When I was little I had a reoccurring fantasy about a babysitter. Before you let all your guy friends know it’s time to frequent A Gold Noise lemme clarify it’s not that kind of fantasy. Somewhere between my early discovery of Seventeen magazine and Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead I dreamed of going on an awe-inspiring, fashionable voyage with a bad-ass teenager.

Tell me you’ve been there! Six to eleven years old all I could wonder is, “what will I look like when I’m a teen?” When will my curves come, when will the boys knock down my door, when will I too be old enough to babysit? Until then it was a dream to have an older, stunning girl show me the ropes of growing up.

My sister Dawny was pretty darn close to my ideal only falling short in moving out when I was so young. But when she lived with us she was my perfection. She scurried around in the hippest of 80’s fashions, switching from straight out of a music video to gorgeous blonde cheerleader. She’d crimp my hair and I’d peek out the window and watch her wait for her Ken doll to pick her up.

As wonderful as it is to become an independent, accomplished adult, the whole discovery of what it is to be a carefree girl was inexhaustibly fun. I spent countless hours in my pink bedroom staring at my face and simply picturing it bigger and with makeup; what else could the future bring? I puppeteered my prettiest dolls to live out my ideal of a teen’s life. They dated imaginary cute boys and were beloved and envied by all the imaginary popular girls.

My teen years proved to be a universe away from any of my ideals- no boys, shabby fashion sense, and prototypical theater nerd- but, hey, it was fun to fantasize all the same… <3

Here’s some chicks, looking hot at school.

Dazed and Confused

“Maybe the 80s will be like radical or something. I figure we’ll be in our 20s and it cant’ get worse.” 

10 Things I Hate About You

“Am I that transparent? I want you, I *need* you, oh baby, oh baby.”

Donnie Darko

“Donnie Darko? What the hell kind of name is that? It’s like some sort of superhero or something.”

Practical Magic

“Hold on to your husbands, girls.”

Mean Girls

“Did you have an awesome time? Did you drink awesome shooters, listen to awesome music, and then just sit around and soak up each others awesomeness? ”

Welcome to the Dollhouse

“Hey Dawn, sorry to bother you, but we were just wondering… Are you a lesbian?”

The Virgin Suicides

“She was the still point of the turning world, man.”

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

 ” We made a deal when I was seven and a half and night life was The Muppet Show!”

And OF COURSE,

Clueless

“Okay, so you’re probably going, “Is this like a Noxzema commercial or what?” But seriously, I actually have a way normal life for a teenage girl. “

“Perla the Paramount Socialite”

Of all of my friends, I think she would be the most likely to be found an undercover super-hero. I can see, for a moment she is knocked out by the insane rapist and crack slinger she was chasing for the FBI. The feds catch up to the mysterious hero, dressed in a flowing blouse, tweed skirt, classy vest, and thigh high leather Prada boots. Her skin-tight mask crafted from paisley fabric is slowly pulled back to reveal…Perla! Upon reading the discovery on msn.com, I would take another swig of my Starbucks and shrug, “That figures.”

 My Perla is as mysterious and lovely a discovery as a true pearl. At first glance, one may think they have taken it all in. “Ah yes, there is a beautiful shell, I see.” Short, pure black hair, outstanding cheekbones, lovely eyes with spider-like lashes, and a slender tall figure covered in porcelain skin. However, for those fortunate enough, she’ll open up that surface to reveal none other than an iridescent interior: a true gem.

 I first met the girl at church. She looked at me with intense eyes, as she usually does, to the extent that I expected a stunning revelation to flow from her lips. Instead, “We should meet for coffee sometime soon.” We exchanged numbers and shortly thereafter were sitting across from each other with lattes.

 I didn’t expect it at the time, but Perla entered my life at the perfect moment. She mentioned, in passing that her mom’s home had an extra room I would be welcome to live in. I smiled but said I had Courtney. Days later, Courtney was engaged and I was calling Perla, “Yeah, about that room?” A mere month later, my Ikea was stationed in this stranger’s home. I lay on my bed, staring into the ceiling until knocks rapped on my door. Perla stood on the other side, all made up, drinking diet from a straw, “Come dancing!”

 ”Right now?”

 A shrug, “Yeah. Get dressed!” I hurried myself and in ten minutes we were sitting in back of her friend’s truck with music blasting. I still get nervous when I’m in crowds of strangers, but she grabbed my hands with a smile and dragged me onto the dance floor when we arrived.

 In my heart, there was a huge sadness. Court and I were a team, “The Dynamic Duo” and I just wasn’t sure I could go on without her with the same confidence and happiness I had before. However, for a second, as Perla spun around with all her dancing skill I thought, “Ok…I can do this.” No, not dance as amazing as Perla, not at all. But, continue on in this city, with joy, yes.

I couldn’t have suspected it then, but I remained in Perla’s house for 11 months. I wasn’t sure why life was seemingly moving along so slowly, but now with my bird’s eye view, I know why I was there. Perla taught me so much that I can’t thank her enough for.

Perla at home.

First of all, no matter how afraid, always exercise spontaneity. Oh, you’re sleeping? Too bad, get up and go have fun. Oh, you’re sad? That sucks. Go eat tacos…in Mexico. Don’t worry, Perla is fluent and from the place, so go ride the bull, who cares?

 Secondly, always help a friend, or complete stranger, in need. If your friend is in a crack house, go bring her roses, treat her to Mel’s Diner, and see if she wants to talk. You see a bum? See if she needs to talk too. If Brenda spies Gisele checking out at Whole Foods, don’t hesitate to run up and try to get her number and another personal assistant job for her.

 Thirdly, make it clear that no one needs drugs or obscene amounts of alcohol to have fun. To prove it, throw constant theme parties such as “The Yellow Party”, “Classy Wine & Cheese Party”, a “Pirate Party”, or whatever you can dream up on a whim.

 Fourthly, know what you’re worth. I remember arriving home from a date with yet another low-class dude. I was discouraged and felt like such an idiot for acting so under my level all the time. I dejectedly shut my car door, and looked up in surprise at the roof of our shed. Erected upon it was a camping tent. Laughter and music sounded from inside of it. A smile spread on my face; it was none other than Perla and her boyfriend camped out, on a shed roof, near Compton. I remembered something I’d heard escaping her lips that morning, “I really wanna go camping with Steve, but he’s too busy to leave LA for a while.”

 Regardless, camping they went.

 She showed, by example, what a girl is worth all the time. And when it got personal, she would simply say, “So don’t call that guy. He’s a jerk.” She always made things just as easily said as done for me.

 After those 11 months, I moved to New York for a summer, then to Newport, now to West Hollywood, and I still miss the sounds of her tiny keyboard and stunning voice coming from the backyard as she scribbles lyrics into a notebook.

 Thankfully, we remain close and I still get brand new glimpses into the array of colors that shine off that iridescent pearl all the time. So, to a girl that taught me so much, and who is a truly unique spirit and leader:

Ode to Perla, the paramount socialite.

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