Los Angeles vs. New York with Cosmo's Associate Beauty Editor

As a lifelong Angeleno it’s difficult to always connect with the passive aggressive (and sometimes just plain aggressive) attitude of my New York counterparts. For them, they are more virtuous, better informed and, well, they reside at the center of the universe. Shoot, even most of the international flights are gatewayed through their Kennedy Airport.

My esteemed colleague and friend, Loni Albert, associate beauty editor at Cosmopolitan, is a New Yawker in every sense of the word. Always on the go, cheerfully intense, always in a hurry, and a true friend when the chips are down.

From the minute we met on a press junket in Mexico we mapped plans to crash weddings (complete with new names – Lola for her and Jefferson aka Jeffy for me) and argued the merits of Los Angeles vs. New York.

So with upcoming cross-promotions on the horizon for the Media Guy, I decided to dig in with Lola, er Loni, and make sure I understand the nuances of a city that has over twice as many people as my beloved City of Angels.

---------

MEDIA GUY: If you were re-branding New York Tourism, how would you lure us smart Angelinos to the Big Apple?

LONI ALBERT: Angelinos should come hang in NY because it's so REAL. I love love love LA, but it feels like one giant movie set. That may be fun and glamorous and "comfortable" -- I get it. But sometimes you need more than that. NY is raw and random and diverse. Maybe all the ugliness makes the small glimpses of beauty that much more beautiful.

MG:  I’m told that LA people are soft. I’ve “earned” the nickname of LA Mike, you know. Do you think you could teach LA Mike to survive in New York City? How tough do you have to be to live in New York, Lola?

LA: LA Mike aka Jeffy, I am confident that you would get along swimmingly in New York. It's not so much that you have to be tough as in "I'll kick everyone's ass!", more so resilient and able to tolerate less than pleasant situations.

For example, getting extremely up close and personal with a bajillion strangers on a jam-packed subway car during rush hour in August with no air conditioning and delays because of "train traffic ahead".

I don't think you guys are soft. I think you are smart! Why live in an over-crowded, over-priced, dirty, smelly city where the gloomy, grey buildings are so high that the sun can't even shine down on you? Probably because of the pizza. It's pretty damn good.

MG: I have to admit that it was rather comfortable last weekend poolside – 75 degrees – sipping on a freshly-blended margarita. Does that sound soft to you? I was thinking that in about four months that the power would be out on the East Coast as you shovel out from the 10 inches of snow. How do you deal with snow and the anger it produces? LA: Aside from a few days a year, the snow has never really stopped me from going to school, work, dinner with friends, etc. You just learn to deal. There are sucky things like being stuck on the bus for a few hours because the roads are scary and covered in ice, but it's also kind of sexy to spend a snow day inside with your significant other with nothing else to do but.....stay warm ;)

MG: How is New York the media capital of the universe with all of the shutdowns?

LA: What shut downs do you speak of? There really haven't been many. Part of our "tough"-ness is that the city is pretty much prepared for anything and everything and not much stops us. It's the freaking city that never sleeps. Ready to roll 24/7.

Speaking of which, that's a HUGE point for NY. When I was last in LA, we were dying to find a place to grab a bite after hours and everything was closing and kicking us out or already closed. Here, you can eat/drink/dance/get tattooed/cash a check/and catch a train or bus literally all night long. I know from experience. Leave the office (which for me is down the block from Times Square) after midnight (yes, it happens) and the streets are still occupied and there is life. Some of it may be sketchy but..whatev.

MG: “Eat/drink/dance/get tattooed/cash a check/and catch a train or bus literally all night long”...? New York is sounding like a huge movie set now. READ: The Hangover.

LA: Eat/drink/dance/tattoo/cash a check didn't all happen in the same day. Jeez. What kinda character do you take me for? It was in two days. Haha. NY is a great movie set! Because there's real stories and adventures happening here everyday, not a produced one starring a fake tanned babe with a silicone rack and a stylist. Show me some scars. And not those left by a plastic surgeon.

MG: What’s a bus? Is that public transportation? What is that? No one walks in LA., you know…

LA: A bus: a large vehicle that occasionally runs over bike messengers (I've witnessed this), often breaks down (but only when you're late to work and it's raining), who's driver usually makes double your salary and is part of a union that will defend his employment to the end -- even after he's run over a handful of bike messengers.

I actually love that you can walk anywhere in NY. I recently called you while I walked from midtown to the ferry (a two hour walk) and passed so many different and cool neighborhoods along the way. Who needs LA's redonkulous valet charges everywhere?

MG: Tell me more about spending sexy snow days. In L.A., the pretty people do Naked Sundays (a staple in the Christina Aguilera pre-divorce household). Speaking of her, did you see the picture she held up when accepting her star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame – just kidding but a Media Guy can dream.

A boy can dream.

LA: Naked any day is always a good idea. West Coast, East Coast, wherever. You don't need L.A. sunshine for that ;)

On the snow days: I'm just saying that there's sexiness to having seasons. From a gooey, girly perspective, it's romantic to watch the season's change with someone. Shows that you've been through something together. Marks the time more than just appointments you marked into your Blackberry calendar on another Sunny Tuesday.

Christina Aguilera can do whatever she wants because she is a God damned diva if ever there was one.

MG: What about your career? The beauty editor of Cosmopolitan at 24? No one believes me that I know such a brilliant writer.

LA: (a) I'm not 24 anymore, that was two years ago when we met! I'm a grandma now at 26!, and (b) my title at Cosmo is Associate Beauty Editor, but I'm thrilled nonetheless!

I don't know if I'm brilliant (but I'll take it!). I'm passionate and I think that genuine hard work and passion can really take you far and make you stand out in a sea of over privileged trust fund brats who knew the right people. And I'm not bitter of those kids, honestly. However you get to the top (hard work, family connections, sex tape) is all fair game, even when it isn't fair. That's the real American dream. Get there, however you gotta.

MG: Is it really like Sex and the City?

LA: It's a lot like Sex and The City except I don't wear $900 shoes, sleep with every waiter at every restaurant, and rarely take cabs. Okay, it's not like Sex and The City at all. But I do drink Cosmos :)

Sometimes I run in the park. Sometimes I see my family in Staten Island. Sometimes I have hot dates with the boy (which could be a fancy dinner date, or making to go cocktails and drinking them while we walk over the Brooklyn Bridge. Sometimes I have drinks with my girlfriends (who are mostly publicists and other writers). Sometimes I have cool industry events where I rub elbows with celebs and models and beautiful people.

MG: NAMES! NAMES! We need names...

LA: Not to be a name dropper, but......Heidi Klum, Jessica Alba, Victoria's Secret Angels, John Mayer, Beyonce, Leighton Meester, Vera Wang, Michael Kors, ummmm there's way more but I'm drawing a blank.

MG: What kind of donut are you?

LA: Donuts! I would have to be pink frosted. Girly and sweet. Although my dude recently pointed out that was Homer Simpson's fave which makes me reconsider.

One pink beauty...hold the Simpson!

MG: Lola...what do you recommend for anyone crashing a wedding in Vegas?

LA: Excellent question. A few things:

Act like you own the joint. Walk around like you know where you're going and you're supposed to be there. I do this always and manage to a. blend in to really fancy events that I am definitely NOT cool enough to be at but somehow fooled the right people and got invited to and b. get past security at hospitals, red carpet events, and college dorms (I used to enjoy pretending I was a "lost freshman." Don't ask).

Start convos with: Are you bride's side or groom's? So easy. You are obviously the opposite. And a date...of a distant cousin. When in doubt, just act drunk. Oh man, how did I end up here? Last thing I remember is kicking the dealer's ass at Poker!

MG: Final point on L.A. being “one giant movie set” – do you want a role in the new movie I am writing.

LA: I would be honored to be in your movie -- duh!

 (L to R: Lola's buddy Britt, Loni, and Heidi Klum)

Miss USA 2010 Rima Fakih to party with the Media Guy

Eva Longoria's Eve Nightclub presents
Femme Fatale
Friday, July 1st. Doors open at 10pm

The ALO Hayati magazine party hosted by ALO cover model Miss USA 2010 Rima Fakih

For more information or table reservations 702/227-3838.

A funny thing happened when I reached for my Armani suit...

That's so weird. I was going to celebrate the completion of my second screenplay yesterday with a few posts about various things, when I took a break for a quiet dinner with two buddies. One Stella led to another — as Stellas often do — and I woke up hours later in the Fox Studios lot. We all had How I Met Your Mother tattoos on our faces. Somehow I got Barney.

Not really, but I felt that way tonight during a massive case of writers block. I was searching for the right ad copy and the thought crossed my mind, “If you sell your soul to the devil, do you have to claim it on your taxes?” 

It’s an interesting idea because every time I reach for that Armani suit I bought in 1994, I say with a sigh, “What I wouldn’t do to fit back into this sucker again.” Which brings me to my joke of ironies…a funny thing happened to me on my way to looking great.

So, BAM, I get this email saying Ryan Murdock and Adam Steer are ready to save my fitness day. Even if you're not familiar with these two, you might have seen them around the internet firming up the earthly bodies of even the most desperate soul. Truth is these bodyweight experts have just the recipe to make you a superhero of sorts…or at least to make you look like one.

Tell me if any of this sounds familiar:

You’ve hauled ass at the gym and starved yourself on miserable diet plans, all for the sake of looking great. But you're frustrated because not a damned thing happened to your physique. Those granola and yogurt breakfasts and almond lunches only made your soft, unshapely body just plain hungry for change.

Why did every plan you tried fail you? Because most exercise and nutrition programs only focus on losing or gaining weight — not on changing your shape. “That means you either lose fat and muscle together, or you gain muscle and fat together,” says Murdock. “You wind up with the same soft physique. I wouldn't call it "shapeless", because it is a shape... big in all the wrong places and small in all the worst places!”

Murdock went on to tell me that the Shapeshifter P6 Training Elements solve this sad body dilemma by honing in on all six of the essential factors within exercise, nutrition and lifestyle. “Dialing all of them in simultaneously creates a surgical strike that re-shapes your body before your very eyes,” he concluded, “Putting on some muscle or tone in just the right places, and carving off fat in just the right places. But better get a good lawyer — that new hot body of yours might just cause someone whiplash...”

So while I focused on what my new “body redesign” would look like, I imagined if my new superhero girlfriend could measure up to some of the greatest of all time. Here’s my top five:

5. Famke Jannsen in X:2

4. Liv Tyler in The Incredible Hulk

3. Kirsten Dunst in Spiderman

2. Kim Basinger in Batman

1. Teri Hatcher in Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman

As I came back down to Earth and to reality, I knew I wouldn’t have to worry about selling my soul to get The Shapeshifter’s free Launchpad program (http://tinyurl.com/3lzxpvc). Who knows, Famke could be waiting around the corner in just six days.

Greatest American Zero

Dateline: LOS ANGELES

August 1990

Way back in my old agency days I sat down in my office overlooking the multimillion dollar south of the boulevard homes and the phone rings. It’s a buddy of mine that works for Good Housekeeping and she needs me to be the handler for Connie Sellecca for her November 1990 cover shoot. I said “Really? How does this work? Why me?” She said, “I don’t know, she called, she found you. She heard good things about the way you handled the Brooke Burke M&Ms incident.”

There’s only one problem. In order to take this plum, pro bono assignment, I had to cancel as the plus one at a dinner with my then girlfriend (who shall remain nameless). Now for those of you too young to remember, Ms. Sellecca was the “it” woman on prime time television just finishing 10 years on two hit ABC shows, Hotel and The Greatest American Hero. Needless to say, I wasn't turning down being her Boy Friday. After some haggling with the soon-to-be-ex, I was in.

So there I was at the photo shoot cracking jokes with Connie’s publicist and her stylist and generally we had a great time. So at the conclusion of the shoot when the photographer called it a wrap, everyone gathered around hugging it out. Everyone but me. I mean I was the only newbie on set, how could I? I didn’t want to come off as creepy office guy who grabs a grope. Besides, who knew where the spies were that the soon-to-be-ex might have planted. I took the safe road. I executed a perfect high five then made sure the Lincoln Town Car delivered her home safely. Sadly, we parted ways.

The next day, I’m back in my office and there’s a giant arrangement of orchids waiting for me on my desk. The note read, “Thank you for a charming day. XO Connie (213) XXX-7761.” The flowers came with the 10 digits, so I gave her a call and said “Miss Sellecca, I got your flowers. Thanks!” She replies, “What a day yesterday, thanks again. I’m looking at the photos yesterday right now. You even took a good one, and call me Connie.” I was definitely excited about the whole “Call me Connie” thing, but since I was still committed to the soon-to-be-ex, I quickly ended the call so it wouldn’t get serious. Geez, I thought highly of myself back then.

So the next day I get back to my agency desk and there is Chia Pet with a note that says “Call me, luv Connie.” So I do and during the quick conversation I said thanks again for a great time and reminded her I was with the soon-to-be-ex and she was married to Buck Rogers! She seemed disinterested at best, but I didn’t notice.

On the third day I arrived to the agency and there’s a fanny pack on my desk with a $20 in it with a note clipped to it saying “Jump in the first cab and meet me.”

So my office mate Lisa Goldstein tells me, “You better call her and set her straight. She's going to ruin your relationship with [name omitted] and you’re going to be a massive home wrecker yourself. This girl is out of control.” I said there’s no way the statuesque Connie Sellecca wants me? No way.

The final day I show up and there’s a small hat box on my desk. Open it up and there is a pair of La Perla intimates with a hint of allure and no price tag on them. Yep, there was a note in there as well. “I need you right now.” So Lisa urges me to call again. “Straighten her out RIGHT NOW as only you can. You have to lay down the law. Show her who’s boss and make sure she gets the message this time.”

By this time Lisa has whipped me into a frenzy, so I pick up the phone and call. She interrupted me before I could get too far, “Hey Michael, I’m with some friends running dialogue. Can I call you later?”

I said, “Run this dialogue past your friends – ‘this has got to end, and now. From the last four days, I can see you got it bad for the Media Guy. All these gifts have to end. Sending those panties was the final straw.'”

She was incredulous, saying that “WHAT PANTIES? Have you lost your mind?”

“Have I lost my mind? You’re the one sending the unmentionables…”

Just then I glanced up and there the entire office was capturing it all on videotape. It was a big slice of humble pie explaining what had happened as she laughed about her publicist sending the original flowers and Lisa falling down laughing, claiming she sent the rest.

I couldn’t have been Punk’d better by Ashton Kutcher himself. Years later I wondered if this practical joke had anything to do with her having no sex for over two years with John Tesh until their wedding night. Later I found out she was fond of playing practical jokes. In fact, then-husband Gil Gerard got so used to coming home and finding her lying in a pool of fake blood, he developed a scoring system for her. Who knew?

I heard that David Letterman or Jimmy Kimmel pulled the same thing that Lisa did years later. Yes, the Media Guy and his team were always trendsetters.

R.I.P. Macho Man

Back in 1988 I was a kid. Barely 20, but already leading major accounts in the marketing battlegrounds.

Guilty pleasures back then weren't sneaking in some KC and the Sunshine Band or Go-Go's songs, it was professional wrestling. My buddies would gather and we would watch the Hulkster, Andre the Giant, Superfly Snuka, and the "Macho Man" Randy Savage.

Savage was the bearded lunatic with the gorgeous valet Miss Elizabeth who captivated the booger-eaters who thought this was all real. He had a presence that sold millions of pay-per-views at $39.99 a pop. 

Yes, Vince McMahan was right, the whole world was watching.

Today when he died at 58, so young like many of his contemporaries. The Macho Man lives on with a mystical slow-motion flying elbow on homage to my first real insight on consumer media. A moment of silence for Randy Savage.

Do yourself a favor and read ESPN's Bill Simmons' eulogy to the Macho Man.

RIP Randy Savage...Oh yeah!

Driving in LA

Traffic, traffic, traffic. It gives you a lot of time to think, rant and reflect.

Is this the price we pay for good weather?  Do we have to be depressed every quarter mile? Hello Mayor Villaraigosa…I can’t go for any stretch of a drive without seeing graffiti, barbed wire, trash, a hobo or a sign that says “hey, if you’re going to flush your kid away, drop him off at the fire house.” If Lucy saw all this when she hit town in 1955, she would have bugged Ricky to leave as soon as Bill Holden’s kiss dried up.

Speaking of gloomy, what’s the most depressing fast food restaurant there is? Is it H. Salt Fish and Chips? There is no franchise with less curb appeal than H.Salt. That old time look with crisscross lattice on the windows and newspaper/wallpaper inside. All of them need a facelift. Worse are when restaurants meet their demise and the clearly franchised architecture becomes something else. Nothing drags you down like seeing the Taco Bell mission or that weird blue crowned IHOP roof or a giant Der Wienerschnitzel dog house as a chiropractor or some 97 Cents store. It all leaves you wondering what they did with the bell in the hole of the marquee.

But we all know what spelled their downfall. It’s the evil food executives. Imagine them sitting around asking “how can we make people fatter?” Can you see the brainstorming meeting? Around the room they go:

Exec #1: Don’t look at me. I came up with the deep fried Oreo deluxe pancakes. Remember that?

Exec #2: Oh yeah, you got a nice bonus that year. You’ve been riding that success for 24 months. Time for something new.

Exec #1: How about we take a taco and put a burrito around it with a thick layer of cheese in between the two and we deep fry it in some supposedly non-trans fat oil?

Exec #2: Now you’re talking.

And what’s the deal with Coke vs. Pepsi. Can’t we find a common ground? Why can’t we have a choice? You go into a restaurant and I get a Stella, you can get a Bud Light and she can get a Guinness. But goodness gracious sakes alive if you want a specific cola. How many times have you been out and you order a Coke and they ask, “is Pepsi alright?” You know what? It’s rarely ok. Why can’t they pour Pepsi and Coke? Let the managers figure it out. They have enough spickets at the fountain and everything else under the sun. Get rid of the Poweraid or one of the Fanta flavors. Give us a choice between Coke or Pepsi and let the best cola win, like old time hockey, let’s settle this over ice.

I was out with a colleague recently and I, uh, dislike Pepsi – unless they are offering me a plum marketing gig – and they served me a Pepsi after I ordered a Coke. Ugh, I could taste it. There’s a firm rule in the Media Guy’s household: no Pepsi shall pass my palette. I literally spit it out…right in my colleague’s face.

Him: “WHAT HAPPENED”

Me: “This isn’t Coke!”

Him: “What? You couldn’t swallow it?!”

Me: “Not on your life. Call a doctor!”

As I’ve said before, I know nothing about music, but these Timeless Tunes have to go. The Playlist from hell has Eurythmics’ Sweet Dreams (those two dudes bother me still), Joan Jett’s I Love Rock and Roll (three chords of death) and Tears for Fears’ Shout (this is the song I can do without). Enough already.

My final tip of the day goes something like this…Every job has something that requires a little work. I don’t care if you are a roller coaster tester or a cookie taster for Mrs. Field’s, there is always something that’s a little nuts and bolts. A grind if you will where there’s some clerical junk where you have to be specific and take good notes or craft a great communiqué. I find that people who are attracted to creative professions, i.e., the “Creatives”, don’t really like the nuts and bolts part. They like the fun parts. Graphic designers always like to ignore the fine points of copy; butchered headlines like this:

No lattes fees

This bank may have wonderful free coffee, but I’m watching out for the late fees

In a prefect world, you are always professional.

Nobody's 'prefect', I guess.

Don't Pay To Much

Even ads for mobile homes deserve to be right.

You know what I say when I see this? I say, “stop seeing things through the prism of your creative eye and ignoring the details that are lined up for you. I want your creative meshed with my creative to deliver brilliance. Don’t you?”

Pay attention to details people and teach your kids to do the same.

Geez. I’ve only gone eight miles in 35 minutes.

NEXT TIME: I’ll tell you the story how a good friend convinced me that actress Connie Sellecca was in love with me after a red carpet event in 1990.

The Borgia Pope Redefines Geography!