I don't know if I ever mention enough how much I love Los Angeles. I know I don't say it enough. As Jack always says, "LA is my lady." Optimism oozed out of every corner of the city today and the sun shone in blue skies. It's a Saturday and families are out. In Olvera Street, all kinds of people were taking in the sun, with babies in arms and in strollers, tourists in hats, cowboys and their ladies coming in for hats and leather boots, and children buying their weekend candy. I'm suddenly mad about huipiles, the cotton dresses embroidered with flowers and trees and birds. (I shall wear mine with silver clogs, a pair of knickers and red lipstick. I may even wear flowers in my hair.) Olvera Street is full of them and finally, at the end on the left, just where my clever friend Miranda said they'd be, a shop stuffed full of traditional dresses, Mexican silver and pottery, crepe paper flowers in orange and pink and yellow, Dia des los Muertos figurines, traditional Mexican hats, artisanal silver mirrors, stamped leather purses and corazon ardiente (the heart bursting with flames). Tucked behind Union Station and next to El Pueblo de Los Angeles, Olvera Street is the oldest part of Downtown Los Angeles and includes 27 historic buildings. Despite the cheap clutter sold mostly for the benefit of tourists, it's impossible to walk down the street without being transported to old Mexico. Try it on a sunny day.