Because you’re dying to know.
If you live in L.A., you should volunteer for the Cinematheque, like I do! It is super awesome and fun and you get to meet fun people and see movies for free and once, at the Aero, Jaime Lee Curtis came to the children’s matinee and I got to take her ticket! True story. Also, these theatres regularly screen some of the more important films in my life, including, but not limited to, Helvetica and Spaceballs. I am choosing not to read into the fact that Helvetica and Spaceballs are among the more important films in my life because I know this fact comments tellingly on everything that is bizarre about my life.
This place wins for being within walking distance from my apartment, and for having weekend film noir matinees, and couches.
3. The Venice Beach Freak Show
I remain entranced by the concept of the freak show, especially since it seems so outdated in this day and age. The Venice Freak Show is one tiny little room, and it will cost you $3 to tour, and in my mind it is worth it because of how the place harkens back to the glory days of circus sideshows and the play with normalcy and freakishness that those places embodied. While some of the exhibits are quite obviously real (you can even pet Rocky, the five-legged dog), others (mummified Chupacabra!) are obviously fake, and yet . . . it doesn’t matter. Does that make any sense? Like, I know the Chupacabra is not real. I know the Florida Swamp Ape is not real. But I do not care. Because they are still fantastical and awesome. I remain entranced by these places where one can wilfully suspend disbelief, where real and fake and normal and freak become ambiguous and intertwined. I’m becoming more and more interested in weird aporia in history and memory, and how we construct histories to fill those spaces.
Hickory Burger + Fries + Root Beer + Cherry Pie = LOVE FOREVER. Also, the Apple Pan is the one place in the world that is instantly capable of making all of my angst disappear. I enter that restaurant and I become glad. Nothing bad could ever happen at the Apple Pan. In case of nuclear holocaust, that is where I will be.
Unlike the Apple Pan, if you hit Clifton’s on an off day, it is pretty capable of making one depressed. The first time I went, I was so awestruck by the place (a depression-era cafeteria decked out to look like a fake redwood forest! Babbling brooks! Fake trees! Animatronic raccoons! AMAZING!) that I didn’t realize that the place is also kind of dingy and vaguely creepy, Lynchian, and discomfiting. The last time I went, I should have gone to the Apple Pan instead. I was looking for that instant-depression-lift that the Apple Pan can provide, but instead got sort of depressed because I arrived at 2:00 in the afternoon, so the lunch crowd was done and it was just me, some seniors, and less-fortunate downtown residents populating the place, and the jello salads were looking a little worse for wear. I did, however, get a fairly amazing turkey sandwich, a fairly amazing piece of pie, and some fairly shitty mac and cheese. I know I’m not exactly doing a good job of selling the place, but having said all of this, Clifton’s is still wonderful. It is wonderful that such a place even exists. It is wonderful that someone thought, “I know. I’ll make the inside of my cafeteria look like a redwood forest.” It is wonderful that if you go on your birthday they will give you a free cake. A free entire cake! IT IS WONDERFUL. You should go. (But skip the mac and cheese. Oh, and the enchiladas, if you know what’s good for you.)
The cozy bar down the street from my place that pours gigantic, strong drinks, and is wonderfully unpretentious and asshole-free.
Go for the margarita in a pineapple. Stay for the Mexican Martini: Tequila, lemon, Tabasco. Shut up it’s delicious and I am not an alcoholic I swear.
Oh, Groundworks’ Mexican Mocha. You warm my bitter, bitter heart.
10. Psychobabble
Oh, Psychobabble. I can sit in you and work for hours and hours, which warms my studious, studious heart.
11. Intelligentsia
Oh, hipster coffee shop. I will ride the bus for upwards of an hour to get to you and it is worth it. Your Iced Angeleno (espresso, milk, agave nectar) cools my sweaty, sweaty heart. Also, hipster boys in Silver Lake? I have crushes on each and every one of you, even though you are probably all stupid douchehounds. (Also: Dear Intelligentsia: I am distressed that you only offer barista training classes at your Chicago location because if you had them in Los Angeles, I would sign up in a heartbeat.)
12. Amoeba
Oh, giant record store. Take my money. Go on, take it.
I have already expounded on the virtues of this place here. I know that Los Angeles is supposed to make one cynical and disillusioned, and believe me, I am, but one thing that will never lose magicness for me is old Hollywood. Give me 1940s starlets and glitz and glamour. Give me melodramas. Give me noir. It constantly amazes me how fresh and sharp the old Hollywood movies that I love to watch are, and that’s why I keep going back to them. This place is like a temple of movie love. And, like the freak show, it’s another one of those instances where it doesn’t matter if things are real or not – apparently, there was some controversy a few years back about whether or not some of their Marilyn paraphernalia was real. But it’s a case of I don’t care. Because if you tell me that was Marilyn’s dress, or Rita Hayworth’s make-up kit, or Greta Garbo’s handbag, in my mind, the object in question becomes an object of legend, and it is the fantasy that matters, not the physical object itself. But when it comes to physical objects, this place really is full of magical treasures.
First of all, the library has the awesomest gift shop, which I realize is not the point of a library, but seriously: they have a cutting board that is shaped like a book that has “Romeo and Julienne” written on the spine. Secondly, I am a sucker for architectural grandeur. Thirdly, if you can overlook the significant number of Los Angeles’ finest vagrants that tend to hang out in the library and act creepy, it is a wonderful, quiet place to get work done. And it’s within easy walking distance to Clifton’s, so you have no excuse to not go there for lunch.
15. The Westwood Crest Theatre
Westwood has, what, five movie theatres? Six, maybe? I like this one the best because it is independently owned and operated, has a ridiculously glitzy neon marquee (kitsch wins my heart every time), and actually gets good movies.
16. Skylight Books
Fabulous bookstore! Down the block from Psychobabble! Yay!
Conveniently located near Intelligentsia. I love, love, love this store. I love vintage stores where the owners clearly also love vintage clothing and take care of it and care about it and treat it well. I love going in to shops like this. There’s a similar one in Toronto, way West on Queen that I can’t remember the name of, but they so obviously love the dresses that you go in and it’s almost museum-like, and I just stand around, awestruck. I hate vintage stores where dresses are all just in a heap or thrown on a rack. It makes me sad. I just really love dresses, apparently, and I think they deserve respect. The woman who runs Ragg Mopp can come across as a bit aloof and standoffish, but I like her a lot. The last time I went in, she remembered me from my previous visit, and pulled all of the new dresses in my size off the rack to show me. I just heart this place, so so much.
18. The Target at Santa Monica and La Brea
Um, so, the only reason this place really gets a mention is because every time I go in, this one security guard always quietly pulls me aside and tells me that I’m awesome. It’s usually something like “your shoes/hair/eyeglasses are super awesome, you are cool, have a piece of gum, walk tall, sister.” And thus, I love this Target.
Flea market! Yay! Every Sunday! Today I went to the flea market and learned that I have an uncanny ability to a) locate items made of Bakelite, b) covet them dearly because they are awesome, c) have conversations with friendly vendors about how awesome Bakelite is, d) leave empty handed because Bakelite is too collectible and expensive and who can spend $50 on a bangle? Pas moi. But this place is full of amazing treasures. My favourite stall is the one that is all vintage kitchenware and vintage hats. Today I got a fantastic pyrex dish and this awesome set of little anodized aluminum cups in a zip-up case, that are going to live on my shelf at school so I stop using disposable cups at the water cooler. Look at me, saving the world! Also, I am really into vintage pyrex kitchenware right now – like, the white glass stuff with prints on them, like this stuff here – and am entertaining fantasies of an entire kitchen outfitted with the stuff. So, you know, for future birthdays and Christmases and I Want to Get Alexandra a Prize for Being So Awesome occasions, just bear that in mind. The dish I got today is like this but with a yellow print, and I’m using it as a fruit bowl. Fun!
I could eat nothing but their Peace Not War Wonton Soup for the rest of my life, and I would die a contented woman.
21. The old Broadway theatre district
Most of the theatres on Broadway are no longer theatres, but most of the old marquees are still there, and there is some dazzling deco architecture hiding beneath the urban grunge. Every time I’ve been through this neighbourhood, it’s seemed amazingly bustling and alive, and even though you might imagine a neighbourhood of abandoned theatres to be kind of depressing, it’s far from. There’s a fascinating juxtaposition of old architecture with new, slightly sketchy-looking businesses, selling everything from electronics to Quinceanera dresses.
Yes! It’s true! Alexandra’s Bordello! Or rather, a truly outrageous apartment building with a sign on it stating that it is my bordello:
Mine. All mine.