A Good Dress

On Secrets and Stories and Rockstars and Hemlines

No one walks for pleasure in Los Angeles, certainly not up steep streets anyway, unless it’s a formal hardcore exercise mission or hiking expedition. But being a crazy Australian, one crazy hot day I was trudging up the steep incline of Kirkwood Drive where we were subletting a friend’s house in Laurel Canyon, dragging my recalcitrant, exhausted young sons behind me, carrying my high heel sandals with a rather lovely thrift store vintage floral frock sweatily clinging to me, when a passing car slowed down and a woman stuck her head out the window and yelled ‘I love your dress!’ down the street at me. ‘