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Hana Haley

Gold Roll (CA)


 I’ve decided to wear a beret— LA is freakishly freezing. I’m invited to a party at a roller rink but I arrive too late for entry, so I linger in the parking lot and wait to see who comes out the rainbow doors of Moonlight Rollerway. Streams of giddy skaters flow out in herds at exactly 11:00 pm. My friend Kera smiles ear to ear alongside their stylish friends. I am offered a joint and a ride to a nearby bar. I accept and wrap my arm around a boy in the backseat of a crowded car. Arrived, I order a gimlet and begin to sway to the Rolling Stones set. The group I sit with is tender-hearted and well-dressed, claiming “I feel like we’ve met before, maybe we haven’t, but you have that kind of vibe. We know each other.” 

The next morning, Giselle surprises me with an 8AM trip to a 50s diner. There is nearly nothing I want to eat but our waitress reminds me of a comic book waitress so I order hashbrowns and tomato slices from her. We walk to the Santa Monica pier where we witness dalmatians, beach tractors, homeless encampments. The sun is sparkling in shards of precise California light. I pick up purple oyster shells and realize how easy it is to fall in love with everything (yet again).

The trees are violently in bloom with blossoms gory pink when I meet my San Francisco beauty Brodie Jenkins. We migrate to a nearby brunch spot (our little ritual) late in the afternoon. Vegan horchata and pesto rice bowls are devoured alongside deep conversation. I give Brodie a sappy card and she teaches me how to sensually wipe away stray lipstick. My girrrl. 

I take a car to Timothy’s who has already got her makeup on. She lets me borrow her red kimono for the premiere party later that night. Preparatory hours pass and at 8:30 p.m. we are posing together in front of our makeshift photo booth and I learn to never underestimate $3 wrapping paper as a backdrop. Doughnuts and margaritas decorate our corner of the bar alongside models and singers. When our video comes on, two blondes instantaneously being making out. I am proud  (also barefoot in the bar and slightly disgusted.)