Our lap of luxury occurred on our one-way flight from PDX to LAX. That's it. For all intensive purposes, it would be bed sharing, fast food, no food, no showers, dirty underwear (and we're not being kinky), lots of sweat, lots of smells, getting lost, losing time, losing sleep, and losing shit... and in the grand scheme of things, thats still pretty damn luxurious.
After contacting every single person I knew in LA to see if anyone knew someone, that potentially knew another someone, that had a recommendation for yet another someone with a 60s/70s LA style home, car or even an exterior of a building to shoot against, we finally arrived upon Honor Hamilton. Honor— a wardrobe stylist homegrown in Los Angeles and named after Bond Girl Honor Blackman from the legendary, Goldfinger, enchanted us with her 1970's Rambler styled home, completely restored to its original 1970s motif... but way, way, cooler.
How do you NOT have a blast in a home with such fervent character? A pool, shag carpet, hanging macramé chairs, and an old white El Camino! Fine. Luxury is still living gracefully in our sojourned laps and I'm still certain to take my multivitamins daily.