Melrose Meltdown

January 30th, 2022

There are no clear events to describe these days. It’s just a blur. The past few days I felt a bit ill, probably due to those face masks. Today I finally felt energized and made it to Beverly Hills. I walked up to Chateau Marmont but didn’t have the courage to walk in - the gates were closed and there were no windows to look inside the building. This was probably to scare off the tourists like me. 

I continued my walk to Melrose Avenue, where I found a coffee place to write and drink iced lattes. Different types of people walked in, mostly women. The one wearing even more make-up than the other. Multiple Instagram posts were shot, though the café wasn’t even that pretty. Though with the exception of one, the women were hardly my type and shared hardly my style. Still, I felt somewhat ugly around them. Even though I wore my favorite skirt, my new blouse and my best shoes. There’s no rational reason for insecurity.  

The only explanation I can give for this is a clash of cultures. I’m a stereotypical Dutch woman. I don’t use a curling iron, because I already have curly hair. I don’t wear revealing clothes because there’s already so much of my skin. The more my personality grows, the less make-up I wear. I wear heels to be an even bigger Amazon, not to please 

Perhaps that’s the difference between us Dutch women and LA women: we are, they try to be. Or at least, they hold up illusions. So as much as I might embody, it won’t look as good on the outside. 

There’s a reason every street corner is filled with billboards: LA is one big marketplace, one giant advertisement. The buildings by themselves are ugly, but they’re designed to catch the light like a model in front of a camera. Still, I struggle capturing a good picture of LA’s beauty. Somehow, it doesn’t pose for me.