The Beat

Scenes from Plane Life

June 15, 2011 In the Air, Takedown, The Beat

It’s a four-hour night flight from MSP to LAX and we’ve rushed onto the plane from the Delta lounge, fortified by a glass of white wine and a sampling of salty sweet peanuts. Nasal small talk is not what we need, but we take it nonetheless. “How long is the flight?” the Aisle behind us asks. “Four hours” answers the Window. “Ughh I hate flying” whines the Aisle. “Oh, this isn’t a big of a deal, I travel ALL the time” offers the Window, who is clearly reusing his standard demonstration of value. This could go on, but we’re already up in the air and the flight attendant has announced that the touch screens have activated on the back of each seat. “Be kind to the person in front of you and don’t overdo it with the pressing” she says, absolutely serious. But the fingers have started, and the feeling of unsolicited Shiatsu jolts us from the sketch we’re drawing. Window is attacking the screen like the Wii he keeps at the office. Window is reversing the carpal tunnel from his Blackberry. Window is watching the red turn to white as he works his finger pads. Something obviously must be done. Something…

Fast as a muscle reflex, our pen rips from the page, shoots back, and grabs for his hand. It’s hot pink nails against short, terrified ones. But he’s too fast. Damn. But we’ve made our statement and stopped the ju-jitsu. And taken a stand against the lack of kinesthetic awareness.

Le Posh Salon

May 25, 2011 Hollywood, Spaaah, The Beat

A visit to a new spa is like a new crush – the rush, the anticipation, the comparison to ones prior. Our curiosity was piqued on many drives down Sunset Blvd. as we watched Le Posh Salon grow out of an unwieldy streetcorner on a frantic rush hour corridor. We hesitated on the bright neon sign outside, but we’re not one to judge on externals alone. The interior is stunning – bright, spacious, full of light, and frosted with the kind of orange you want to paint on your fingernails and wear as dangly earrings.

We were greeted with a glass of Veuve (just our style!) and called leisurely to our appointment with Tisha, the massage coordinator. Music in spas is a topic we’ll cover later, but we were wholly impressed by the ambient music selection during our 60 minutes. Blissful, soothing, but neither too organic or too sycophantic-female-singer. The deep pressure and tension-relieving strokes of Swedish massage had us nearly asleep and our hour felt luxuriously longer.

We followed our massage with another glass of Veuve and a pedicure with Malvina in the brightest pink we could scavenge. Good pedicures in Los Angeles are a dime a dozen, but a truly outstanding one is as rare as Laurent Perrier by the glass. Our feet looked and felt amazing after (“are those still ours?”) and the perfect polish lasted for weeks.

First Hush – Library Bar at the Redbury

April 25, 2011 Hollywood, Speakeasy Swank, The Beat

We were sated by the third floor walk up, reminiscent of our college library that seemed to tower for monologues. It’s here that Cleo has found the proper reverse to dish cracking, or where SBE has found a quiet corner to install a library of romances, treaties, or tell-all memoirs – the white paper book jackets won’t let on. The couches are pulled from your favorite formal dining room and the outdoor patio is the right amount of air between a dusty volume of Balzac and a heated conversation in English-clipped French.

Library Bar Living Room and Dining Room:

the redbury library bar bookcase the redbury library bar lounge

Library Bar Patio:

the redbury library bar patio

Father Daughter Spa Day

April 14, 2011 Bliss, Hollywood, Spaaah, The Beat

There is nothing more luxurious than a day wholly to yourself in the middle of the week. So when we made plans with our father on his vacation day off, we texted that morning, “Standby, making plans. Text you in an hour.” Of course we were up to no good. After railroading through a cancellation in the Bliss roster, we texted: “Putting you in a Blissage 3pm. Am scheduled for a Triple Oxygen Facial 3:15”.

So father/daughter spa day was on, and we made plans for lunch at the rooftop pool prior. Absolutely nuts over the ceviche in the hotel restaurant, we opted for the ceviche tacos and a Sauv Blanc (indulgence day, remember?) while Dad chose the fish tacos and a Chardonnay. It was a sunny, warm day and the views breezed for miles. “This is so nice,” he said. We agreed. We live in the same city, separated by the gulf of two freeways and a ferocious amount of street congestion. But that’s hardly an excuse.

Lunch was a fast, leisurely two hours, and then we blew in to Bliss. “Checking in,” we said, introducing our father. “Let’s get you flip-flops!” they offered, ushering him backstage. We asked if they might offer him some Youth samples, then headed to the locker room to grab a quick steam shower and sip a glass of their complimentary champagne. Our facial was soothing, leaning on the Porefector gadget for extractions, an oxygen peel, and a blast of pure oxygen from which we kept stealing small huffs.

We met in the hotel lobby, fresh-faced and tension-free. “Thank you sweetie! I feel great.” “Did they offer you champagne?” we asked, the concerned host. “They did!” he laughed. “I didn’t have time to drink it before so I saved it in my locker for after.” (Ahh, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree…) And we walked outside for the short drive home, promising to see each other soon, promising that we would do this again sometime. And certain we would.

The Massage of Our Life

April 5, 2011 Bliss, Hollywood, Spaaah, The Beat

There’s good, and there’s heart-racing, chest-pounding, toe-tingling FABULOUS. We were back at our favorite Bliss spa for a drop-in massage (can’t seem to plan ahead) and landed a 3pm with Moeul. He introduced himself enthusiastically and, legally blind, led us to the room with the use of his white cane. We guided him to Naked, our body butter of choice, and settled in for the tension-taming of our life. Moeul had a sixth sense for the knots in our neck and the tightness in our back, and through a miasma of Thai, Shiatsu, and Swedish techniques, we emerged a brighter and infinitely more balanced being. There are some knots you just can’t get yourself, and it’s those for which we’re ever devoted to a humble and profound master named Moeul.