Blogs and Stories
The West Coast Gossip Girl
It was because of these outrageous experiences that I decided to base my first novel in the private-school world of Los Angeles. The protagonist of Hancock Park, Becky Miller, struggles to find her place in the City of Angels. I wanted to write a book that would explore adolescence through the lens of a girl in the Hollywood bubble. Becky deals with teenage angst that most teens can relate to—sparring parents, mean girls, alcohol, boys, and photos that should never have ended up on Facebook—as well as the perils of overprescribing psychiatrists, over-the-top underage parties, and what might happen if your mother’s West Hollywood apartment gets flooded (answer: a fight with the insurance company and a move into the Beverly Hills Four Seasons).
When I wrote Hancock Park, Los Angeles was the only city I had ever lived in. Now, a year into college, I believe I’ve gained a little bit of perspective—although, I will be the first to admit, not that much perspective. The story I would write about Los Angeles now would be different from the story I wrote when I was 17, and that’s the beauty of the passage of time and an increasingly broadened lens.
Still, there are instances in my life that make me think I may never know what a “regular” American childhood feels like.
One weekday afternoon last month in Los Angeles (75 degrees and sunny, of course), I reunited with two of my close friends from high school at the Grove, an outdoor mall just outside Hancock Park. We had successfully completed our first year at college and our first year away from home, and with the comfortable familiarity of girls with years of friendship and history behind them, we began to compare weird, crazy, and out of this world (or, um, out of L.A.) stories from college.
“And did you have any idea that North Face was such a thing?” I asked of the East Coast uniform.
“I know, right? It’s crazy!” Grace, who goes to school at Grinnell, in Iowa, said.
“North Face? What?” Jen asked. Jen goes to Claremont McKenna, which, though not quite in Los Angeles, is still California.
“I think there’s a North Face store here,” I offered, probably unhelpfully. “I’ve driven by, on Beverly, in Beverly Hills. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone go inside, though.”
“There’s this jacket, black fleece zip-up, and everyone has it,” Grace said, and I nodded in agreement.
The Los Angeles version of North Face would probably be the Ron Herman Free City sweatshirt. I’ve tried explaining Free City to my friends at Harvard. They can’t understand the phenomenon. I don’t understand it, even.
“So, basically, they’re sweatshirts that cost about $150, and the idea is that they look really worn-in when you buy them—some of them have holes, even,” I explained, realizing that the more I say about the matter, the crazier my college friends find my version of Los Angeles culture.
John Talks Joe
Lloyd Grove is editor at large for The Daily Beast. He is also a frequent contributor to New York magazine and was a contributing editor for Condé Nast Portfolio. He wrote a gossip column for the New York Daily News from 2003 to 2006. Prior to that, he wrote the Reliable Source column for the Washington Post, where he spent 23 years covering politics, the media, and other subjects.
Why America Must Learn to Bow
Martin Jacques is the cofounder of the UK think tank Demos, writes a regular column for The Guardian, and is a visiting research fellow at the London School of Economics Asia Research Centre. His new book, When China Rules the World, is available now.
Going Rogue: The Index
Christopher Buckley's books include Supreme Courtship, The White House Mess, Thank You for Smoking, Little Green Men, and Florence of Arabia. He was chief speechwriter for Vice President George H.W. Bush, and is editor-at-large of ForbesLife magazine. His new book is Losing Mum and Pup, a memoir. Buckley's Daily Beast column is the winner of an Online Journalism Award in the category of Online Commentary.
At least she can prove, as a Harvard student that, she does attend Harvard in an age where harvardophiles rage in eastern cities to the point where one whispers Harvard and women drop their panties and men drop to their knees and employment is offered to any person who whispers Harvard whether they can prove attendance or not.
The Ivy curse for the rest of us: we have to prove our credentials every time, outperform our Harvard friends and get past the harvardophiles and the imposters every time.
Harvard has history, which people value. An Ivy league education is quickly sinking into doldrums though. There, an education is not had, but rather a way of thinking is created.
Besides, a student will take what they want from whatever it is they choose to; a book, a professor, an experience.
Isabel wrote an interesting article that kept my attention, something most bloggers can't do.
"An Ivy league education is quickly sinking into doldrums though."
Really?? Did I miss something? (please don't say "the recession")
A novel about an LA kid who goes to college on the East Coast and then writes abouth the excesses of LA teenagers, sounds like "Less Than Zero" by Bret Ellis. I highly recommend "Less than Zero".
Glad to hear the publishing industry is recycling more old themes.
Yawn
great. another a privileged kid with too much time on her hands and a laptop creating puerile pablum for the illiterate elite.
Harvard is bankrupt. What a perfect place for little Miss LA, who is the same, all the way around.
My husband graduated from Harvard (back when he got in despite his heritage, not BECAUSE of it). My daughter (who refused to attend Harvard because it wasn't a toll call away from home) now lives in L.A. and wants to be an entertainment lawyer. They both tell me that the only difference between the two is the weather!
Thank you.
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