| A look behind the Hollywood façade reveals the unglamorous realities of party-going as a job, car payments that exceed rent, and $300 shirts purchased on sale. By Tim Shiner So you think Hollywood is all glamour? Well, let's just say beauty is only pocketbook-deep. La La Land is where you find beautiful people driving beautiful cars and meeting at beautiful (and smoke-free) watering holes. That's what Hollywood wants you to see - and what Hollywood so desperately wants to believe. The truth is... well, not that far off. But you must remember - Hollywood shows you only one side of the set. Just like in the movies, real Hollywood life is one giant façade. All right, you've seen the television shows and the movies: It seems that everyone in Los Angeles is driving a BMW, Mercedes or Jaguar. The truth is - are you sitting down? - they are! But what you don't see is that most of these "industry" folk are actually living in either a studio or a one-bedroom apartment. Image, it seems, really does matter - and even more so when you're in the business of making movies. If you are not seen in an acceptable automobile, you are not taken seriously. In fact, in the sprawling metropolis of LA, people's first impression of you is, very often, you driving up in an auto. Hence the need for a splashy car. Shopping is also an integral part of the Hollywood scene - but, no matter how hip Target (even pronounced faux-French as "Tar-zhay") may be, one must shop at the better stores. Or at least attend a sale and buy a small trinket to have wrapped and put in a large bag. Bloomingdale's may be fine for the uninitiated, Macy's is almost acceptable, but for the cat's pajamas, you must be seen at Fred Segal. This place is literally unbelievable: A man's button-down shirt, made of who-knows-what, that is all but see-through (metrosexual alert) starts at $300! It's even worse if you're a woman: A single pair of denim jeans can set you back over a grand! For the budget-conscious, there is always Loehman's or TJ Maxx from which to get your one-year-old clothing. The discounted prices are great, and you can say, "Well, I just haven't had time to update my wardrobe to this season yet." A surefire way to get noticed is to pointedly dress down. Don't shave; wear sunglasses, jeans with holes, 10-year-old sneakers - everyone will stare. Whispers of, "I think that's..." and, "Isn't that... from that show...?" will waft to your ears. It is a bit disconcerting at first, until you learn to enjoy the fame of anonymity. Indeed, one of the best ways to get the best service at a restaurant in town (famous for its pretty wait staff and extreme lack of service) is to go out "incognito." You can spot these would-be famous people looking ultra-hip in the latest denim and the just-right shirt from Segal's, while true hidden celebs even wear their old togs from before they were famous (e.g., JC Penney and Sears Toughskins). Drink Up, Boys OK, so let's illustrate the concept of the "$20,000 Millionaire" in terms of the everyday. Coffee: At any given time during the day you will see a variety of folk at the coffeehouse du jour. I don't mean you'll see a few people; I'm talking droves of "Industry People." You'll ask yourself, "Don't these people work?" It's not about stopping by and splurging on a triple half-caf low-fat cinnamon latte - it's the whole afternoon spent there, being seen! Of course, you must also have your fashionable Mac laptop open. For maximum effect, you should also be typing; typing is a great indicator that you are in fact a working scribe. Home: Once you're done with your mandatory coffeehouse appearance, you go home. And where might that be? Zip codes here are extremely important. If you're not in Beverly Hills, you must at least be "BH-adjacent." And then you are statutorily required to give parties for all your industry friends. Here's the problem: You can't possibly invite them to where you actually live, impressive zip code or not. Imagine them driving up to a small apartment complex and crowding into a one-room apartment! For survival, it is imperative to make friends with someone who is wealthy enough to own a plot of land to borrow for the evening. Better yet, host a party at an exclusive nightclub and make sure the doorman admits only those with the password. Telephone Number: Your telephone prefix is also a very important fashion accessory. It is so important that even people from "the Valley" travel over the rocky and hazardous Hollywood Hills to purchase their cell phones. If you must dial an 818 (Valley prefix), it must be to your drug dealer, porn supplier or an unfortunate friend. Should you have a 323 (downtown LA to the Beverly Center shopping mall) number, you are doing much better. Still, the true and correct prefix is undoubtedly 310. This magic number encompasses West Hollywood (BH-adjacent), Brentwood (BH-adjacent), Westwood (BH-adjacent), Santa Monica and, of course, Beverly Hills. A good friend of mine - OK, I just met her a week ago - who recently moved to Los Angeles was actually advised by the cell phone sales clerk that a 310 prefix was essential. Party Fare: Let's say you've been invited to a party and it's at a nightclub - and drinks and food are not included. But you're also making large payments on your new Prius (the only economy car that is acceptable, though it still costs buckets) and rent (more than half of your salary). Well, your excuse for not partaking in drink or food is that you are on the newest diet fad: cayenne pepper, honey, hot water and lemon. "I'm cleansing now," you say, sipping your Perrier with a twist, "but thank you." (The next party, you can pray, will be at a friend of a friend's acquaintance's house - and at least they will have some food. Eat then. And don't forget to bring plastic bags to take some goodies home for the rest of the week.) Connections: The old adage, "It's who you know, not what you know," is true. Honestly, can Keanu Reeves really act? Networking, while you're in Hollywood, is an essential art of survival. If you can't make it to the giant post-screening shindig a friend of a friend is throwing that everybody is going to, you have options. The options I'm about to tell you about do exist. I've seen and heard them firsthand. One: Attend an AA meeting. The meetings are usually filled with industry types. (See the newspaper to find out who just came out of rehab or is ready to go in - this is how you will meet and befriend them, by sharing a common addiction.) Two: Attend the funeral of an industry professional. As I was writing this piece, an industry professional with whom I was acquainted passed. To my utter shock, another acquaintance of mine said that although he did not personally know the deceased, he was going to attend the wake to network. It's probably safe to assume that networking at a funeral is not a common practice in other lines of work. But you do have to give credit to the sheer cojones of this eager pro. |
