L.A. Feature_Trendy LA
51 L.A. On The Cutting Edge
LOS ANGELES _ For as long as most people care to
remember, Los Angeles has been perched on the cutting edge. For decades, L.A. has had the world waiting for the next trend: daring fashion, computer wizardry or special effects, both the reel and real kinds. This is, of course, the city that gave the world Jennifer Aniston’s much copied hairdo.
Ironically, the true trendies in L.A. would never even
acknowledge the concept of trendiness. To strive to be trendy is a decidedly untrendy thing to do_hopelessly dated. Better to be cool. Even better to be “way cool.”
The cool people here lead an ambivalent life: worshipping the latest techno baubles, but suspecting they were born too late. They permit themselves a deep reverence for L.A.’s golden era of the 1950s_wishing they were here then: less smog but plenty of great hats. And blond furniture and Fiestaware were really cheap.
So when a visitor lands in the land of the ultra hip,
how to blend in without looking like you’re trying too hard (a dead giveaway)?
Try following the pattern for a typical cool week_which starts on the weekend, of course.
Friday nights are reserved for a schmooze at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art in L.A.’s Miracle Mile; it would have to be pouring rain for the trendies not to show (that would free up a scant three or four Fridays a year). Actually going into the galleries is optional; the purpose here is to hang on the museum’s patio where jazz combos play and hundreds of the workweek weary gather to unwind. Wear black.
The focus on weekend days: shopping and then dropping by coffee houses for a cup of double something. The ever-trendy section of Melrose, between Fairfax and La Brea, is packed with punky teenagers (maybe less fun for Baby Boomers). The end of Melrose that runs west of Fairfax is cool: interior designer-worthy furnishings fill many small shops.
Beverly Boulevard, which parallels Melrose, is picking
up energy. Clothing designer Todd Oldham just claimed a corner shop. Good sign for coolness. La Brea Avenue is also way cool. Hot designer Anna Sui has a tiny shop there. Rita Flora is a combo cafe and florist_a new concept that works well. The street may be very anti-mall, but it’s got the onestop shopping concept nailed: plenty of peeled, rusty or brocaded furniture; vintage clothing, art galleries, pasta shops.
It’s cool to finish off the afternoon at a coffeehouse_something with a clever name like Highland Grounds or, if you venture down to Venice_another perfectly cool place_there’s Cyber Java, L.A.’s first on-line cafe.
Saturday nights can be a little tense: time to prove
your coolness. The doormen at the clubs-of-the moment will be the judge. Again, wear black. So many clubs, so little time. Will it be Johnny Depp’s Viper Room? Or Bar Marmont, the new club at the ultra-cool Chateau Marmont? Or maybe even salsa.
The punk crowd knows where the night’s rave is. Raves
are one-night-stands: all night, all techno music and light show. Long lines of body-pierced, 20-year-olds snaking out former bank buildings on Hollywood Boulevard are usually the
only indication the outside world has that a rave is going on within.
It’s up before dawn on Sundays to hit the flea markets. The coolest and the most exhausting by far is at the Rose Bowl on the second Sunday of every month. The cooler you are the earlier you show up at the gate: pay double the admission fee (ten bucks) to prowl the aisles as dealers unload their trucks. These days, savvy buyers quickly pass by the Southwest bric-a-brac in favor of ’50s blond wood furniture, European movie posters, chenille bedspreads and anything with rust. The old accessory of choice for flea market habitues was a wire shipping cart; now it’s pedigreed pooches, even if they get kicked. Common denominator: they both block the aisles.
L.A. is famous for its fickle finger when it comes to
restaurants. It’s more important to have been everywhere than to be on a first name basis with the maitre d’. Here, every restaurateur worth his salt has at least one other eatery beyond his signature spot: Wolfgang Puck (Spago), Joachim Splichal (Patina), Michel Richard (Citrus), Bruce Marder (West Beach Cafe). And why be forced to pick one cuisine when many bistros have managed to fuse (big concept in food: fusion) two or more. On the menu at Splichal’s Patina: potato lasagna. Bombay Cafe serves up California/Indian. One sure bet is even called fusion (small `f’, way cool) in West Hollywood’s Pacific Design Center.
In keeping with the new reverence for anything 50 years
old (except, of course, actual people), the few older stalwarts that have managed to survive L.A.’s wrecking ball mania have been rediscovered_and reclassified_as cool. Musso & Frank for Old Hollywood vibes and Trader Vic’s and the Tiki Ti for also newly cool tropical drinks.
Weeknights nobody cool goes straight home from work. Work out for an hour or two at Sports Club L.A. Or bowl your way to fitness 24 hours a day at the Hollywood Star Lanes_which defines the L.A. cool crowd’s obsession with retro.
And who can get too many double lattes? Weekday evenings are perfect for a long lounge at a tiny table at any outdoor cafe along the Sunset Strip or the Santa Monica Promenade. For reading material, cafe-goers head for one of the city’s more browsable bookstores: Book Soup on Sunset or the Midnight Special on the Promenade. The cool crowd may romanticize the L.A. of 50 years ago, but get real! No double lattes back then.
