We live in such a cool part of LA.
Day 2 in our new apartment and Gin and I were out and about running errands, buying things etcetera and decided to call past our local Trader Joe’s supermarket on the way home to complement our purchases from the local Wednesday Farmers Market.
It was just on 5pm and the supermarket carpark was busy and so were the aisles. People picked up their daily groceries from the Silver Lake shop which, incidentally, only sells food and not any other type of grocery.
So many trendy types were in there, most on their own. There was only one child that I saw, on the hip of an even hipper mother who looked as though she should be famous, but who had knotted, unbrushed hair. This made me feel better about my knotty, frizzy hair.
Strangely, I hadn’t thought too much about what I was wearing when I left the house. I was still in my clean outfit of black trackie pants, a brown top and black Kathmandu fleece with my lime green Dunlop Volleys thrown on my feet. I looked rather bogan-like, yet rather than feeling too dorky to go out in public, I felt as though my Australian accent cancelled out any bad fashion.
In essence, my Australian accent makes me cool, or at the very least, interesting. That, and I think it also got us out of a parking ticket today!