And the security wand says: Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeep.

Lady Gaga recently passed through the Pacific Northwest, and decided a leather-studded dress-and-shoe combo were the perfect option for the Vancouver International Airport. Knowing that she is the patron saintess of newelty, we had to post this photo of her in action. Lady Gaga in travel action is a mighty amazing thing.

You got to give it up to her–it takes a certain New York chutzpah to accessorize like that for a flight.

See the full outfit after the jump.

"I was thinking about bringing back from fleece from Seattle, but I went with this instead..."

Full story over at the Daily Mail, although these pictures are really the heart of it.

P.S. What do you think her luggage looks like? I’d guess one of those tedious monogrammed Louis Vuitton cases, but I’d kind of hope for something more. Maybe this skeletony Alexander McQueen luggage set I’ve been coveting for years?

P.P.S. Do you think the wand lady did a wand search of her full Amy Winehouse up there?

The idea of being buried in a crypt or some spooky cemetery with an elaborate gravestone conjures images that don’t equate resting in peace.

With that said, however, I share Lia’s fascination with graveyards, and when I was in Argentina in January I visited the infamous La Recoleta Cemetery in Buenos Aires.

Most people flock there to visit Eva Perón’s grave, which is actually quite anticlimactic as it is very understated. (I also don’t get the cultural obsession with her).

La Recoleta is large and is laid out to feel like city blocks. Large mausoleums hold past Argentinean presidents, cultural figures and other wealthy aristocrats.

Some of these structures are incredibly ornate and extremely impressive. You can’t help but feel reverence, and national pride exudes everywhere.

If I had to choose my favorite from the thousands of gravestones, this would be it.

I had a blast at Paris’ Cimetière du Père Lachaise (with a great interactive tour here), so it didn’t strike me as weird to bust out the photography when at Westwood Village Memorial Park Cemetery, Marilyn Monroe’s final resting place.

The lipstick traces are fun. They reminded me of Oscar Wilde’s grave–also at Père Lachaise–which was covered with kisses when I visited there. (Evidently, to his grandson’s annoyance.)

My great friend Harry showed me around the place, pointing out the markers for Ray Bradbury and Dean Martin.

Harry and I both consider Some Like It Hot one of the best movies ever, so it was interesting to see that most of the cast was not too far from Marilyn, including the director:

In case you can’t make it out, it says “I’m a writer but then nobody’s perfect.” I can say this was the first funny gravestone saying I’d ever seen.

Then I came across Jack Lemmon (another Some Like It Hot) co-star:

On the way out, I was distracted by how this cemetery, unlike Père Lachaise, which is surrounded with somber majesty, was shoehorned in between giant skyscrapers:

There’s something very L.A. about that to me. And speaking of very L.A., how amusing is it that even after death, Ms. Gabor doesn’t reveal her age?

Earlier this week, I was in Los Angeles. I’ve already written about how I love the funky side of L.A., specifically Venice, where the photo above was taken.

But this past trip I was a little obsessed with the glam side of L.A., possibly because I was listening to The Fame Monster most of the time. Top of my hope-to-meet-someday list is Lady Gaga, the inspiration behind this idea of a new kind of travel blog.

All that happened before I was just inches from one of the glitterati also on my short list.

For the longest time, I have been trying to work out how to include Johnny Weir on newelty.

I know: Figure skating? Really? But Johnny is to figure skating what Lady Gaga is to crappy 80s hair-band pop. From the little I’ve seen, lots of skaters create boring, predictable, hit-the-set-marks routines. (When I did tune in to the Olympics, there seemed to be a preponderance of cheesy cowboy outfits–never mind this racist train wreck.)

There’s not a lot that’s truly new and original. Remind you of anything we keep talking about?

Meanwhile, there’s Johnny, who just puts it all out there and takes no prisoners.

I heart him for his boldness, and his punk rock heart in a glittery shell. He reminds me of a matador. He’s huge in Japan, of course.

So when I came out of a dressing room at Fred Segal and saw him there–buying skinny jeans that I couldn’t fit into, no less–I was totally gobsmacked. I figured that even celebs want a break, though, and didn’t bug him when he shopped.

Happy ending: I bought the dress I was trying on, and now it’s my Johnny Weir L.A. souvenir. Yay! Those kinds of quirky moments are what make little jaunts to L.A. funny, weird, and fun to me.

P.S. In case you’re wondering what the post title refers to, here you go.

Here are the four I’ll be reading this month.

Pagan Spain by Richard Wright

I had never heard of this book, but I was wandering through the remainder bin at Powell’s book store and picked it up. How’s this for an opener?

“In torrid August, 1954, I was under the blue skies of the Midi, just a few hours from the Spanish frontier. To my right stretched the flat, green fields of southern France; to my left lay a sweep of sand beyond which the Mediterranean heaved and sparkled. I was alone. I had no commitments. Seated in my car, I held the steering wheel in my hands.”

The whole sentiment of that opening bit reminds me of a favorite Rufus Wainright song (“one way is Rome and the other way is Mecca / on either side/ on either side of our motorbike”). Listen to the song in this live performance on YouTube:

“When I get back / I will dream in Barnes & Noble.” Yep, that’s the general idea (although hopefully a Powell’s or one of these great bookstores instead).

Creative Spaces: Urban Homes of Artists and Innovators by Francesca Gavin

You know a book is for a certain kind of artsy type when the publisher feels the need to stick a bright yellow sticker on the front over with the actual book title on it. They probably realized that at the printers.

Sometimes, when I daydream about living on a houseboat in Amsterdam, I imagine that it will be filled with flea-market portraits. I’d have the kind of oddly beautiful hallway you find in these kinds of  books.

An example from my future home in London:

Japan’s Cultural Code Words by Boyé De Mente

I’m a little intimidated by this one for a few reasons: no pictures (just being honest, folks), a publisher I’ve never heard of (Tuttle Publishing of Toyko, Singapore…and Rutland, Vermont), and a formidable list of words that seem to mostly be about business ideology. I’ll read at this one for a while and see how I do.

FYI, I picked this up at a Kinokuniya bookstore in Seattle’s own Uwajimaya grocery-store-slash-food-court-slash-kimono-shop. It’s one of my favorite places in the entire city.

I ♥ Your Style by Amanda Brooks

I’m so looking forward to this book. From the outside, it might not look like a travel book, but to me it is for two reasons:

• I don’t buy souvenirs in the traditional sense. No snow globes or shot glasses, please. But I’ll buy a soft surfer-girl T-shirt that reminds me of a day in the sun in Venice, California; a Ted Baker dress at Selfridges to make me feel like Kate Moss; a pair of flats at Maison de Bonneterie in Amsterdam that I’ll wear while riding my Dutch bike at home. I will save all year to be able to buy a treat like this to take home when I travel.
• The fashion icons in this book–having only flipped through it–are often so incredible because they are associated with a certain place. Here are some women profiled in the book as examples:

Peggy Guggenheim = Venice

Early Madonna = NYC

Bardot + Deneuve = Paris, of course  (even down to the berets!)

I’m sympathetic to this idea because my own my mom tried something similar when I was fourteen. She created an itinerary for a visit to Britain that included a significant appreciation for Jane Austen and Beatrix Potter and other literary foremothers.

Meanwhile, I wanted to see the club where the Beatles played, and tour anything and everything to do with John Lennon.

It’s pretty obvious, when traveling in the U.K., that the only lady-sculptures you’re likely are of a chubby Queen Victoria, Boudica (yes, mom took me to see her, too) or some skinny lady like this one, in Inverness, Scotland:

Flora MacDonald, famous for helping some dude

Viv recommends walking in Dorothy Parker’s steps in New York and tracking down Gertrude and Alice’s apartment in Paris, which, weirdly, I’ve done. Maybe mom’s tour had more of an effect than I thought. So take heart, Viv.

On an only-marginally related note, John’s hometown is finally catching a break, and for the first time in decades, Liverpool is receiving more positive news coverage than negative.

It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one obsessed with the Dutch. I enjoyed this blurb from an earlier Vogue.com blog post (amusing enough that it almost makes up for the tired headline on the piece):

“If you approach a girl in Amsterdam these days,” says Sarah Keller, who founded the Paparazzi model agency here in 1996, “she’ll tell you, ‘I was already scouted two times today!’ ” Keller gets about 150 E-mails and calls per week from model hopefuls. Since the girls search out Keller, instead of the other way around, I decide to just visit Keller at her offices to learn about the Dutch phenomenon.

So hooray for the Dutch, the modeling world’s new phenomenon. Maybe, as the Brazilian models coincided with the (in my mind, unfortunate) global trend of the Brazilian, these Dutch lovelies can help bring about a more bike lanes, sensible and accessible health care, and a widened, open-minded world view. (It could totally happen, butterfly-effect-style.)

And I do agree. I think Lara Stone is beautiful (if, maybe, not savvy enough to say no to this unbelievably unfortunate photo shoot). I thought this photo from W magazine a few months ago was arresting:

It also made me want to go buy that crisp white shirt (but not the top hat).

Needless to say, I didn’t celeb-spot either Michelle or Mr. President, even though Kailua’s pretty small. (But I was sold some shave ice by the same guys who had served the president earlier that week.)

The celeb-spotting I did have was just as good: I was behind Jorge Garcia in line at the supermarket! Jorge plays Hurley, consistently the best character on the TV show “Lost,” and it was actually my second sighting. I regularly read his blog, but figured that unlike a politician, he’d probably appreciate being left alone.

A “Lost” obsession helped fuel some sightseeing on Oahu over the last few trips to that island. With the final season in full swing,  it seemed like the right time to cull through all the “Lost” locations for a few absolute favorites.

Top 5 Must-See Oahu Sights for Die-Hard Lost Fans

First of all, as someone who has written for a travel guidebook company, I’m generally skeptical of sightseeing recommendations. So while there are exhaustive “Lost” lists online, I’m not going to recommend you to to a bank or bus stop just because Kate had a robbery there–it’s still just a bus stop or bank. These places are worth seeing for their own sightseeing value. (If you want the super-detailed by-episode breakdown, check out Lost Locations, from Ryan and Jen at The Transmission.)

Except for Liliha–which felt so much like a locals place that I was intimidated to take photos–all the following recommendations are in the photo gallery below with more info in the notes for each photo.

5. Liliha Bakery in Honolulu: A pivotal place for early scenes between Kate and her mom early on in the show, it’s also like visiting Hawaii in 1955. Consider it your own time-travel wheel. (Details on Yelp.)

4. Kualoa Ranch: Lots of scenes here, including a personal favorite from one of Hurley’s brainstorms–let’s all golf! (Details.)

3. Waimea Falls Park: First scene involving Sawyer, Kate, and a waterfall–back when all the love-triangle stuff was new and novel. Added bonus of being directly across from Waimea beach, one of the most famous and historic surf spots in the world. (Details.)

2. Byodo-In Temple: Perfect for hosting elegant weddings between daughters of Korean gangsters and love-lost fisherman’s sons. It’s actually an amazing full-size replica of a temple in Kyoto. (Details.)

1. Mokuleia: Make a left at the funky, world-famous surf town of Haleiwa and follow a two-lane road almost until it ends, until you get to a a lonely airfield. Park your car by the side of the road, walk between farmland and forest for a few minutes until you pop out at this almost eerily quiet beach. See if it doesn’t make you feel like the last Lostie to survive the crash. (Details.)

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Check out the full flickr photo gallery or this flickr map of these five sites.

One final note: I love these quirky posters byTy Mattson. I want one! (H/t to Jorge.)