All's Right In Ojai: RFK JR. Stumps At a Private Residence In CA
A historic home in California invites Celebrity interest and revived hope among locals
“California deserves whatever it gets. Californians invented the concept of life-style. This alone warrants their doom.”
― Don DeLillo, White Noise
How do you know you've landed back in California?
You catch a glimpse of hotel staff saging a newly vacated room before they've even pulled the sheets from the bed. At a small-town (miscellaneously named) boutique, you pick up a tiny red clutch that catches your eye, turn it over, and gasp aloud over the $500 price tag, wondering on the car ride back to the hotel what everyone here does for a living. At the local farmers market, when you ask a young woman selling organic produce what she likes most about Robert F. Kennedy Jr., she gushes and tells you that he's "radical." At the dried flower stand, when you compliment a centerpiece constructed of dried branches and dead brush with a small bird's nest anchored in the middle, the florist redirects your admiration (almost scoldingly) to remind you that the earth — not her handiwork — is responsible for the handsome holiday arrangements. "Nature provides," she tells you, sternly, in response to praise.
This is Ojai hospitality. Earthly mantras beget spiritual awakenings, and everything has a deeper meaning.
A twinge of desperation belies such celebrated seclusion, though. Nestled beneath the warm embrace of the Topatopa Mountains, Ojai looks every bit the setting of a sun-soaked bohemian novel. Adorned with citrus groves and oak-studded hills, it draws a particular type: hedonistic souls seeking respite from the frenetic pace of LA — an ideal escape for burnt-out Angelenos rejecting blind liberalism, lending itself as an alternative to increasing big city decay. (Ojai is more affordable, too. Housing costs are 39.6% less than in Topanga.)
Around town, they've cultivated a small but impressive kaleidoscope of culinary delights consisting of a handful of beloved farm-to-table restaurants boasting menus curated with meticulous care. Locals and visitors alike gather on shaded patios to savor the fusion of organic ingredients and artistic flair that have come to define Ojai's gradually evolving landscape. (Regardless, everyone will tell you to go to either Duchess or Rory's.)
I was quick to accept a last-minute invite to RFK Jr.'s appearance at a historic home in Ojai while on the road in Vegas. I prefer donor events hosted at someone's house and suspected the crowd would include like-minded people, shredded online for speaking out against mandates and lockdowns when social tolerance shriveled to a pulp back in 2020.
Plus, it offered the perfect excuse to finally meet up with Cathy Hahn, Post Malone's stylist, whom I've been trying to connect with (in real life) for ages.
Upon arrival, we met Cathy and her husband at the oldest restaurant in town. Deer Lodge is a Twin Peaks-style tavern where all walks of life come together for “classic Californian” cuisine: "This is where memories are made, where the blacktop ends, and paradise begins…this is where time stands still," the website boasts. During dinner, it felt like we were reuniting with old friends. Plus, we got the backstory on how she came to dress one of the planet's biggest (and sweetest) rock stars.
Back in 2017, Post Malone's team was pushing for a stylist to fine-tune his taste for "weird, wearable art." He wasn't into hiring help, but told them he might change his mind if they found the person who dressed John C. Reilly in the Dewey Cox movie.
Cathy, meanwhile, was itching to branch out and do her own thing in the industry, but was understandably stressed about such a drastic move. When they traced the film's wardrobe back to her, it was a fateful creative collision for the both of them. From that day on, she's been the only one Posty trusts to style him for shoots, videos, events, and tours. Cathy does it all, and counts Orville Peck as a loyal client now, too.
Keith, the ever accommodating “Oyster Guy” who caravans around the country canvassing for his friend, picked us up the following morning in a 1980s seatless van outfitted with Kennedy bumper stickers. The lawless van ride around town proved a cheap thrill for Hayes — no seats or seat belts, a pack of sour candy on his lap. Nine-year-olds make perfect road dogs. Keith drove us around town in folded chairs to the farmers market, then to Duchess, where Hayes learned to shoot pool and Denise mistakenly approached a woman she thought she'd met the night before at a shop in town, failing to realize that the floor-length denim duster she remembered on the saleswoman is an Ojai staple. Everyone here has one.
On my way to collect our bagels, a young mother trying to wrangle two cranky toddlers escaping a stroller snagged me gently by the arm as I passed, thanking me for giving Kennedy a fair platform online.
"You're here for RFK, I assume?" she asked, looking delighted when I confirmed.
Based on casual conversations around town, enthusiasm for Kennedy in Ojai is surprisingly high for a liberal leaning corner of California.
Farmer’s Market Hot Take
Keith + Megan @megnmarie.c @hiltopcanyonfarm
Dress code instructions vary with each event and location. It can be tricky for someone new to the political circuit, having to select a wardrobe designed for small talk and schmoozing. I suppose it means a blazer or a pantsuit. At least, that's what we tell ourselves when we fail to pack accordingly (which is often the case). Coming straight from Vegas, our options were limited. If only we could master Didion-defined precision, where every item in our suitcases serves a particular place and purpose. Imagine the satisfaction — every item perfectly picked and presented to suit each appearance.
“California ‘business casual’ means you can show up in a bikini top and palazzo pants,” a friend assured me as I fretted. “No one in California is prone to overly formal anything.”
Cathy echoed this theory, assuring us that Ojai has the same lax expectations as LA. She gave us a list of places to shop and visit. Thanks to her, I splurged on two brightly colored cashmere sweaters at Ali Golden, but found nothing to satisfy ‘smart business casual.’
I ended up resorting to a crinkled silk blouse I found rolled up in my suitcase by Rachel Comey steamed by hot shower at the hotel.
“Our enduring fixation with Didion’s packing list has less to do with its contents and more to do with the fact that we crave decisiveness.”
Via THE CUT:
“You’ve probably heard about Joan Didion’s packing list. Two skirts; one sweater. Cigarettes and bourbon. A mohair throw. A typewriter. It goes on. When she died on Thursday at the age of 87, this list, which she kept taped to her closet door, came up a lot — both in reverence and with an eye roll. Some people think it’s perfect; a model of personal taste that is both disciplined and self-indulgent. Others think it’s a bit overhyped. (Deodorant? Duh.) Or that maybe we should focus on Didion’s talents beyond filling a suitcase. There are lots of opinions out there, but I’d completely forgotten about it until I logged on to Twitter earlier today and saw screenshots and comments to the effect of: Don’t you dare bring it up.(Which is, of course, one way of bringing it up. Again.)
“Unsentimental, uninfluenced decisiveness. It is emblematic of a woman who carefully considered every choice she made, whether it was a word on a page or a sweater in a suitcase, and who was driven exclusively by her own sensibility, no one else’s. She found power in restraint. She was a human black turtleneck. And so we co-sign her packing list (or say we’re above it) as a way to signal that we, too, know how to make good choices. That we, too, have good taste. Despite the fact that Didion herself would probably see that as an empty gesture.”
The backdrop for the donor event is the stunning home that belongs to hosts Bill and Eliza Moses, ideal for this type of gathering. Nestled under a canopy of pepper trees, the Pratt House is a historic Arts and Crafts-style bungalow built in 1909 as a second home for industrialist Charles Millard Pratt — counted as one of the "ultimate bungalows" designed by architects Charles and Henry Greene of Greene and Greene.
I am told there is not a single nail tacked to the home. Everything, even the furniture, is original.
"The Pratt House commission gave the Greene brothers the most freedom in design of any other work. The client had unlimited resources, and the rural location allowed the architects to work out a unique solution to the site, which placed the residence in a truly natural setting. This was the fulfillment of a lifelong interest of the architects.
The choice of the building site allowed the architects and the client to purchase an adjacent 38-acre parcel that contained the all-important viewshed to which the house is directed. This parcel has been a part of the Pratt property since the creation of the residence and, today remains in its native state.
The combination of the rural setting and the client's interest in rustic "natural" retreats led the architects to create a work less effected and more consistent with the precepts of the Arts and Crafts movement as laid down by John Ruskin. The structure and cladding of the building are almost completely honest and devoid of mannered veneers and false beams contained in the other 'ultimate bungalows" — Noehill Travels
The soundtrack, a live violin duo, sets a tranquil tone. A wrap-around deck surrounded by lush landscape allows lively women wrapped in chic designs to move easily around the property, mingling in various corners of a spacious sun-soaked backyard, pouring and toasting drinks, pleased to see all of the familiar faces showing up.
There’s no denying that Kennedy pulls in an attractive bunch — all well-dressed and joyous, interested in various environmental causes, Transcendental Meditation, micro-dose healing, government conspiracies, medical freedom, cold plunges, elk meat, homeopathic remedies, acupuncture, fasting, hiking, health tonics, intense breath work, and anything that involves manifesting.
As I meander through the house looking for a bathroom, a woman whispers to her husband as I pass. She is slightly embarrassed when she asks to take a photo with me.
“You’re the one writing the Kennedy odyssey? The dogs in the van video?” her husband asks.
“No,” I say. “Just a campaign groupie, here to judge your wine and wardrobes.”
“Hah! I am SO sick of my wife talking about you.” Everyone in the room laughs. It’s funny, even if he’s not joking.
“Stop” she nudges him. “He’s following you now, too,” she assures me. “I see him late at night reading on his own.”
“We need election reform because our elections are being stolen. And these huge powerful voting machine vending companies have privatized the election process in our country.”
- ROBERT KENNEDY JR
Overheard: “I feel like every green “influencer” and environmentalist needs to wake the fuck up because Bobby is the only candidate with decent environmentalist history, policy and strategies. When did environmentalists become such dumb sheep?”
On the deck, before food is served, we sit in a small group gossiping about who’s at the party and who bought tickets but didn't show.
Brent Bolthouse is there, instantly familiar from the The Hills, but gray and more handsome now introduced by his gal — event Co-Host Nitsa Citrine, whom I’ve collaborated with (and enjoyed!) previously as part of Mercado Segrado
In an interview with Material Kitchen Nitsa assured us There's No Wrong Way to Host
“I love to be as creative, unconventional and resourceful when it comes to edible flowers (garnishes), floral arrangements, table settings…much to my neighbors' horror… ha! Just kidding. Sort of… but sincerely, am always amazed how a 20-minute walk can help me move my energy and expand my perspective on the final touches. We received a fair amount of rain this June so the mountains are still abloom with wildflowers! I love when friends offer to bring gifts from their gardens and homes - nasturtiums, squash, cherries - brings an element of spontaneity that I cherish.” - Nitsa Citrine
Heidi Merrick we haven’t seen in years. She offers to send Denise clothes. Maybe because she noticed the ill fitting blazer she was wearing exposed too much every time she bent down to get the shot, and knew she could remedy wardrobe struggles with better tailored alternatives.
I only realize Anna Getty is Anne Getty after a DM from a follower excitedly informs me of who the woman standing next to me in is. In socially shared instances, the internet always has my back.
Seated at a table after lunch, Kennedy makes his way around the party in a pink shirt to greet and thank everyone for showing up. His gratitude is genuine. With every handshake, he is working hard to rack up support; to prove he's not the maniac mainstream has painted him as.
From the sidelines, it all looks exhausting — day after day, continuous table greetings, eye contact, trite conversations, speeches, and steady commitment to strangers turning up on his behalf. Charm in politics is crucial, and he has plenty of it. Faces light up at every table he engages. In their riveted gazes, I see a semblance of hope revived. Three years ago, I couldn’t imagine it ever returning. On a humble scale, he is curing a jaded portion of society that was ridiculed and rejected during Covid. For these folks, he is a tireless champion, the riverkeeper here to clean up vaccines, amplify unpopular truths about compromised factions in our government, poison in our food and water, and to dismantle corporate capture of the middle class. His "agenda" feels honest to those paying attention. People believe him when he talks.
At one table, when he compliments a woman's eyes, she blushes as he walks away. The gesture is sweet. Seeing a man comfortably flatter a woman without fear of reactionary judgment is refreshing, in the rigid social climate of today where it's become a dying trend to compliment members of the opposite sex. Everyone is afraid of offending women, so women, as a result, are stuck pretending we enjoy being invisibly alluring.
Shiva Rose is an earth Angel among this crowd. During Covid she helped keep many of our sanity in tact. She served as a calming lifeline, constantly offering reassuring messages and holistic tips, along with informative articles while encouraging growing dissent online. It was a trying period for me, learning to navigate new attacks, going from being celebrated by the internet to being pushed into cancelled territory. Shiva steadied me through it.
As fate would have it, years earlier, she had RFK JR. at her home for an event and told him if he ever ran for president she would help with his campaign. At a friend’s backyard in Ojai, her promise is kept.
“THE BIRD IS IN THE BAG”
Kennedy shows us photos of a recent falconry trip in NY. His love of animals is a major selling point for people like my in-laws who say they will literally vote for the guy solely based on this quality. They are perpetually rescuing birds and cats. They appreciate that he is one of them.
I am not as swayed by animals but find the bird thing uniquely attractive. After he show us a series of old photographs, spanning decades, of him with birds, I joke with Shiva that the birds, captured in slow motion, are what will take him straight to the White House.
“The bird is in the bag!” she laughs.
A little while later, I overhear one of his campaign staffers saying they need to reel in his tendency to “just give anyone who asks” celebrity contact info. Hearing this, I make a mental note to ignore bird inquiries next event and corner him for Bill Clinton’s number instead.
“We are living in a science-fiction nightmare where children are gasping for breath on bad-air days because somebody gave money to a politician. And my children and the kids of millions of other Americans can no longer go fishing and eat their catch because somebody gave money to a politician.”
— Robert F. Kennedy, Jr.
“One of the hosts, Ojai resident and local business owner Bill Moses, responded by email to the Ojai Valley News about what had motivated him to support the event: “I wanted to hear for myself, live and unedited, RFK Jr. speak. I resonate with RFK Jr.’s concern on the corporate capture of government agencies that are meant to advocate for us. Our nation was threatened by the Jan. 6th Capitol attack and by those who deny election results. Another threat to our nation is how corporate capture is hurting our economy, environment, political system and our people.” — Host Bill Moses
“I am an environmental activist. I want clean water and air, healthy soil to grow food and thriving ecosystems and habitats. In all of the areas of industry I have started digging, I find the same thing: state and federal policies and regulations are not protecting our air, water or earth. Years ago, I sat in on a brilliant presentation from Climate First: Replacing Oil & Gas (CFROG). A deep dive revealed the corruption and loose regulations of the oil industry right here in California. I have been let down by many politicians that have promised environmental advocacy, yet made no changes. I strongly and passionately support RFK Jr. as president because he has been working for most of his career to hold big polluters accountable.” — Host Eliza Moses
Only brave celebrities turn up for Kennedy — those on the cusp of a cultural rebellion. Courtney Love is one of them. She was the first to bring RFK to my attention. A few months before his announcement, she tipped me off that he was running. She even told me where and when it would happen. I trust her tips and warnings; she hasn't been wrong about much yet. Her second suggestion is to watch who she refers to as “the ginger haired Kennedy” in Congress. Joe Kennedy III, 40, is also brimming with promise and charisma, she insists.
“Pay attention to him,” she urges.
Mixed in the crowd are Vogue cover veteran Kristy Hume — bare-faced under her iconic sheet of platinum hair and stunning as ever in a crimson printed prairie dress — and another 90s fashion icon, Shalom Harlow, in high spirits laughing with a small crowd circled around her. Seeing them both, I wonder if their photos online will shift others in the industry. Another retired supermodel in my inbox is curious but suspicious of Kennedy. “Just tell me if he’s a quack or not” she wrote recently. “Not!” I responded. With that, she agreed to give him a shot. Perhaps seeing her peers in his audience will help.
In the backyard at the bottom of the hill, I scan the crowd to see if any rumored silent celebrity supporters have shown up. They haven't. I wonder what it might take for people like Kourtney Kardashian and Beyoncé (both hushed members of the elite anti-vax text threads that sprang up during COVID) to RSVP. What good is mass wealth and power if you’re still catering to orthodoxy you resent?
My DMs reflect that fear. My site now serves as a part-time political confessional. People come to voice and discuss their frustrations with the left and to admit they like controversial personalities like J. K. Rowling, Tucker Carlson, Donald Trump, or RFK. Somewhere along the way, I became a "safe space" on the Internet for closeted conservatives in the entertainment industry. We trade memes and laugh and discuss together in secret confines. Silent Trump supporters in Hollywood are far more than anyone would guess. The question, though, is: will they expose themselves at any point leading up to this election?
Standing in front of a custom banner touting “Ojai for Kennedy” RFK speaks about everything from homelessness and housing crisis to credit card debt to his battle with addiction 40 years ago which invites a sample of his philosophy of life. “I like to wear life like a loose coat,” he says, explaining that “learning to endure pain is a path to wisdom.” Re: his campaign, he vows, “My mission over the next 12 months of the campaign is to end the anger and the vitriol and lead everybody over the wall.”
At the end of the night, we end up at Britney Cade, wife to Green Day’s Mike Dirnt’s house next door. Kendra Wilkinson from Playboy is there with Jessica Sutta from the Pussycat Dolls. David, Bobby’s godson, is the common connector among us all. He shows up sporting a bandage that hides a lightning bolt-shaped cut on his neck — a fresh wound from a dog fight earlier in the day. He had to tear Bobby’s dog away from an attack on a hike and ended up with stitches near his jugular.
After Britney takes the kids down to the yard to feeds the pigs, we all settle around her dining room table with wine and random snacks she sets in front of us, laughing because her mother is disappointed at her hosting display. I sit listening to Hollywood horror stories about an old actor I adore. The accusations send a shiver down my spine. The details involved are dark and depressing. More secrets to stockpile.
Kendra, funnily enough, is the only celebrity Mike recognizes without explanation. Usually I’m running through a series of descriptors before he comprehends a famous face. In this case, he’s edging on starstruck. Leave it to a playmate.
Kendra is just as you'd expect. Of all the girls, she was my favorite because she always seemed the most herself on camera. In person, she is just as candid and down to earth.
Over the hour, she talks openly about her struggles with anxiety and depression, juggling everything from being a single mother to reinventing herself as a real estate agent in LA. It's a profession she prides herself in. She tells us how much she loves selling houses and how hard it was to get back on track after her divorce. She worries the reality show she just wrapped is too real for TV. She filmed it while she was in a dark place and assumes people won’t like this stripped down side of her.
I listen, thinking she’s probably wrong about that.
Jessica is a vax injury statistic. After she got the vaccine, she suffered crippling side effects — neurological issues developed that were linked to the shot. Her own research in trying to heal herself led her to RFK. Her instagram links to various articles about vax injuries and long Covid.
After the event, both women upload selfies they took with him on Instagram. Near the end of the evening someone on Kendra’s team reaches out, urging her to delete hers. She looks noticeably disappointed when she does.
On our way out, Britney shows us the psychedelic-style poster from one of Kennedy’s events months earlier at which Eric Clapton performed, raising over $2 million for him in Malibu. The poster has both of their faces on it. The design pays homage to old Hendrix style flyers. Clapton’s name and face is prominent. Three years earlier he and Van Morrison were the only prominent rockstars speaking out against the mandates.
“We need more like him,” I say … to no one in particular.
“Like who?” someone asks, “Eric or Bobby?”
“Both.”
This is so encouraging, I’m 72 and keep asking where have all the Hippies gone? The “ War, what is it good for?” Peace demanding, Nature loving, health food promoting Children of the 60s and 70 .... hope springs eternal, looks like they and their off spring are in Ojai supporting an actual walk his talk honest to goodness Democrat, RFK Jr. “Imagine”.....
I feel like you save your best writing for the Kennedy pieces. This was so good.
“Everyone is afraid of offending women, so women, as a result, are stuck pretending we enjoy being invisibly alluring.”
That line. So. Good. Bravo.
Also, Denise’s photography is so beautiful. I work catering and whenever I work private parties for the wealthy I’m in awe of how different they move. It’s not just their hydrated elite bone structures and incredible homes. It’s the FABRIC. No synthetics or blends in sight. Impeccable stitches.
Those photos made me want to run through orange groves in white linens. Like 1993 Much Ado About Nothing. But make it political.