Those in the “know” visit ShopIntuition.com to be a trend maker not a fashion faker. The company founder, Jaye Hersh is a talented, giving and lovely woman and was kind enough to provide me my first break as a jewelry designer.

Now, courtesy of Hurricane by Jane L.L.C. you can purchase the identical jewelry featured at  ShopIntuition.com at wholesale prices. Just click through to buy any of the pieces listed below and know that you are getting the same designer wares and quality of a premier Hollywood boutique, frequented by stars such as Katy Perry, Lauren Conrad and Taylor Swift.

The overall best selling piece for the store and myself through private sales is the Golden Triple Strand Necklace ($48). This necklace is also available in Sterling Silver ($42) and is probably the best necklace to get a fashionable friend as a birthday or holiday gift.

The rest of the Shop Intuition collection include the Silver and Gold Multitasker Necklace ($74):

Duotastic Gold and Silver Layering Necklace ($77):

Crystal Ship Earrings in Gold ($42) also available in Sterling Silver ($41)

Floating Leaf Earrings ($42):

The Duotastic Bracelet ($52):

And the Crystal Persuasion Bracelet In Gold ($54) also available in Sterling Silver ($49).

The great thing about these pieces and the entire Hurricane by Jane collection is that they are all designed to work with each other, kind of like a “Garanimal” line for women of sophisticated taste. If you are interested in buying more then one of the pieces from the Shop Intuition collection or from any other work I have, just feel free to contact me directly though my ETSY boutique and I’ll be happy to work out a deal, especially for you!

(GWP got called away on a family emergency, so Fashion Friday was left in my incapable hands.  For this, I apologize…)

Some time last year GWP and I were having a conversation about the fact that my work had recently gone casual Friday all year round (meaning, no need to wear Dockers or dress pants, we could now wear jeans all year round.)  She asked how that was going, and I told her it was really nice, not having to worry so much about matching the Dockers I was wearing with the shirt (I swear, I really need adult Garanimals).

So we had the following text conversation (which I swear is 100% true and factual, no matter how she will try and deny it.)

GWP:  So, what are you wearing today then?
Me:  Let’s see.  A pair of Levi’s 501’s and a black polo shirt.
GWP:  What color shoes are you wearing?
Me:  Um…they’re white.  I’m wearing gym shoes.
GWP:  GYM SHOES!!!  GYM SHOES!!! OMG!  OMG!!!
Me:  What?  What’s wrong with gym shoes?
GWP:  EVERYTHING!!!  EVERYTHING IS WRONG WITH GYM SHOES?  What color socks?
Me:  Um…white.  White short athletic socks

I didn’t get any text messages from her for quite a while after that.  She claims she got busy.  I know it was because she had a fashion conniption and fainted.  When we talked that afternoon, I was told, in NO uncertain terms, that what I was wearing on my feet was a travesty, and that I should never, EVER do that again.  I was also told that I needed to go out and get myself a pair of Gucci loafers (have you priced Gucci loafers?  Holy crap!  I could buy myself that Xbox 360 that I have been denying myself all these years for the price of a pair of shoes!  Insanity!)

This, or an Xbox 360 Elite. And a new DSi. You make the call!

I argued that wearing white socks and gym shoes is perfectly acceptable, and that I really didn’t understand what the big deal was.  There was lots of sputtering and incoherent raging on the phone after that.  It sounded a lot like she gets when someone cuts in front of her when she’s driving.  (Only there was Italian cursing thrown in too.  She curses in Italian when she gets all upset about fashion, did you know that?)

So anyway, we compromised, which means that she got her way, and I have never worn white socks and gym shoes to work again.

That she is aware of. 

Yesterday afternoon, here at The Office, I attended a training session.

THE MOST PAINFUL TRAINING SESSION IN THE HISTORY OF TRAINING.

As luck would have it, my favorite friend, Patpaul, conducted the training session.  The training was to introduce a data and news software service to our group and was held in a cube where the data terminal is located.  So, it definitely was a casual training session with only 5 of us attending and with Patpaul leading. 

First of all, in December we all received an email advising us of our ID and Password.  For what, we didn’t know.  All we knew was that we had an ID and password.  We knew there was a terminal located somewhere, but none of us knew what it was for or where it was located.  This, of course, can all be attributed to Patpaul, the great communicator. 

Last week, we received an invitation to a training session to be held yesterday.  I still didn’t know where the terminal was located and was to afraid to ask Patpaul because of our overly friendly relationship.  I figured I’d just follow the rest of the gang when the time came. 

The 5 of us arrived for the training.  My boss, Really Nice Guy, was there.  Also, Nancy, Bill and their coworker, Sandy attended.  We all gathered around Patpaul and the terminal.  RNG was the unlucky one who got the seat right up next to Patpaul.  Nancy, Bill, and Sandy were in seats close, but just a step back from RNG and Patpaul.  I stood behind them and leaned on the half wall.

Patpaul handed us a HUGE stack of papers bound together and with yellow stickies throughout.  I think he started the training session next, but I’m not sure because I could not hear a word.  I was standing all of 5 feet from the man, but heard nothing.  He spoke ever so softly and only looked at RNG who was sitting to his left.  His eyes never moved further from the terminal than to glance to his left at RNG a few times.

Of course, to look at the rest of us, might mean that he’d have to accidentally make eye contact with me.  And we all know that’s forbidden.

After the first 15 minutes, I started fading.  My lean on the half wall was becoming more apparent.  My eyes were glazed over and I was just praying for the dang thing to be over.  After 15 minutes, I had long given up trying to listen and actually learn anything. 

It was at that point that I knew I had to go into Survival Mode.  You know…where your only mission is to stay awake, not fall over, or do anything that might embarrass yourself. 

Survival Mode kicked in for me at about the time it did for Bill.   Bill and I made eye contact and i knew then that he was also doing whatever he could to survive. 

A few subtle signals later and Bill got me to notice Nancy’s shoes, pants, shirt combo.  Nancy was wearing his usual beige knit top (always beige or a muted color and always knit).  He had on black slacks to complete the Garanimal pant/knit top combo.  And brown shoes.  I swear they looked like Buster Brown shoes.  No one over the age of 3 should own a pair of shoes like these.  Seriously. 

Still in Survival Mode, I now had to also suppress the desire to laugh.  Bill was struggling too.  I couldn’t look at him, for fear that I’d break down. 

Patpaul was still mumbling and speaking only to RNG.  Bill and I were trying not to laugh at Nancy’s Garanimal outfit and Buster Brown shoes.  Nancy and Sandy were trying to stay awake.

The training was supposed to end at 3:00.  But 3:00 came and went.  I was struggling to maintain Survival Mode.  I tried to think of excuses to slink away.  Perhaps fake a coughing attack or something.  But I persevered.  Finally, at 3:15 the dang thing was over.

I have no idea what was said.

Following is the sum total of my takeaways from the training session:

1. Patpaul is weird.
2. Nancy wears Garanimals.
3. Nancy wears Buster Brown shoes.
4. My boss, RNG, is really a nice guy, as he endured the entire session of Patpaul talking only to him and didn’t once complain, roll his eyes, or look bored.
5. Nancy hasn’t figured out the concept of matching your shoes to your outfit.
6. Sandy had on a nice green sweater.  I am familiar with the intricate details of the weave, as I stared at it for much of the 45 minutes.

I survived.  And I’m fairly confident that if RNG told me to hop to it and gather some information based on what was covered at the training session, I could look at the mega stack of papers and figure it out on my own.

Survival Mode does work.  And I highly recommend it.

As Hollywood leaves behind the years of dingy, depressed streets, tourist trap souvenir shops and head shops, it ushers in a shiny, plasticine veneer covering everything from revolving nightclubs which go out within a year, late night eateries and ‘museums’ tributing anything from show biz to lingerie…but something is missing.

Where can a hipster go to do some pre clubbing shopping? Where can they congregate to gossip about the ‘Cahuenga Boulevard boogie’?

The answer is Space 15 Twenty.

Nestled at the edge of Cahuenga between Sunset and Hollywood Boulevard, 15 Twenty is a hipster heaven. Currently the open air mall boasts an Urban Outfitters for the retro, ironic kids…

Urban Outfitters

…an A Life for the ballers, complete with a giant urinal…

piss off!

…What Comes Around Vintage for the posh spice kids who can spend a couple k on vintage couture…

What Comes Around Costs More The 2nd Time Around

…an art gallery for the erudite wine drinkers…

…an architect bookstore for the brainiac scenesters and a snack bar serving up ironic junk food one could find at any music festival, like pop corn, Izze and beer.

At the opening part last week, the Space had i Tunes darlings Chairlift play their warbling indie rock for a jaded crowd. Although a good smattering of people watched excitedly, for many it was more of an obstacle to their air kissing, gossiping and hair flipping.

NY indie rockers Chairlift play at 15 Twenty

While I must admit I did drool over some of the choice finds at What Comes Around, a vintage gaultier coat, several Alaia dresses and a slew of YSL and DVF…

absolutely fabulous

And I did quite like the high tech goth of Urban Outfitter’s annex store for Samantha Pleet…

Samantha Who?

I must admit that 15 Twenty did underwhelm.

gangsta garanimal

Perhaps it’s because the place is designed to capture the attention of kids who scoff at the faux punk of the commercial mall rat swathed in Hot Topic, but think nothing of conforming to the electro-nerd costume of American Apparel. Perhaps it was the jaded “been there, done that, bought the $500 dollar t shirt’ crowd. Or perhaps it’s just stores that cater to disaffected youth in a time when everyone SHOULD be affected by the monumentus current events, but something about this space left me cold…perhaps it was the crisp night air on a cold, LA, 65 degree night.

Hopefully things will warm up soon.

When we were kids there really weren’t any designer labels for anyone under the age of twenty. The big thing was Garanimals, but I don’t know if my brothers had any – I didn’t. Mom made a lot of my dresses and we shopped at K-Mart and local department stores. As long as our clothes were clean, we were all happy.

Having a son brings back a lot of memories that center around clothing, most specifically the cleanliness of them. I remember being surprised at the scolding my brother received one day. He had taken a few trips down a grassy hill behind our elementary school while we waited for our mother to pick us up. The problem was the method of locomotion he used – he slid down the hill on his knees. Needless to say, those stains probably didn’t come out. And since we only got a couple of new pairs of jeans per school-year, it was a serious situation to have one pair ruined.

Now that I am raising a son I am more acutely aware of the cost and labor that goes into keeping play clothes clean. My solution: don’t spend more than $5.00 on any one piece of clothing. I primarily shop for him at a local second-hand kids clothing store. They are fairly choosy about what they will take in, so I don’t have to go over the tee shirts and jeans with a keen eye like I do if I’m shopping at yard sales. I don’t mind my son staining his clothes – I mean, he’s three – but I will try to give him at least a week of spot-free life before he comes home wearing something that won’t come out.

Mom was a believer in the iron-on patches of denim – remember those? Lucky for us, the patchwork look was in when we were kids in the 1970’s. My solution for grass stains on the knees – make shorts. Lucky for me, my three-year-old doesn’t care. Yet.

Much like a dangerous foreign military excursion, shopping with my mother as an adolescent was a very tricky task.

Since there weren’t many employers who were willing to hire a ten-year-old child (Go figure) in my town or provide transportation to said job, if my mom didn’t like the glittery tops and printed capris I longed to wear everyday in grade school, then the items probably wouldn’t see the light of day inside of my closet.

But, as with any healthy mother/daughter relationship, we always had our battles about fashion — especially when debating the merits of wearing Khaki pants with blouses. And every time my lovely mother would give in, she would remind me of the days when she went shopping with my grandmother and had no other option than Garanimals. So, I just should just be lucky, blah, blah, blah. You know, the usual parent talk.

I never bothered to actually look up what exactly Garanimals were, but I always assumed they were pretty bad. So imagine my surprise when I saw a commercial advertising the kids wear a couple of weeks ago.

Basically, each animal represents a line within the collection. Each of the distinct animal lines consists of mix and match separates, whose color and style coordinate with any piece within that same animal line.

If the brand was made for adults and the pieces were actually cool aka decent, I would be all for it. It would make last minute dressing a breeze. But then what would be the fun in that?