I’m still buzzing from the amazing response to last weekend’s City Listening II (and the success of the Dwell on Design conference, and the fun of emceeing the LABC’s Los Angeles Architectural Awards…I’m telling you, it was quite a week!). We’ll have a full recap of the evening, including photos, very soon, until then, you can read this review by Mike Neal at Architizer.

But before all that, I just wanted to show you this beautiful photo by Monica Orozco, which was taken at the very end of the night, and take a quick moment to thank my two lovely co-hosts—or as you can see from this photo, maybe three lovely co-hosts—Marissa Gluck and Haily Zaki. These ladies are two of the smartest, hardest-working, most creative forces of nature in this city. Over the last two years they have organized and strategized and materialized dozens of events with huge smiles on their faces and strong cocktails in their hands (except, you know, when Haily got knocked up). And in the process, they’ve also become two of my dearest friends. I can’t wait to see what the future will bring! And on that note, here’s what I read at the event to open it up:  Our de LaB manifesto, in rhyme, of course.

The de LaB Manifesto

We were tired of PowerPoints and panels and pretense
Sick of working the room at lame-ass design events
Tired of the stodginess that came with such happenings
We wanted to know what our neighbors were making

La Brea was picked as an arbitrary line,
But we knew wherever we drew it someone would mind
We welcome the Westsiders, they’re not ostracized
As long as they don’t lie about not crossing the 405

What began as a drinking club quickly turned civic
Our visions for the city became more optimistic
Don’t get me wrong, we still like the drinking
Alcohol is liquid innovation to fuel design thinking

de Lab gets people out of cars and into their city
Introduces neighbors and promotes collaborativity
I know that’s not a word, I invented it myself
de LaB is DIY: We do it ourselves

For design in LA we will walk and ride bikes
We take buses and trains and take LA River hikes
We’re a committed gang of creators who can make a difference
We’re raising a new generation of Los Angeles urbanists

Your support has been amazing for the events we’ve had before
There’s a whole LA out there we haven’t begun to explore
All we need is your support…
…actually, no, we really need your money

By drawing a line through the city, divided
We ended up making it feel more united
We love LA so much it makes us feel giddy
Now sit back, have a drink (that part is important!) and listen to your city

Thanks to everyone for coming and for supporting de LaB!

This falls under the category of truly amazing: Austrian designer Gottfried Mangione actually captured the entire unboxing of his Gelatobaby Patch (as well as other assorted bonus prizes, as you can see.) Do you want one? Think about your ideal flavor combination and drop me a line!

If I had this information about ten years sooner, I would never, ever have considered that little foray into advertising.

Yep, I think maybe the best day of my career so far was when two pairs of Ecco Biom running shoes—in beetroot and sustainable white yak leather. Yes, yak. Yes, yak—arrived on my doorstep along with an assignment: Run.

Run as far and as fast as you possibly can in a month’s time. Follow the training program developed by Danish triathlete Torbjørn Sindball. Wear these shoes, listen to your feet. And write about it for ID.

Now I’m no Ironman (you’ve tagged along with me on my 25K trail run last summer, and I ran the LA half-marathon in December), but in the last year I’ve gotten more serious about running than I ever have before. And there was something so different about doing this activity I loved and knew was good for me, and truly paying attention to how it felt, how I felt, for my job. And then being rewarded—financially, yes, but physically, too—in the end. And did I mention yet that these pretty pink shoes are absolutely adorable?

You can read all about how I ran, I ran so far away, in “Less Cushion for the Pushin’” over at ID. Coincidentally—don’t you love how every article I link to has a little editorial appendix nowadays—ID has a brand-new editor, one Jesse Ashlock, who was previously my editor at VMAN and has a pretty incredible story about getting in a brutal bike accident but leaving the ER because it was too expensive. Congrats, Jesse (and I hope all your scars ended up looking cool)!

As regular readers of this blog know, I never, ever make mistakes. Except for that one time, but the authorities were never able to prove I was solely at fault. And besides, a few of those kids said they liked spending the night alone in the desert.

All kidding aside, in my excitement to tell you all about the piece I wrote on the Watts House Project yesterday (and probably in my excitement to write it), I didn’t take much time to like, actually read it. But something felt funny in my tummy after I picked up a copy in print. And when I realized my error…well, there’s nothing quite like feeling your stomach switch places with your intestines, is there?

So, um, the famous artist who created the “Love” sculpture that will grace one of the houses of the Watts House Project? The same artist who created a beautiful Love necklace that is being sold to raise funds for that house? That’s Alexandra Grant. One more time: Alexandra Grant. The Alexandra Lange person I attributed all that to in the piece? Well, she’s pretty great, too. But she’s an architectural critic who I was reading a lot while I was proofing my NY architecture guide. I got my freelance wires crossed. And that, my friends, makes me feel like a turd. A supreme turd. With a side of extra turdy sauce.

Since I won’t be able to fully fathom how horrifically stupid I feel until I finish headbutting my laptop later on tonight, in the meantime, I think there’s only one way I know to try and make it up to The Real Alexandra:  Manual labor.

You see, Alexandra’s just begun work—with my friend, architect Mike Niemann, who will also probably never let me live this down—on the Cerant house, where the Love sculpture will eventually be. And for the next two weekends, they need volunteers to help with the landscaping and stormwater catchment system (courtesy of my other friends at Materials & Applications). I don’t know how many drought-tolerant shrubs I’ll have to plant to dig myself out of this mess, but gosh darnit, I’m going to try. See you there on May 3; RSVP and more information here.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to Honor Fraser, the gallery that represents the great artist Alexandra Grant, to buy at least 100 Alexandra Grant Love necklaces. I think one of them will look really good next to this gigantic dead albatross around my neck.

I’m especially psyched for this especially long weekend and, my, what a weekend it will be: Friday the 13th, Valentine’s Day and President’s Day all in a row! In all my haste to bake a cake of Abraham Lincoln in a heart-patterned hockey mask, I’d almost forgotten to celebrate another very important milestone: The one year anniversary of this blog.

Yes, it was just over a year ago I said my hellos and welcomes and challenged everyone to make the most of Leap Day (which I ended up spending in Helsinki—wow, has it really been a year?). We’ve been to Denver and Seattle and made a surprise trip to Glasgow, Scotland together. You’ve even spent a long, sweaty summer in New York by my side.

So I’d love to give each and every one of you out there the very first Gelatobaby product, the Gelatobaby Patch.

But seeing as I am a remedial seamstress at best, I think I’d be sewing myself right out of a writing career.

So, the first five readers who drop a comment (or send an email) telling me which of your favorite flavors of gelato you’d like to permanently affix to your clothing will get a custom cone, hand and machine-stitched to a canvas backing, complete with fusing for easy iron-on. Each Gelatobaby Patch is made from at least one piece of fabric snipped from clothing I’ve outgrown from eating too much gelato.

Just post a comment saying which two or three flavors of gelato you’d like me to scoop onto your cone. (Or maybe two flavors and a certain topping? I like a challenge.) Don’t post your address, I’ll contact you via email for that, and I’ll even throw in a Scoop so you can enjoy your Gelatobaby Patch* in fully-branded style.

Thanks to all of you for sticking with me throughout the year. That’s why I want Gelatobaby to stick with you…perhaps on your favorite cardigan.

Have a great long weekend.

*WARNING: Application of the Gelatobaby Patch will not reduce gelato cravings.

In case anyone has been fretting about what to get me this Valentine’s Day, stop your shopping and just buy me this. I think I’d probably wear a medium?

You’ll have to trust me about the fact that I didn’t suddenly decide to print sweatshirts proclaiming my airbrushed love for myself. This is being marketed on Amazon as the I Love Alissa Walker Sweatshirt. It came up in a Google Alert. For a brief moment, after I clicked on the link and before the Amazon page loaded, I thought I had a fan club.

Of course the sweatshirt doesn’t actually exist, and it’s obviously some kind of marketing ploy for custom printing. But there’s no contact information, and the vendor comes up as invalid. Plus, how was this image even generated with my name? Has this kind of fake site replaced those companies that send you those pens printed with your business name on it? Is this the new egocentric-streetwear spam?

Anyway, I gave it a glowing review.

There are a two simple rules for our gift exchange. First of all, we prefer anything used, pre-owned or old; preferably used and pre-owned by an old person. Who is now dead. Secondly, some element of the gift should be handmade. This part’s easy because we are ardent card-makers, and simply re-engineering the most recent J.Crew catalog into a compilation of tasteless double entendres—Beth’s specialty, not mine—counts.

But still every year, I want to up the ante, so this year I looked to a recent article I wrote for the September issue of ReadyMade about the amazing DIY silkscreening studio here in LA, FreshPressed. Jonathan Sample was your typical jaded graphic designer until he realized he was totally missing out the fun part of his job…the part that actually required making stuff. Banking on concurring trends of the ironic t-shirt movement and a resurgence of the hand-drawn aesthetic, he started FreshPressed to bring the seemingly-complex  world of silkscreening to the masses. Even the Photoshop-clueless can walk into FreshPressed, scribble something on a piece of paper and walk out with a hand-silkscreened t-shirt in about an hour.

I knew right away no silly new graphic by me could beat original vintage artwork created by Beth herself, so I dug up this circa 1987 museum-quality drawing Beth made of She-Ra, Princess of Power, riding her horse Swift Wind (yes, I had to look that up). After trying to manipulate and clean up the image myself, Keith (who has made several projects at FreshPressed himself) steered me towards the high-tech tools of tracing paper and a marker, and I recreated Beth’s masterpiece, scanned it back in and created an Illustrator file (something that Jonathan and his team can all do for you if you’d prefer).

When I got to FreshPressed Jonathan burned my screen after making sure the size and line thickness would work for what I wanted to print on. After picking out my paint color (pink, duh) and a few test prints, I was pulling the squeegie over Beth’s best gifts ever:

A t-shirt to show the world that she, too, possesses the power of Grayskull.

And a tote bag for toting around her sword when not in use.

This Friday, FreshPressed is having its first art show with work by local artists Kime Buzzelli, Sean Cassidy, Rory Wilson, Frohawk Two Feathers, and Andy Mueller. If you’re around, be sure to stop by and check out the digs so you can start envisioning your next gift. And here’s the ReadyMade article (with a studly photo of Jonathan for the ladies out there).

Two of the smartest writers in town, Virginia Postrel and Kate Coe, are now collaborating on Deep Glamour, a blog that explores glamour “in its many manifestations, from movies, fashion, and advertising to real estate, politics, and sports.” You might remember from reading Postrel’s blog Dynamist that the author of The Substance of Style is working on a new book about glamour, and as part of her research for that, she’s also written some absolutely fantastic stories about the search for authentic glamour in contemporary culture. (One of my favorites is a profile of Julius Shulman, which I gave a shout out to when I was at UnBeige.) Kate was once my compatriot in crime at mediabistro.com—she eviscerated egos at FishbowlLA while I was at UnBeige, but she always had a blossoming design blogger inside her.

What I love about the topic of glamour—other than the fact that no one out there covers it, or talks about it much these days at all, for that matter—is that it certainly covers all the things I love, like design and architecture and fashion and food and travel and even tech, but only the very best parts, when its creators are truly trying to evoke this very specific, emotional response. It’s not an easy thing to do, but you’ll always recognize glamour instantly the moment you see it. And then, of course, you’ll want it.

There will also be lots of guest bloggers on board this glamour train and one of the first is another very smart local writer I know named Kate Hahn, who has written an absolutely hilarious book called Forgotten Fashion: An Illustrated Faux History Of Outrageous Trends And Their Untimely Demise. Kate graciously sent me an advance copy of this summer and I would turn to it when I needed to remember to be funny as I was pounding away at the keys/pavement. If you’re looking for a guffaw or two out of your usually-humorless fashionista friend this holiday season, buy them a copy of this book. I promise they’ll enjoy laughing at themselves.

Even though I’m stuck inside playing a neverending game of Tetris with my possessions, it just got triumphantly sunny and warm after a few too many days of early-onset May Gray. And since I’m packing up for a few months away, I kind of feel like I’m going to camp. And that means one thing: Summer is here!

As you may remember, some time ago I traveled to a faraway land to eat beef donuts, blow glass, relive some childhood textile fantasies and take a lovely unexpected holiday in Scotland on the way home. I also attended an exceptional wedding, which you can now read all about in the May issue of ID.

What began as a summer speaker series held at the studio of celebrated Finnish architect Alvar Aalto evolved into a collaboration among an all-star cast of designers—Dai Fujiwara from Issey Miyake, the Bouroullec brothers, Hella Jongerius, Louise Campbell, Ilkka Suppanen, Miguel Fluxá and Jaime Hayón of Camper—which they decided should take the symbolic form of a wedding. But then it became more than symbolic, when Ulla-Maaria Mutanen and Jyri Engeström, a Finnish couple who now live in San Francisco with their baby Eliel, were tipped that there was a wedding in need of a bride and groom by their friend Laura Sarvilinna. Laura, along with Päivi Jantunen, are exceptional publicists for Helsinki’s finest designers (as well as my very gracious hostesses during my visit).

You can read the entire article including some gorgeous photos of the very lucky couple, and then be sure to check out the wedding’s website for more information about the couple and the designers, appropriately named It’s a Beautiful Day.

Oh, and Bridezillas, eat your heart out: Ulla-Maaria told me she never once picked up a wedding magazine.