I was at a party in Sunset Plaza recently where a woman walked over to me and accused: "Could you leave some for the rest of us?"
T-shirts $2. Jeans $7. Handwritten signs point to bargains galore at the National Council of Jewish Women/Los Angeles (NCJW/LA) Council Thrift Shop.
A California gal for most of my life, I endured jabs and digs about the dearth of culture and the abundance of silicone in our fair city during my two-year stint in New York. (I am neither blessed with blond hair nor an 18-inch Malibu Barbie waistline, nevertheless my East Coast friends had many a laugh at the expense of my geography.)
It was on a weekend ski trip to Vermont that I got to wave my California banner with pride.