Newly single and ready to mingle, it's no big surprise that Britney Spears has been frequenting the typical LA celeb cesspools like Hyde, Teddy's and Area the past few months, but it looks like now the popstress is hanging (and lettin' it all hang out) where she'll be blindly worshiped no matter what tragic fashion choices she makes.

Our pals over gayfest Tigerheat, Thursdays at Arena on Santa Monica Blvd.--- [UPDATE: NOW AT AVALON] tell us Ms. Spears caused quite a commotion at the club last week. The club is a celebration all things pop/Top 40, and along with one name divas like Christina, Janet and Beyonce, Brit's music reigns here.

Though there is a separate VIP lounge, our Tiger peeps tell us she preferred to revel in the love of the "normal" folk by repeatedly walking through the main dance room with bodyguards in tow. You may have heard that one overzealous femme-bot got a little too close and got shot with a taser gun. Well, it's true, but we hear the fans weren't the only ones who were man-handled a little too harshly. Even the owner's boyfriend fell victim to the rough ways of Spears' burly boys.

Other Brit tidbits: "Her boots were hideous!" … "She looked bloated, I didn't even think it was really her!"… "Bad extensions"… Okay, maybe we wrong about the gays' blind worship, huh?

B also visited We Ho wonderland the Abbey the next night, and just this week, Hamburger Mary's…

Love the trashy-fashion lovin' pop tart or just love to diss her? Either way y'all might get a chance to see her in the flesh this eve. Our sources say, she mentioned returning to the 'Heat tonight.

Also, we can't let a Spears item go by on the Style Council without weighing in on her clothing ensembles as of late. As a fellow new mama, I'm particularly opinionated about what looks good and what doesn't post-pregnancy.

I wont jump on the "bad mom" bandwagon regarding whether or not Britney should be going out so much. I don't think you lose your desire to have fun when you become a mom. She might be overdoing it, but who am I to say? It's more about how you carry yourself.

Look for a blog item from me soon with hot mom style rules, but for now here's three Brit has definitely broken.

1. Accentuate your newly ample bossoms but don't let 'em pop out of your top.
2. Wear hair in a natural looking, casual style like a ponytail. Changing hormones levels make it extra fragile so don't do too much with it. Over-dyeing and extensions are a no-no right now.
3. Panty-lines are a bitch, but wear undies, especially post-preggo. Stuff is still going on down there that nobody wants to see.

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Apparently the newest accessory this season, is a tail. No, not that strand of hair you kept growing despite haircuts. I was speaking to a member of an artist collective in Venice, who says he and his pals are getting a lot of attention for wearing tails in public. What do they look like? Lions tails, dog tails, you name it. We all had tails at one point, I offered. "Yeah," he said. "And we found ours again." The group is hard at work filming a documentary about wearing tails in public. As soon as they get a break, we'll have more on this subject...

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I discovered a way around iTunes Music Store's 60s second samples— youtube. Yep, when you have the audial craving for a song— the whole song, you can just search it on youtube. While you may not find everything, it's amazing the videos you can unearth. It's like MTV circa Thriller. For example, I've had the song The Warrior by Scandal stuck in my head for the last three days, so I typed the song into youtube just now, and I found a gem of a video I just had to share. Here it is, the entire video for The Warrior....click here
Watch it. Seriously, I don't even know what to say, I'm not sure if it's genious or if I'm having a ketamine flashback— the costumes, the...the hair, the make-up, the intense choreography...the budget! This is why we need to stop wearing 80s fashion, so that this will have the same visual impact on our children. They've been called a "Tasmanian emo/punk band." I call them awesome. Stereo jungle child...

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Ok, so I guess I'm supposed to comment on who wore what, if they looked good or not, yada yada... since this is a style blog. But I was so pissed off all week that my inbox was being violated with emails from publicists who thought I gave a shit that Gabrielle Union selected a Jay Godfrey gown. Who the hell is Gabrielle Union? It started with the Golden Globes suites, also known as the place where they give out free shit to actors who have plenty of money to buy their own shit. Personally, I'd be embarassed. Emails announced Kevin Dillon, Terrence Howard and Richard Lewis made good with the goods. I kept picturing a scene from last season's Sopranos, where Christopha' goes to LA, makes it to the gifting suite with Sir Ben Kingsley and winds up robbing a gift basket from Lauren Becall. If only...

Do you care that Sienna Miller "loaded up" on L'Oreal mascara? or about this tidbit:

"And it was a family affair when Patricia and Rosanna Arquette both popped in to the Ladies Lounge on multiple occasions for touchups by L'Oreal Paris' top makeup artists. The sisters got their pouty lips glossed while brother David Arquette averted a fashion emergency by sending in one of the girls to pick up Fashion Tape to fix a tuxedo faux pas."

Me neither. It put me off. But now I must talk clothes because People magazine can't have the final word. I looked through the magazine's selection of Best and Worst dressed. Dear god, there should be a few out of work stylists out there today. There were so many bad dresses my eyes hurt.

Jennifer Lopez: She looks like she pulled a Scarlet O'Hara and wore the drapes.

Cate Blanchet: Notes on a Fashion Scandal. She looks like a virgin touched for the very first time. Where's the boy toy belt?

Patricia Arquette: should have worried less about the lipgloss. were do you even find a dress like this?

Beyonce: Jay-Z-sus! Girl, I really didn't know you could get down like that. This isn't the Grammys child. But you did bring new meaning to "Golden Globes."

Hillary Swank: Clearly, she was regifted.

America Ferrera: God Bless America, and I know you all are going to hate me for saying this but...this dress is Ugly Betty. blech! Come on now! Who did this?! Is she a 50 year old mother of the bride?! It's frumpy and old. You get a chance to take off the glasses and the braces and this? This is what you came up with? She's a pretty girl, but this dress is horrid.

Photos: People.com

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I heard from a Smashbox freelancer yesterday that traipsing back and forth through leaky tents in Culver City may be a thing of the past. Smashbox merged with Quixote studios and plans are being made to host this upcoming LA Fashion Week in March in the massive soundstages on the Quixote lot near Fuller. LA Fashion moving closer to Hollywood? in movie sound stages? This sounds like an answer to my prayers. Last Fashion Week I complained, must the show go on at Smashbox? It appears, the answer is no. Will the move mean splashier shows, more art, less commerce? It will remain to be seen...

Posted by Linda Immediato

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I had my ass seriously Spankrocked afterhours at the Echo on Friday night, and it hurt pretty good.

We were forced to stand outside for an hour in the nasty cold winds because some monkey at the Echo had forgotten to print the will-call list. But it was worth the hypothermia just for the serious butt-shakin that later ensued.

They went on stage at around 2AM-ish, having just come from playing the Jimmy Kimmel show. Kids in the UK are already freaking out over Spank Rock - a write up in the London Guardian advised: "Children, if you want Dad to think you're on drugs, play this loud... Genius to the power of 32,186."

Let's round that up to a nice 32,190, OK?

http://www.myspace.com/spankrock

Spankrock and XXXchange photo by Mike W. visualdiction.com

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The email yesterday read, "Who wants to go see INIFINTY, a mustachioed female-fronted Journey cover band tonight?" My response, "You had me at mustachioed." A co-worker overhearing me extend the invitation called out, "when did everyone decide Journey is cool again?" Just as I was thinking of informing her Journey never stopped being cool, I was interrupted by the co-worker my invitation was meant for, "Journey was never cool," he said. And, he's right. Journey was never about being cool. Journey was about expressing deep emotions. Journey wasn't really about "stadium rock", it was emo with guitar solos and a singer with a high pitched pained wail, it was about— the power ballad.

And so we went to see Infinity at Spaceland, doing covers of a band whose songs of loss knew no bounds. They sang of homesickness like a lover lost at sea— they sang to San Francisco with all the passion of Maupin in "When the lights go down in my cit-tay. When the light go down on the bay-ay. Oh I wanna be they-ey-eyre in my cit-ay ..."

It cost 10 bucks, it was sold out and we had to wait in the cold. Cold, in L.A.—it was some kind of wonderful. I saw drummer, Sherri Solinger outside, who introduced me to guest singer, a bearded, "Kenny Loggins." Despite an instant connection with band members, a press business card, and the fact that I knew the cashier inside, I still waited and paid my 10 bucks. It was totally worth it, singer Woody "Steve Perry" who had sideburns and a shag this side of Oh Sherrie, tore through song after song. Most of us sang along at the top of our lungs. The band didn't mind, they loved it. They understood. Hell, that's why they're doing this. Yes, we screeched through the "Streetlight, Peep-pu-u-ul!" of Don't stop Believin, the staccatoed, "Ooh, all night. All night. Oh, every night," of Anyway You Want It, the banshee cry of "I really LOVE you gir-rl" in Separate Ways. If I could watch this band once a week, I would. Unfortunately, they play out only like 3 times a year. If you missed this show, you can redeem yourself, I heard they were playing Safari Sams soon, check their myspace.

But as we looked for lighters to wave above our heads, I thought, how could any of these songs be called "cool"? No, we were a bunch of dorks, sweating, recalling heartache and heartbreak, the confusing friction heat of vinyl car seats, paradise by the dashboard light, and a longing that worked you up so bad only a power chord and high C could satisfy it.

Posted by Linda Immediato

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Apparently thieves broke into a truck and stole $50,000-worth of Taryn Rose shoes destined for the designer's Beverly Hills boutique. $50,000? I went to Taryn Rose's website and some of her stuff is plain nasty. The shoes even have names like 'Shakira', 'Tyra' and 'Britney'. How about 'Payless'?

But apparently Angelina and Oprah wear them, so they must be good.

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Becks is coming to LA in July to start a five year contract with LA Galaxy! He will be paid around $1million a week! LA will become the soccer epicenter of the world!

Becks will hang out at Element, Cabana Club and Teddy's and Posh will hire Rachel Zoe and continue to be anorexic. Cant wait!

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Burn rubber with brand spankin' new officially licensed NASCAR shoes. The LA- based Genius Fashion Inc. has designed wedges, pumps and platform sandals made of pony hair, Italian leather and suede inspired by the grand redneck sport. The shoes feature tire tread rubber soles, and embossed checkered racing flags. But surprisingly, they look like they'd be more at home in a Hollywood nightclub than in a trailer park.

The officially licensed NASCAR shoe line is available at boutiques across the nation and on-line at www.nascar.com and www.zappos.com. Prices range from $69-$250.

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I am still waiting on confirmation that the dark haired muffin with pin-up girl bangs in a demure dress was Lily Allen. I swung by Ashley Paige's shop on Sunday to check out the pooches she has up for adoption, and swear I it was non other than the brit reggae songstress chatting up the dude from Earth Wind and Fire, or maybe I had too may bloody marys at brunch, or maybe it was the damned little yorkie mix who stole my heart that had me so distracted. Either way, Paige's pet adoption does attract some big named helpers. One time I swung by to find one of my favorite TV stars, Trixie from DEADWOOD (god, I loved that show). If you're looking for a creature to love, or maybe just a bikini, swing by Ashley Paige's 1616 Cahuenga shop on Sundays...

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Have no idea what's goin on with the sale of the LA Times ( hear potential buyers include David Geffen!) but at least the uncertainty hasn't hurt the music section... online anyway. Weekend Calendar editor Kevin Bronson, the self-proclaimed "oldest guy at Spaceland on any given night" has a new music blog, and it rocks. No pretentious prose or inane band comparisons here, no siree.

In other blog related news- how about that Perez Hilton? Gotta admit his site is a guilty pleasure sometimes, amd I know if we met we'd probably be bitch buds. But the recent lawsuit concerning his unauthorized use of photos has made him a beacon for online free speech, and I don't really think he deserves it.

Sending the infamous Britney crotch shots to a friend via email for some laughs or dragging some old publicity still from another website for use on yours is one thing, but posting new photos on a high-traffic site that makes big bucks such as his, while not crediting or even more fairly, paying something to those who shot it and/or own it, is just wrong.

The guy is often quite hilarious and usually has the best dish thanks to his celeb pals, but imagine the site without photos (most of which he didn't take).... not half as much fun.
That said, when he does get his own shots in, they're pretty much humdingers. Like the recent NYE pics of John Mayer (hot!) and an obviously inebriated Jessica Simpson (not). Thankfully, no crotch shots were involved.

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This month's Conde Nast-published Wired magazine reads less like a tech-geek periodical and more like The Anarchist's Cookbook, v 2.0.

One story, entitled Duck the Police, references our favorite LA rabble-rousers NWA while educating speed-racers on how to dodge cop radar and laser detectors with a range of hi-tech law-bending devices. The Valentine One Radar Detector, for instance, picks up all types of police detectors at a distance of 4.5 miles, "leaving plenty of time to slow down," says Wired. "Worth every penny." Perfect for those of us who opt not to adhere to LA's tortoise-like urban speed limits of 25 miles per hour.

Flip to page 46, where you'll find out how to disable new radio frequency ID chips being fitted in all US passports issued after January 1 2007. They make it "easy for officials - and hackers - to grab your personal stats." While kindly reminding readers that tampering with your passport could land you in jail for up to 25 years, writer Jenna Wortham nonetheless recommends passport holders smash the chip into smithereens with a hammer. "Forget about nuking it inthe microwave," she advises. "The chip could burst in to flames, leaving tell-tale scorch marks."

Vive la revolution! Fight the power! Etc!

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A fierce debate is still brewing among my pals who went to Little Radio's New Years Eve shindig. Reports had trickled in about rude staff, a missing page on a VIP list that caused two of my friends to have to pay again, dissapointment over the promise of free drinks meaning beer and booze, not champagne, crushing mosh pits, drinks spilling all over everyone, a girl's hair getting ripped out, a broken dove, and just the general feeling of being abused. One close pal summed up the evening thusly: "we went to lame ass Little Radio indi puke fest to get mawled, ripped off and bored to death."

And the other camp, claims, to have respect for the Little Radio guys since they're "bringing electric cars to LA, , bringing good bands in to play, throwing summer parties, and opening their doors to (offices for) other like-minded businesses for very fair rent....Don't know about the mauling, but if you mean the crush of the balloon "drop" and subsequent thrashing, I should cop some blame....I dragged our asses up there.  At 12 they played "Kick Out the Jams" and then Gang of Four's "I Found that Essence Rare"!...what can I say?!  I was stoked! "

I wasn't there, I was having my heart broken in Bakersfield and no,  that's not a Buck Owens song. Anybody care to share their Little Radio experiece here? Please post away...

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I spent Christmas with my family in NYC, which meant ice skating, a show at Radio City Music Hall, our annual trip to the Museum of Natural History, and spending some QT with my 95 year old grandmother, named Angelina, who we call Nanny. Nanny is a spitfire, and very opinionated about the church, marriage, and babies and she wants all of them in my immediate future and in that order. Besides her hearing failing she's sharp as a tack.  Did I mention this woman lived through two World Wars, the Great Depression and now the current Bush administration? And she knows more celebrity gossip than anyone I know and had a lot to say about the woman who shares her name.

Nanny: Angelina, what's her name?

Me: Jolie

Nanny: what?

Me: Jolie.

Nanny: Right. Jolie, She isn't worth two cents, chasing a married man around like that, disgraceful. And all the babies in THIS country, she has to adpot from other countries! And her husband, what a screwball! What a nut. He had a nice girl. I liked his wife, what was her name?

Me: Jennifer Aniston

Nanny: what?

Me: Jennifer Aniston.

Nanny: yeah, uh-huh. And she was so nice, she seemed like a good girl. Although (she pauses) she said she's not ready to have a baby. I mean how old is she that she's not ready? Come on!.... Ah! they're all screwballs these days. All these actors... Except George Clooney.

Me: You like him?

Nanny: Ooooh yeah! He can put his slippers under my bed anyday!

Me: Nanny!

Nanny: Awww, come on, when am I gonna meet George Clooney?

and with that thought she drifted off to read Page Six of the Post....

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It really seems like yesterday. My husband and I were at El Compadre, our favorite place to get stuffed and sloshed (their Cadillac margaritas + the mole enchiladas = heaven) on a chilly January evening last year. The topic of New Years resolutions came up and I boldly declared, "I only really want two things in 2006! I want a cover story and I want to get pregnant."

"You can make both of them happen if you try," hubby said, in his typical encouraging way. Well, yeah, but obviously I needed his help with one of 'em.

Flash forward a month later, the third week of February to be exact. After a long limo ride to San Diego for some Hard Rock Hotel event I was covering (see the post I did way back when here), I get a call that a piece I did on controversial local character/film maker John Roecker made the Weekly's cover. Yeah! One down and in only a month! Quite a big deal for me. Plenty, and I mean plenty of celebratory champagne followed.

In the blog posting from that weekend you'll see I mention a bad case of nausea while riding the limo to and from the event. Well, well, well… Little did I know I was knocked up too! Two down! (And yeah, the champagne binge was not good, I know. I worried about it throughout my entire pregnancy).

Almost a whole year later, as I look at the angelic face of my 2 month old daughter, I'm done worrying (about that anyway). She's healthy and happy and gorgeous.

The delivery didn't go perfectly. In a nutshell it went like this:
3 hours of torturous contractions at home starting at 1 am.
A groggy- and grouchy- drive from my husband to Glendale Adventist Hospital from our home in Silver Lake at 4 am (thank god for the 2 freeway).
The merciful epidural at 5am!
Barfing so bad the nurse said they'd never seen anything like it at 6 am ("Really?" I ask in disbelief. "Well, yes ladies get sick during labor, but not the kind Exorcist projectile vomiting you were doing!" she replied. Nice…)
Three hours of pushing I couldn't really feel ("Imagine you're pooping!" the nurse said. Real nice…)
And ultimately an emergency C-section at 3:20 pm the following day.

All turned out as it was supposed to. I got the best holiday gift ever: my little Charlotte-Elsie-Cadillac (yes, it's a reference to those El Compadre maragaritas… they make me really frisky and we believe she was conceived on them).

As I look forward to the new year, I'm optimistic and hopeful. You really can get what you want from a resolution with enough determination… and luck.
Let's hope so because I still got 15 of the 40 pounds I gained last year and I want them gone in 07!

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