Except for coming to and finding myself naked and prone on the floor of a Korean sauna, pretty much everything about my second day of LA fashion week was better than the first. I'd spent the morning sending out emails and rushed off to my appointment without eating breakfast. Big mistake. I got out of the jacuzzi, felt a bit light-headed and the next thing I knew I was staring up at the ceiling like Gulliver while a cluster of Liliputian-like Korean ladies looked down at me with great concern. (They were probably worried about how they'd haul my 5'11" body out of there if I didn't recover.)

After my appointment, I dressed and rushed off to Smashbox Studios, where the LA shows are held. I arrived just in time to grab a half a sandwich (they only sold halves -- so LA!), some chips and a chocolate-chip cookie as big as my head before taking my seat in the front row of the Monarchy show. Cassandra was hung up in a casting and couldn't make it, but Allison at IMG had pre-arranged my ticket for this one. The wardrobe consultant sitting next to me said, "they're really nice to let you eat that in here." I said, "I pity the guard to tries to come between me and this cookie." But the guys who take those sweeping videos of the front row and the two tiny anonymous celebrities on the other side of me didn't look so amused.

Moments before show-time, a fierce LA publicist said to the three people on my left, "I know who you are, but you're not Luis Barajas, you have to move. Now." I didn't know who the expelled were but I didn't know who Luis was either. Neither did the small Asian girl who took the seat on my right. (Front row seats change frequently here -- she had to kick out a glamazon blond from her seat who had taken the space of the starlets. And the giant took the goody bag when she left and wouldn't give it back. Nice!) When Luis arrived, I saw he was a very large guy with chunky jewelry and white Louis Vuitton logo loafers. A peroxide blond in a micro-mini promptly deposited herself on his lap. Luis's companions cheered the Monarchy show the way one would cheer a basketball game. "YO! Great Jacket!," they yelled pumping fists and clapping hands. Afterwards, Luis turned to me and said, "I thought that was a great show. Really pulled together." He was right. It was far more professional than the other two shows I'd seen in my brief LA fashion week experience. When I asked him what he did, he said he ran a modeling agency. "That fits," I thought. Later I learned he was the founder of Flaunt magazine, a project he launched with one of of the guys I've known longest in this business, Long Nguyen. (Sorry, not photos due to battery failure. I'll see if I can get some from the Monarcy PR and add them later.)

After the show I hit the phones, determined to take charge of our second night in LA. Thanks to Monica Corocoran, another old work friend, we landed two invites for a reception at the Mayor's house.

Cassandra had come by to pick me up and I had promptly re-dressed her in all of my clothes. That's her in my Issa dress above. Monica works for the LA Times (who co-sponsored the party) and although she says she writes about culture, some of the topics she covers overlaps with mine, so frequent readers of Fashion Inc. may want to bookmark her blog to fill the forthcoming void in their online reading material.

The party at the Mayor's house was more along the lines I had been expecting. Like, for one thing, there was food.

There was also the most beautiful DJ stand I have ever seen.

And there were also people I knew like Julie Gilhart from Barney's and Booth Moore from the LA Times, both of whom had been on the show circuit with me and were looking slightly stunned.

The party was in aid of Earth Pledge's Future Fashion and featured some stunning clothes designed in eco-friendly fabrics by designers like Trina Turk and Bahar Shahpar. (Again, photos when they are released.)

We managed to get Cassandra in for a photo-op. Apparently there's no point in attending a party in LA unless you have a photo taken by the big agencies. She also was asked to do a TV interview for a channel in India. ("They love me in India," she said. "I have no idea why.")

Afterwards it all got silly again. I'd tried to get us tickets to a party for Chris Benz at Brett Ratner's house but it was too late. Cassandra was in charge. Dressed in a skirt I bought in Paris, Cassandra took me to the after-party of a show we didn't attend (I can't even remember the name), where met a friendly rapper named Sha.

Then we went to the Monarchy after-party and met the designer Eric Kim. I also saw the nice girl who had her goody bag stolen at the show. (I then stole one from the glamazon's friend and gave it to her on the way out.) I can't remember her name, but I remember her job. She did marketing analytics for Sony. I said, "that sounds like a job which requires Excel." She said, "I love Excel!," in a way that sounded like she really meant it.

That's it for LA. And I'm off the rest of the week working on my book. I'll be taking special requests when I'm back so if you have any topics you'd like me to cover or any questions you have, post them in the comments or email me at: LGoldsteinCrowe@gmail.com