So, yesterday I got the chance to meet a woman whose style, class, and ability to not care what other people say or think about her I admire. Burlesque star and fetish model Dita von Teese was doing a book signing at Revamp in downtown Los Angeles, and eager to meet one of my idols I made my reservation, bought brand new vintage outfits, and carefully planned my make-up and hair.
As I am wont to do any time I drive somewhere unfamiliar, I got lost. Luckily, I wasn't lost for too long and made it just in time, and Dita had not arrived yet. When she did arrive, everyone got in a line and I spent a few minute playing with my camera to make sure I had the settings correct.
I was second in line and making sure I had the correct shutter speed when my camera froze up. In a panic, I started flipping the On/Off toggle, changing modes, focusing on the lights to get the shutter to close, but nothing helped. When my turn came I handed my book to Dita, with my camera in hand, said hello, marveled at both how tiny she was in person and how close I was to her, and she handed me my book back and gestured to my camera, asking if I wanted someone to take a picture. I told her that my camera had stopped working, and, always graceful in her Dior wool suit and carefully curled hair, she replied "Shit."
A nice lady took my photo and e-mail address, and when I sat down in the audience, I remembered that I had a camera on my phone. Luckily, by the time I figured this out, the line had dwindled, and the remaining people were fans who had similar photo failures. I managed to get off a blurry, soft-focus shot of Dita and me, and I was glad at least got that.
When the event ended, I set my book down to write my e-mail address on a bit of paper for the nice photography lady, then took the elevator downstairs. I had not gone far, however, when I realized that my load was lighter than before. I had forgotten my newly signed book!
Cursing my stupidity at leaving my book and embarrassed at now having to go back, I ran back to the building and took the elevator up to the twelfth floor, where I found my book sitting on a chair. I managed to board the next elevator as the doors were closing when the gentleman across from me held the doors back from shutting, and Dita and her entourage (little dachshund included) boarded the elevator, and the fans pressed against the walls held their breath at their good luck.
My only thought on the ride down was that her hair was shiny.
I do have a vague sort of belief in karma, and I know that if my absent-mindedness had not caused me to leave my book upstairs I would not have boarded an elevator with Dita, and if my camera had not froze up I wouldn't have gone up to her the second time. Whenever I get frustrated that things aren't going the way I planned, I just have to remember the book, the elevator, and my burlesque idol.
(But my camera is still broken.)
Isn't it nice to know that fun and crazy things happen when things don't go the way you planned?
Posted by: sam | 12/21/2009 at 09:36 PM