Heels, rain, and the Queen Witch
A few weeks ago I told you I couldn't wait to show you what I'd learned in my heels class. We got our finals videos back. So here it is.
I won't pretend it wasn't nerve-wracking. You shoot your individual video first, alone, in a room with thirty other women watching, before anyone does the group numbers. That is a lot of eyes. But those women turned out to be the best part of the whole thing. They hyped me the entire time I was on the floor, cheering, calling out, willing me through it. I wore a bodysuit that was, let's say, hanging on for dear life, and somewhere in the middle of the song I stopped worrying about any of that and just felt completely, ridiculously sexy. We danced to "No Pole" by Don Toliver. Watching the video back, seeing what my body could do after only three weeks, I was genuinely proud of myself. That doesn't happen as often as it should.
Then I flew to New Orleans for my first Jazzfest, and it was so much more than I expected. I've done Coachella, Lollapalooza, SXSW, Governors Ball. This was a different animal entirely. More culture, more soul, more actual diversity than any of them.
My favorite of the whole weekend was the Queen Witch herself, Stevie Nicks. As she moved through "Dreams" and "Landslide," a light thunderstorm rolled in over the crowd, and I got to dance in the warm rain while she sang. I don't know how to describe it except magical. One of those moments you couldn't plan if you tried.
A less magical New Orleans education: stinging caterpillars. They are everywhere in the spring, and nobody warns you. Consider yourself warned.
I ate my way through the city. Cochon and their woodfire oysters are now an all-time favorite, full stop. Elizabeth's for breakfast, where the praline bacon should honestly be illegal. I danced late on Bourbon and then at Blue Nile and the Spotted Cat over on Frenchmen Street, did real damage on Magazine Street, and generally let the city do what it does to people.
San Francisco was its own kind of perfect. I saw Lily Allen at the Masonic, joined by some of the loveliest women in the Bay, Effy Morris, Shyla Evans, and Celeste Belle. We went to the Fairmont for a nightcap afterward. I stayed at the newly remodeled Huntington Hotel, which is officially my new favorite in the city.
Here's what I keep noticing. February taught me to surrender. March made me cry happy tears on a runway. Now I'm dancing in bodysuits and warm rain and feeling more at home in my own body than I have in years. I called it blooming a few weeks ago and meant it then. I mean it more now.
Where you'll find me
Palo Alto, May 5 to 7.
Menlo Park, May 16 and 17.
Away on retreat, May 18 to 22. Unavailable.
Photoshoot with Hello Miss, May 26. Unavailable for booking that day, but worth mentioning now: if you'd like custom content shot just for you, this is the moment to say so. Spots are very limited, and I mean that.