by Alyssa Ramos
When they opened the doors to the shuttle that took us to the secret, private estate where the Bootsy Bellows party was being held, it was like a rowdy bunch of 20-something year old Kindergarteners, eager to get out to recess in the best adult playground in the world. It literally looked like a party scene from The Great Gatsby except the fashion was boho-chic, the pool was bigger, and Leonardo DiCaprio was lounging comfortably in a cabana getting mobbed by girls instead of chasing one around. It was exactly where I wanted to be and was lucky enough to get a last minute RSVP after a sudden cancellation of a romantic weekend in Napa. Yes boys, I’m single.
The first thing we saw was the massive golden arches of the sponsored McDonald’s pop-up that stood high and wide across the back yard area and had crowds of brave people ordering from their free menu at the food bar below them. We chose to stick to our Coachella-diet and headed straight for the cocktail bar across the pool.
We made our way down the fairytale-like pathway that separated the pool and cabana area from a grassy little nook that was complete with a duck pond and a red Corvette – one of the other party sponsors – parked right on top of it. I spotted a few of my friends on the lawn and went to say hi, except for some reason they were extra excited to see me (even though I see them almost every day in LA), and one of them, Adam, ended up pulling me down to the ground, so that he could whisper “Leo’s in the cabana behind you” as my ass was up in the air facing him. That was awkward. He quickly compensated by shoving his glass of whiskey in my face.
We continued up to the bar, which was set up under a free-standing patio with a canopy of flower vines interlaced between wooden planks that casted some much appreciated shade amidst the hundred degree weather. “Why are we waiting here, let’s go to my friend’s cabana.” Adam scoffed in his oh-so-LA-gay dialect. Adam knows everyone, and even if he doesn’t, he pretends like he does and typically gets away with it, so I trusted him to drag us back down to the cabana area, which is where I preferred to be anyway.
As I should have expected, everyone from LA was at the cabanas lining the pool below, where only a few brave souls dared to swim. Who actually goes in the pool at pool parties, like omg. We took some stereotypical trendy Coachella pool party pictures, got some drinks, and then suddenly, my attention span drastically shifted from “Oh mah gawd, I love your outfit” with the fabulous gays, to the not one, but TWO guys that looked exactly like Justin Bieber. Knowing fully well that most people take my Bieber obsession seriously (and I’m starting to even belieb it’s real too), I tracked them down to cause some instant social media ruckus. Turns out one lives in LA and is straight. Just saying.
By this point I was fairly drunk, and I know this because of the obnoxious double Bieber pic I Instagrammed with poor caption grammar, so we went to go do the one thing we previously decided to do after a few drinks…jump off the high dive onto the giant inflatable pillow. It really didn’t look that high…but it was. I sobered up real quick after that.
People started to filter out around 6, so we called our Uber and did one last lap to do important things like take more selfies and check out Paris Hilton‘s outfit – a black strappy one piece with matching black sunhat and Chanel sunglasses – then headed back to the house to regroup before attempting to go to the H&M Music Loves Fashion party and Neon Carnival. Wooo.
(Note: By the way, I heard that I name drop a lot in my blog, and just wanted to say NO SHIT, what do you think the point of having a blog about Hollywood is? What trends more online, celeb names, or my dog’s? Come on. Also, the majority of the things I say are sarcastic, somehow some people haven’t caught on to that yet so just wanted to write it out for you.) 🙂
Leave a reply