Wilcox. Usually, Mark would be in a Steelers jersey, Wilcox in a Lions jersey and Mike in his Redskins jersey. I'd order a breakfast burrito and Bloody Mary and flit between games asking questions about why certain calls were being made or what was happening.

Hollywood Billiards in the "Early Days"

A few years later, I moved to Columbus, OH. If you aren't a Buckeye fan in Columbus, "you ain't shit". Columbus natives claim to "bleed Scarlet and Grey". Although this idea repulses me, I was out of tranny bars and French Cafes to frequent so I tried HARD to embrace this new culture. Football culture. I realized, working with a lot of people from the UK, that I actually knew a lot more about the game than I had every realized. Those days at Hollywood Billiards had been lessons I'd never realized were being taught. I even attended the first Buckeye's game of the season with a few enthusiastic alumni on the beautiful OSU campus.

OSU Buckeye Stadium on Game Day

So, we come to the question, "Why the Steelers?"

On a business trip for Abercrombie and Fitch, one of my coworkers loaned me his GQ to read. There was a fascinating article on Troy Polamalu. (I should note, I had heard of Troy before this in name only - my grandmother's nursing home was in Cannonsburg, PA, where I would visit here several times a month. Whenever there was a Steelers game, all of the nurses would wear jerseys. I had seen the name Polamalu and the number 43, but had no other knowledge about the man, until this article). If one article can make a person a fan, then this was it. The writer talked about Troy's humble roots, his strong relationship with his wife and most importantly, his training technique. Polamalu uses what was referred to as "Spiritual Training" where we would run on a treadmill until he felt that he would faint or throw-up, and then he would try to push himself into and advanced mental/spiritual state where he was able to push through his physical walls. A spiritual, Christian football player that was talking about Tantric training techniques?? He was such a contradiction. I felt enthusiasm.

Troy Polamalu Photo from GQ Article

When returning to LA, I had adopted the Steelers as my team of choice.

There is something about Pittsburgh, PA. The people are not "East Coast", but not quite midwest. The closest parallels I can make would be to a Detroit or Chicago....but Pittsburgh is not like these cities at all. There are strong blue collar roots, stemming from the gigantic steel industry, infused with a youth culture of art and science brought by schools such as Carnegie Mellon and Pittsburgh University. I've heard Pittsburgh physically compared Gotham City. After years of 24-hour drilling for Steel, there is a dark coating to all of the old buildings...and yet it thrives with the beauty of the Monongahela River. I liked being from Pittsburgh.

Arial View of the Three Rivers Stadium

A View of Forbes Avenue, facing towards University of Pittsburgh

Not until Mike and I started hanging out with Mark Wilson regularly did I see parallels of my own personality as traits being "so 'burgh". Food that my family made, terms they used, even the basic pragmatism that comes from humble roots I had developed through some sort of 'burgh osmosis.

So now, with the Superbowl pending, I am rooting for the Steelers with my full heart. I CARE about football. I CARE who wins. I WANT the Steelers to be the victors.

Why should the Pittsburgh Steelers win the Super Bowl? Because I want them to. That's why.