Adieu, Santa Monica

So I am back in the Palm Dessert. Sigh. My parents are excited - "It's much more laid back and casual here!" "...and easier to drive!" - but I'm forlorn: I think I could live quite happily in [parts] of L.A.. I can't imagine I would be able to ever afford to live in Santa Monica or Venice, but a girl can dream. And dream I will.

But, for now, reality. I promised you gazpatcho and gazpatcho I shall deliver.

I stumbled across the recipe on Pink Parsley, a favourite blog of the PBRunner, and, with the help of my uncle and my mother's amazing Vitamix blender (but, as she would say, you can't describe it as a blender - it's a class of its own. Seriously, if I kept the thing running longer, it would cook the gazpatcho into tomato soup...).

The recipe was followed exactly, save the addition of cilantro, which my uncle insisted upon.

 So after letting it sit for a day - to better let the flavours mingle - we had it for lunch with some beautiful sandwiches.

And, lovely as this soup may look, it was fated for the garbarator. The red onion I had used, which I vaguely recall my mother exclaiming upon purchase "God that's a big red onion - you probably don't want to use all of that..." was overpowering. And red onion is a taste I have very gradually warmed up to, so having strong and acidic red onion flavour dominating was truly disappointing. Hopefully Chopper didn't make my mistake...
 
On a more inquisitive and excitingly sartorial note, I'd love some feedback for a look I rocked my last night out in L.A., to the very posh Boa Steakhouse on the Santa Monica waterfront.

Jean Jacket Colin's | Top Free People | Skort Free People | Purse George Gina & Lucy | Belt Wilfred

 The top and shorts were L.A. acquisitions, and when we bought them, my mum assured the girl at the register "Don't worry, she's not going to wear them together." Oh - but she did. Not my dream way of rocking the skort - I am thinking some bad ass boots or rock-n-roll heels, like these from Sam Edelman (drooldrooldrool), plus a white sleeveless dress shirt in a drapey, transparent fabric, with either a leather vest or a structured overlong blazer. That said, is this really too much animal print?? How would you rock those shorts, and should I be afraid to show my face at boa on our return trip next week?

Let us not say good bye, but, as the French have it, Adieu, Santa Monica