My Darlings
Louella has returned! We have come home to our Jack Wolf high above Sunset Plaza Drive. After Oscar, our especially well-formed chauffeur, unloaded our 14 Vuitton trunks and hat boxes and our faithful (but woefully plain) retainer, Greta, drew our bath and fixed us our morning gin and tonic (hold the tonic) we immediately got on our Princess phone to Mama to catch up. Our elegant and lovely Vassar sorority sister told us she had had a number of inquiries as to our whereabouts.
So Darlings the truth is that your dear Ms. Louella appears to have stepped on some tender toes with some of our humble observations. After the threats started arriving (yes dears, there was ugliness in our staid neighborhood) we packed up our peignoirs and marabou mules and high tailed it to Monte Carlo.
We have returned to Tinseltown to find so many changes to our beloved Westside! First of all, what happened to the real estate market in the three months we were at the tables in Monte? We left Tinseltown so robust and full of promise. Now the stalwart and completely credible Los Angeles Times seems to not be able to find enough space to print all kinds of biased and slanted stories of real estate doom and gloom. They seem to be absolutely reveling in our misfortune. If we didn't know better we might think they were enjoying watching us suffer. It just shows you what happens when Ms. Louella isn't here to keep things in line. Of course in the old days it just meant a call into Otis Chandler and everything would be put right again. (For you young and tender things, the Chandlers used to own the L.A. Times. Otis always did have a soft spot for Ms. Louella's soft spot)
Give us a chance to unpack our jewels and martini glasses and we shall be once again be sharing all things juicy and sordid in the Beverly Hills real estate world. Don't forget to drop your dear Louella a line if you know of anything juicy happening or about to happen or would like to see happen. We have interesting items concerning Joe Babajian, Kathryn Shaffer, Tom Dunlap, Joyce Rey, Linda May, Jeff Hyland, Billy Rose, Alan Long, Peter Hernandez, Lou Piatt, Chris Cortazzo, Art Spaeth, Chris Morrow, Michael Nourmand, Crosby Doe, Madison Offenhauser, Joyce Essex, Stan Smith, Stan Richman, Natalie Janger, Stephen Shapiro and, my dears, the list goes on and on. Who is going where? Who is sleeping with whom to get the next big listing? (well, that's usually easy to guess) Who is opening? Who is closing? Who is going away to contemplate their mistakes while sharing a small barred space? Oh dear, all of this speculation is making me thirsty. Greta! Bring us another gin and tonic. Hold the tonic.
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The absolute truth behind the glamorous facade that is Los Angeles real estate. Well, perhaps it's not the entire truth. Hmmm Perhaps it's mostly not true. Ok ok - so it's probably all made up. Imagine! Telling white lies in Tinseltown! What will happen next? It all makes for good cocktail chit chat, but don't believe any of it. Butterfly Kisses!
Our Divine Self
About Me
- Louella Hopper
- A vile and vicious gossip. She researches nothing and if she hasn't heard anything good recently she makes it up. Ms. Louella has walked down the marriage aisle nine times, each time insisting on her virginity. She is cared for by her faithful retainers, Greta, her sturdy maid, and Oscar, her especially well-formed chauffeur.
10 comments:
I for one am thrilled to have your besotted self back where you belong. We missed you! I have heard that you look more youthful? Could it be you were once again under the knife instead of at the tables? We'll be looking for those tell tale scars by your ears!
Welcome home Darling, we're glad you're back!
Oh Ms. Louella at last you've returned! Now the fun can start. We need the dirt.
Yes but did you remember to leave all your money in Euros like I told you?
Welcome back. Can't wait for the dish.
Yay!!
I love Louella Hopper!
This drunk lady knows all the dirt!
To our darling Ed from Westwood:
Our luck at the tables in Monte was breathtaking! One night while sitting at the roulette table a handsome and mysterious South American businessman who kept staring down my décolletage gave us a 1,000 Euro chip for good luck. We placed it on red 35 (my age . . . ) and won! We let it ride and before the night was over your Louella was stuffing 600,000 Euros in her bag. Some of it went towards our bill at the Hotel de Paris, and the rest went towards making ourselves even more lovely than we already are.
But you could have paid cash for a 1.2m flat in Manhattan with those Euros! Beauty fades, real estate is forever.
When in New York we always stay at the Pierre. Our stay is always taken care of by a kind and handsome man who has been in love with us for years. Of course, we do have some photographs of him and a woman who is not his wife, but that's a completely different story!
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