Aaand we’re back. Blog and geographically speaking. After flying south for the winter, HOJB has torn through Miami like a haute hurricane, leaving glitzy shambles in its wake. Been there, done that, and comin’ home to mama: New York City.
We’ll wrap up the Art Basel trip first.
I know, I know, you want more fashion show pictures.
The night had called for celebration, hinted at Mokai, and could be best described by this picture:
This was one of the live artists at our show earlier that night. She was Loving her bikini, to say the absolute least.
We met two very special people at Mokai:
After throwin’ some bows, Jackie and Emily made their way up to her table.
“You can’t be at this table.”
“No its ok!”
“You can’t be here.”
“Paris said it’s ok!”
She was slipped a card that she, herself, had inspired (or was at least told that) and was informed that anything on the website could be hers.
While the girls were doing that, Gia and I were simultaneously meeting him:
Status: “Richest Blackest Mother Fucker in this place!”
Unfortunately, we didn’t meet him dressed as such. He was actually in some pretty dope suspenders with some fly blonde lady arm candy. They struck up conversation at the bar. After explaining what we were doing down in Miami, we mentioned we were somewhat homeless at that time (between a hotel stay and a friends couch with limited funds). He told us he knew what it was like to be hungry. To not know where you’re going to end up next. Then he invited us to stay with him for a couple nights.
Us four got in touch with him the next day and accepted his offer.
He answered the door as pictured above.
Probably one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met with one of the most... distinct... senses of humor. Ordered us mad Chinese food. Let us shower up and get ready in his two spare rooms. Being a contractor he had some siiick interior deco going on. And his whole house was run by one remote control. Whaaaaa.
Also, a most excited high five to whoever invited Mom to the impromptu booty shaking contest at Purdy Lounge later that week.
50 yrs. old can't stop won't stop.
Alcohol + friend's ma + his boys struggling to keep her covered = free bikini for the lady.
A few more quintessential South Beach doozies and we'll call it a night. Until next time...