Me and my rockstar purse at the Ghostbar in Vegas...not related to this story at all
I’ve been told that being a rockstar is 50% talent and 50%
hair. So, I would say there were times I was 75% there...I had the hair, and I have been known to do a mean karaoke
(typical Filipino skill). But one of the
times I really felt like a total rockstar was in Beverly Hills, and it had nothing to
do with talent, and everything to do with my hair.
About 18 years ago, I was in Beverly Hills because I had bought a $20 coupon for an up-and-coming spa that just opened.
For my appointment, I was feeling a bit hippy-ish
and decided to wear my tie-dye top, bell-bottomed jeans, platform shoes, and
John Lennon blue-round-lens sunglasses.
As I stood on the corner near Rodeo and Wilshire, I noticed expensive
cars slowing down to look at me. They were
looking at me as if they were trying to recognize me. The platform shoes must have made me look
super tall. And I was in jeans in a
place where women normally were in top name brands,
make-up, hair-did, jewelry, etc. And there I was, walking around as if Saks Fifth Avenue prices didn’t make me laugh. In the middle of a weekday morning, I was just like the people who lived, worked, or
shopped there. I didn’t pull down my
sunglasses for a second. I held my head
up, swung my long hair as I sauntered quite effortlessly in my platform stilts until I decided to walk to my little, tinted Mercury Tracer hatchback for my secret getaway.
So, what's your rockstar story? I wanna know!