3:19 p.m.: DJ Vashtie starts spinning. I roll over to snap her. “They imported you from New York?” she says.
3:24 p.m.: “How about over there on the swan?” I direct Lizzy Plapinger. She’s a good sport and obliges. She sits in the swan-shaped paddle boat and floats out to the middle of the pond. The light is just right to make the ideal photograph.
4:20 p.m.: Echosmith hits the stage.
6:35 p.m.: “What a sweetie,” I think as I arrive and Bella Thorne kisses me hello.
7:12 p.m.: Haim sisters posing boringly for Getty. “Whoop it up,” I scream. Finally, they start dancing and I get something more fun.
10:43 a.m.: Collecting wristbands is like collecting badges of honor at Coachella.
11:17 a.m.: “So what goes on here at Shopstyle villa?” I inquire. “What do you mean?” two ladies surrounded by flowers say. “Do people shop here?” “We are actually making fresh flower crowns for the guests as they arrive.” Aw.
11:39 a.m.: “It’s sooo hot and sweaty,” Zoe Kravitz says, fanning herself with her hands as she does her mandatory photo op. Someone makes a joke and she throws her head back and cracks up, revealing her gold tooth. I never noticed that. In fact, I’ve never seen her even crack a smile.
12:48 p.m.: What’s a pool party without some synchronized swimmers? And it makes for amazing photographs as well.
1:55 p.m.: Baby with headphones. Adorable! At lease these parents have some brains.
3:21 p.m.: “All my friends are models” is written across the top of a Kissing Booth. “So people will come in here and you will kiss them and take photos??” The model attendants reply, “You gotta be careful…keep it PG.”
3:44 p.m.: “Hiiii,” Rachel Zoe welcomes me to her party. “I’m not officially at Coachella. People keep asking me but I’m not going to the festival. I need to be home with the babies.” Now, that actually makes a lot of sense. I respect that!
6:24 p.m.: Dejected, I go back to my car, put the key in and start it up, then I think to myself: “I have been to over 50 Grateful Dead shows, most of which I arrived at without tickets, and I managed to get into almost all of them.” I go into MacGyver mode. I break part of the yellow clasp open, but now it’s damaged. I decide to go back to the girls and show them what it looks like inside as it may help them. Just then, they get theirs loose using the another method. “Let’s just stick yours together and we will all go in together,” they tell me. I put the wristband on. They use some eyelash glue to reattach my clasp. I hide the broken plastic part under some other wristbands. Heart pounding as we make our way to the gate. It’s a long walk, and I’m visualizing getting in, but fear getting caught.
7:14 p.m.: Into the rave tent!!! I should get a ticket for doing 50 years old in a 20-year-old zone.
9:17 p.m.: Headliner Jack White hits the main stage! “Hotel Yorba!” I’m rocking out!
11:33 p.m.: Teddy bear chair, oversize coke cans, everyone dressed to the nines. It must be a Moschino party.
11:44 p.m.: “Say ‘no’ to crack,” I say to the guy with the Moschino underwear.
11:45 p.m.: “Your show is my favorite of fashion week,” I tell Jeremy Scott as I take his picture. And it is!
1:55 a.m.: FKA Twigs pulls her lace top over her face as I try to get a snap of her and Robert Pattinson. Good thing my flash is so powerful I can see her face anyway, ha!