My Dina Lohan rule

My Dina Lohan rule

One of the very first “celebrity” type events I ever attended was a party for Jasmin Rosemberg for her book, “How the Other Half Hamptons.” The first-time author had worked for the New York Post as a contributor and had written a fictionalized version of some of her experiences doing the share house scene out here.
Definitely told from the perspective of young 20-somethings, I headlined the feature I wrote on the book “Hooking up, breaking up and throwing up in the Hamptons.” So it made sense that the party for it was held at the now-defunct Lilly Pad in East Hampton. It was one of those places that I avoided: too young, too flashy, too conspicuously a “scene.” And as those places often do, it lasted a summer and has turned over many, many times in the seven years I’ve lived here.
Anyway, Jasmin was (and I’m sure still is) a sweet girl so I told her I’d go to her party even though it was SO NOT my kind of scene. Everyone was barely drinking age; wearing short, sparkly, super colorful dresses; and tottering on spike-heeled shoes while doing fruity shots. Oy.
Already uncomfortable, I knew it was time to leave when Dina Lohan (who is several years older than me and was easily 20 years too old for that party) showed up.
“When Dina Lohan shows up, I’m out,” I always say. That’s been my rule ever since, though she isn’t really invited to the types of things I am.
I did run into her at an event this summer. I just couldn’t bring myself to take her picture but realized as I was editing my photos that she did make it into a group shot. Here it is–my one and only photo of one half of the couple responsible (some hefty meaning there) for Lindsay Lohan.

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