I went to visit one of my closest friends, Lauren Oxenberg, in South Beach. I just needed a change of scenery – oceans and palm trees opposed to concrete and traffic signs. We went out for dinner at Wish, with our good friend, the luscious Brazilian Reynaldo Gianecchini. We had the best mojitos that I have ever had in my life.
The conversation meandered from politics (how hot Howard Dean was when he was younger) to publishing (Tina Brown’s interview with Harvey Weinstien) to investing (the Martha Stewart trial) to fashion (Janet Jackson’s wardrobe malfunction) to New York City (Deputy Mayor Carol Robles-Roman losing her lights and sirens – what does a Deputy Mayor do anyway).
Just as we were about to have dessert, Jennifer Lopez, her sister, Andre Balazs (Uma’s new squeeze), and an unidentified delicious male. J Lo seemed as if she is in great spirits; laughing constantly as she’s kicking back the Veuve (I thought she’d be more of a Cristal girl). All eyes in the restaurant were on Jen’s table as soon as they sat down.
While South Beach isn’t nearly as plastic as Los Angeles, the people are almost more superficial. The worst are the retail whores. The attitude that they give off is plain scary. I just don’t understand it. They work retail – I couldn’t care less if they work for Gucci or Marc Jacobs or Banana Republic. When a Banana Republic sales girl gives you attitude, you know something is wrong with the universe. Yes, Miu shops at Banana Republic – I love their T-shirts.
Despite the retail attitude, I had a great couple of days in South Beach. If you go there, you must stay at the Raleigh Hotel. It’s to die for.