Shopaholic to the Stars
Page 46
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“Definitely! So how long are you coming for?”
“I don’t know,” says Suze. “At least a month, maybe more. Tarkie needs some serious time off. A week won’t do it. Oh, what was your news?” she adds as an afterthought.
“Nothing much,” I say casually. “Just that I met Sage Seymour and we really got on and we’re going to have coffee at Golden Peace.”
Ha!
“Oh my God!” Suze’s voice blasts me away. “Come on, spill! What was she like? What was she wearing? What did—hang on,” she interrupts herself. “Did you say Golden Peace?”
“Yes.” I try to sound nonchalant.
“The rehab place?”
“Yes.”
“Started by Alicia Bitch Long-legs’s husband?”
“Yes.”
“Bex, are you insane? Why are you going there?”
“To … um … to go on the spending-addiction program.”
“What?” She actually splutters down the phone.
“I want to work on my issues.” I clear my throat. “I have some big stuff to sort out.”
Somehow when I say it to Suze it doesn’t sound as convincing as it did before.
“No, you don’t!” she says in derision. “You just want to hang out with Sage Seymour and all the celebrities!”
“Well, so what if I do?” I say defensively.
“But they’re all weird,” she says, sounding unhappy. “Bex, don’t get weird on me, please.”
I’m momentarily silenced. She’s right. They are a bit weird. Alicia’s totally weird. But, then, if I don’t go to Golden Peace, how will I get to have coffee with Sage?
“I’ll be fine. I’ll only listen with one ear.”
“Well … all right.” Suze sighs. “But don’t get sucked in. Please.”
“I promise.” I cross my fingers.
I’m not going to admit the truth: I quite want to get sucked in. Because it’s occurred to me that if Sage goes to Golden Peace, who else might go? What career opportunities might there be? What if I meet some famous director and we get talking about the costumes for his next film over herbal tea, or whatever they drink. (Probably coconut water or yam water. Or banana water. Something gross like that.)
“Bex?”
“Oh.” I come to. “Sorry, Suze.”
“So, come on,” she demands. “What was Sage wearing? And don’t leave anything out.”
“Well …” I sit back happily, settling in for a proper long chat. L.A. is fab and exciting and everything—but I do miss my best friend.
From: Kovitz, Danny
To: Kovitz, Danny
Subject: I’m alive!!!!!!
dearest friends
i write this from training camp on the island of kulusuk. i have been here one day and already i know this will be a transformating experience for me. i’ve never felt so alive. i have taken shots of the snow ice and the cute inuit people with their darling clothes. i am ready for the challenge. i am ready to push myself. i am ready to be at one with the soaring powerful nature that is around me. it is a mystical experience. i feel proud and humbled and enlivened and excited. i will see landscapes few people have ever seen. i will push myself to the brink. my new collection will be based on the experience.
all my love and wish me luck. i will email again from the next camp.
danny xxxxx
All I can say is … wow. I mean, namaste. Or maybe satnam? (I’ve been learning lots of spiritual, yoga-ish words and trying to use them in conversation. Except that “satnam” always makes me think of “satnav.”)
Why have I never got into mind-body-spirit before? Why did I never do well-being classes in England? Or Navigate Your Inner Terrain? Or Sound Healing for Childhood Damage? I’ve been attending Golden Peace for two weeks now, and it’s transformed my life. It’s just amazing!
For a start, the place is fantastic. It’s a huge site on the coast, just south of L.A. It used to be a golf club, but now it’s all low sandy-colored buildings and koi lakes and a running track, which I’m totally intending to use sometime. Plus they sell fresh juices, and healthy meals, and there’s free yoga at lunchtime on the beach, and in the evenings they show inspirational movies outside while everyone lolls on beanbags. Basically, you don’t ever want to leave.
I’m sitting in a room with a dark-wood floor and billowing white curtains at the windows and softly fragranced air. All the rooms at Golden Peace smell the same—it’s their signature scent of ylang-ylang and cedar and … some other healthy thing. You can buy the scented candles at the gift shop. I’ve already bought eight, because they’ll make perfect Christmas presents.
“I don’t know,” says Suze. “At least a month, maybe more. Tarkie needs some serious time off. A week won’t do it. Oh, what was your news?” she adds as an afterthought.
“Nothing much,” I say casually. “Just that I met Sage Seymour and we really got on and we’re going to have coffee at Golden Peace.”
Ha!
“Oh my God!” Suze’s voice blasts me away. “Come on, spill! What was she like? What was she wearing? What did—hang on,” she interrupts herself. “Did you say Golden Peace?”
“Yes.” I try to sound nonchalant.
“The rehab place?”
“Yes.”
“Started by Alicia Bitch Long-legs’s husband?”
“Yes.”
“Bex, are you insane? Why are you going there?”
“To … um … to go on the spending-addiction program.”
“What?” She actually splutters down the phone.
“I want to work on my issues.” I clear my throat. “I have some big stuff to sort out.”
Somehow when I say it to Suze it doesn’t sound as convincing as it did before.
“No, you don’t!” she says in derision. “You just want to hang out with Sage Seymour and all the celebrities!”
“Well, so what if I do?” I say defensively.
“But they’re all weird,” she says, sounding unhappy. “Bex, don’t get weird on me, please.”
I’m momentarily silenced. She’s right. They are a bit weird. Alicia’s totally weird. But, then, if I don’t go to Golden Peace, how will I get to have coffee with Sage?
“I’ll be fine. I’ll only listen with one ear.”
“Well … all right.” Suze sighs. “But don’t get sucked in. Please.”
“I promise.” I cross my fingers.
I’m not going to admit the truth: I quite want to get sucked in. Because it’s occurred to me that if Sage goes to Golden Peace, who else might go? What career opportunities might there be? What if I meet some famous director and we get talking about the costumes for his next film over herbal tea, or whatever they drink. (Probably coconut water or yam water. Or banana water. Something gross like that.)
“Bex?”
“Oh.” I come to. “Sorry, Suze.”
“So, come on,” she demands. “What was Sage wearing? And don’t leave anything out.”
“Well …” I sit back happily, settling in for a proper long chat. L.A. is fab and exciting and everything—but I do miss my best friend.
From: Kovitz, Danny
To: Kovitz, Danny
Subject: I’m alive!!!!!!
dearest friends
i write this from training camp on the island of kulusuk. i have been here one day and already i know this will be a transformating experience for me. i’ve never felt so alive. i have taken shots of the snow ice and the cute inuit people with their darling clothes. i am ready for the challenge. i am ready to push myself. i am ready to be at one with the soaring powerful nature that is around me. it is a mystical experience. i feel proud and humbled and enlivened and excited. i will see landscapes few people have ever seen. i will push myself to the brink. my new collection will be based on the experience.
all my love and wish me luck. i will email again from the next camp.
danny xxxxx
All I can say is … wow. I mean, namaste. Or maybe satnam? (I’ve been learning lots of spiritual, yoga-ish words and trying to use them in conversation. Except that “satnam” always makes me think of “satnav.”)
Why have I never got into mind-body-spirit before? Why did I never do well-being classes in England? Or Navigate Your Inner Terrain? Or Sound Healing for Childhood Damage? I’ve been attending Golden Peace for two weeks now, and it’s transformed my life. It’s just amazing!
For a start, the place is fantastic. It’s a huge site on the coast, just south of L.A. It used to be a golf club, but now it’s all low sandy-colored buildings and koi lakes and a running track, which I’m totally intending to use sometime. Plus they sell fresh juices, and healthy meals, and there’s free yoga at lunchtime on the beach, and in the evenings they show inspirational movies outside while everyone lolls on beanbags. Basically, you don’t ever want to leave.
I’m sitting in a room with a dark-wood floor and billowing white curtains at the windows and softly fragranced air. All the rooms at Golden Peace smell the same—it’s their signature scent of ylang-ylang and cedar and … some other healthy thing. You can buy the scented candles at the gift shop. I’ve already bought eight, because they’ll make perfect Christmas presents.