I parked my beat up car with a sigh for another day in paradise at the pink collar plantation in Reseda. Reseda is one of the many nondescript, glamor free backlot areas of Los Angeles nestled in the infamous San Fernando Valley. The temperature was already hitting over 80 even at the start of the day. I, like so many others, had been doing time at what we generously called the office in a converted warehouse on an alley across from a row of sad apartments and houses. A few enterprising chickens were roaming around the alley and parking lot. The free birds were one of the incidental complimentary entertainments the plantation provided. Models coming in for castings would tell us they would wonder if they were in the right place to work on a beautiful photoshoot or if the sketchy location had something much more tawdry in store for them.
As soon as I walked in the door the PA rang out “Ruby please call Judy, Ruby please call Judy” the overlordess of our little alternate world seemed to prefer alerting the whole building that she urgently needed to talk to Ruby instead of maybe just calling her on her phone like a normal person. Newly inducted recruits or short term guest workers would often inform us that things like that, things that were par for the course at the ranch, one would just not encounter such practices elsewhere. As I looked through my emails one stood out for more entertainment value with the subject line “Missing Chicken.” We might have thought one of our neighbor’s birds was MIA but no, Shirley had alerted the whole building to another highly important message that whoever had made off with the fresh and perfectly good breasts in the back kitchen fridge should confess and replace them, no questions asked. We, like in many other offices, were encouraged to put our names on our food to discourage any fridge bandits from making off with anything unclaimed.
These goings on were routine at Imagine Valley Publications magazine company. I had come to work there at a young age and served time passing the years with everyone else in Reseda. The PA announcements often were as plentiful as they were questionable in importance. One of the best was a few months ago when someone, maybe Ruby, announced “whoever left her wedding ring next to the sink in the back kitchen, see Michelle to get it.” Also it happened so often, it will forever stick in my mind, the frequent announcements of “Judy buzz Ruby, Judy buzz Ruby at extension 355,” as if Judy needed reminding of the extension Ruby had for over 20 years. One of the sales ladies would suspiciously show up day after day in one fabulous outfit after another, never to be worn again. One of Fernanda’s team mates found out she would buy something off the rack at Saks or Nieman’s, wear it and return it in an effort to keep up appearances! Another memory was one day when the LAPD had locked down the surrounding blocks due to a possible suspect in the area. Our staff made a run for it one by one at the end of the day to get to their cars. I remember hearing about Lauren telling a cop “excuse me” as she ducked under his drawn pistol. Another good story from another day was when one of the local homeboys asked Britney for her number as he was breaking into a car! These hard earned, vivid memories are something I will cherish, always.
I was working on some magazine story layouts that morning and I walked by Bobbie’s desk. I heard her crying again. Cindy told me “don’t talk to her, she’s on her period days.” Ok, the usual, another day in “paradise.” After lunch I thought I hallucinated the sounds of an aria or an opera singer. I might have imagined it but as I walked closer to the sound I could hear it coming out of Judy’s central office. It turned out that a friend’s daughter had dropped by to say hello and she was asked to share her singing talents with us all. Somehow the staff squeezed in some work on the magazines in between all the fun. So many vivid memories of the time at the Ranch, as I also call the old office in Reseda. A few weeks later I again heard unexpected music in the office as I came around the hall to see Judy done up as a one woman band complete with a washboard and tooting horns walking around the building.
Just another day in pink collar paradise.
–Ben Bregman | September 2024