Let’s do a brief meditation exercise, close your eyes and try to imagine you’re in one of the coolest festivals on the planet (maybe even in the universe), and picture images of a desolate desert, mountainous peaks, vast and cosmic skies, harmonious hymns, palm trees, contemporary art, tasty bites and wall-to-wall riots of laughter. What’s the first thing you think of? No, really I want to know. Mine was relaxing in the grass with the sun on my face. How about you? Forging new and lasting memories or experiences is what the essence of Coachella is all about.
Reached my quota of the year for the most drunken night ever recorded in recent history, retaining (more like suppressing) no memory of it, celebrating St. Patrick’s Day has long been a standing holiday tradition to me and those near and dearest. The current amnesia is starting to decay to recapture the hideous flashbacks of when I was sashaying around in very few layers of clothing in frigid temps holding Jack (my sidekick, Jack Daniels, we go way back). In this instance, however, I had realized I forgot my coat back at the house. Somehow, I managed to defeat the hypothermia with my old man’s fleece sweatshirt, effectively concluding that a statement coat is necessary for an ensemble at all times, especially if your life depends on it. Cue: the most phenomenal cow print vintage faux-fur coat to date, worn with a graphic tee, cropped flares, sock boots, statement bag and a hat. Cool vibes take many forms, including a faceless cowgirl.