While at a residency at Dorland in 2025, I wrote the words that would become my first piece in The New York Times, which is such a rite of passage for a writer. That being said, I had still not broken into my own hometown newspaper, the Los Angeles Times. I set my sights on the LA AFFAIRS column, which is L.A.’s answer to The New York Times’ MODERN LOVE column. It took time, patience, and persistence, but the LA AFFAIRS editor, Marques Harper, reached out to me, whilst I was at Dorland, and asked to pub my piece. It went up digitally this past Friday, October 23, and will appear in the print edition of the Sunday, November 1 Los Angeles Times. I can’t wait to see it in print!
It appears Dorland, and the inspiration it provides, is my good luck charm. Maybe I should come more often?
Here’s an excerpt:
"To further aid me in my age acceptance campaign, I started to affectionately refer to my birthday as my “Double Nickels.” With my husband onboard, we chose a venue: the Penthouse, a swanky restaurant atop Santa Monica’s Huntley Hotel. On the appointed evening, Drew and I watched the sun set over the Pacific with an intimate coterie of dear friends, imbibing cocktails, mocktails and my favorite Schramsberg sparkling wine. (When I die, I want to be buried at their vineyard in Napa Valley.)
When we sat for dinner, speeches — or rather, roasts — broke out around the table, with our shared peals of laughter making the air ring with life and its sweetness. Tipsy, I stood up to address the table, having no idea what I was going to say. I started with thank you, and then, upon hearing Gloria Estefan in the background singing about the rhythm and the beat, I called to my friends to join me in a conga line around our table. (Note: I kicked off my heels before dancing, because, again, the trick ankle.)
Waving my white dinner napkin aloft, I thought of my grandmother: loud and proud. It was a smashing evening, and I fell asleep that night deeply grateful for my 55 years.
Lying in bed the next morning, Drew and I reviewed the highlights of the previous evening. Soon we were howling, bordering on hysterical. So much so, that I could no longer look directly into my husband’s face. It was when I was looking away, in that barely-breathable moment, that I had another idea.
“Let’s go away together.”
As our marital negotiation ensued, I agreed to toss my one-piece for a new bikini if he made the travel arrangements to the tropical destination of his choice.
About six weeks later, I laid my red bikini-clad body atop the white, powdered sugar sand of Cancún, Mexico. I was certainly not cutting the svelte figure I had in my 20s. But I was alive, healthy and with my favorite person in the world. The fact that Drew still gazed upon my more than half-a-century-old, decidedly not-hot physique with love and desire was a marvel and a gift.
Trick ankle aside, it’s love that we need to age gracefully."
For more from Diana: https://dianadanielepr.com; https://www.instagram.com/dianadanielepr/;
https://musingtimewithdianadaniele.substack
Diana Daniel is an author and publicist in Los Angeles.
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