Highland Park may have become synonymous with headlines about flipping Craftsman homes for hundreds of thousands of dollars over asking price and retenanting, but there is one timeless dish that has survived the gentrification and has continued to thrive: the breakfast burrito.
While many of the original working-class residents of many different backgrounds have been driven out, the Latino roots of the neighborhood are still evident as you stroll past the boutique shops and speakeasy sandwich bars. Highland Park’s most bustling business areas are made of the neighborhood’s two main streets, York and Figueroa. The former used to be an area that was known for boasting almost two dozen auto body shops at one point. As the economic picture has shifted, so have the businesses and yet one essential factor remains: people need to eat and the breakfast burrito is at your service.
Chinatown today is a neighborhood in flux, a place of cultural collision with new energy, new entrepreneurs, and cultures from around the world. But its history goes back generations and there remains a clutch of iconic bakeries, restaurants, cafes and lounges that blanket the landscape between the L.A. River and North Figueroa Street, from Phoenix Bakery (opened 1938) to Philippe (in its current location since 1951).
You’ll need a cup of coffee to take it all in. Happily the many-splendored neighborhood is here to oblige.
Photographer, artist, and professional skateboarder Ed Templeton has made a career out of capturing young people on the fringe, hanging out, hooking up, and chilling out. In 2011, he released Teenage Kissers, a companion to the groundbreaking Teenage Smokers (2000), images from nearly 16 years of kids passionately embracing at the skate parks, beaches, boardwalks, and suburban margins of Southern California, as teenagers are wont to do.
Now Templeton brings the exuberant human spirit of this project to Los Angeles Pride, where he documented revelers kissing on the streets of West Hollywood. His photos of parade-goers of all shapes, colors, ages and sizes form a technicolor collage of the many, many faces of love—whether you’re a shirtless cowboy, a pink-haired drag queen, guys in mesh shirts, guys with tattoos, or babes in pasties. On the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Rebellion, the act of affection becomes a political demonstration, the passion of each pair of lovers burning like a Molotov cocktail. One couple kisses in front of signs held by protestors from the notorious Westboro Baptist Church that say things like, “Homo sex is sin.” As their lips lock in the glorious afternoon sun, they flip them the bird.
Pinoe, who is like, THE queer icon when it comes to out footballers, is pretty much the only thing that makes me proud to be an American. She also just launched a new company with Meghan Klingenberg, Christen Press and Tobin Heath, so check that out!
Phyllis Galembo’s fascination with masks and ritual dress started when she was just a child trick-or-treating on the streets of her Long Island neighborhood and has taken her all over the world—to Cameron, Zambia, India, Brazil, and beyond—in the last 20 or so years. Her new book, Mexico, Masks | Rituals, brings the New York photographer closer to home, on a magical journey across the border in search of the centuries-old traditions of the indigenous and Mestizo cultures. “When I started going there in the late 1970s and early 1980s, there were no hotels in places like Tulum,” says Galembo who has vivid memories of the first fiesta she was invited to in the Riviera Maya, specifically the distinctive embroidered blouses known as huipiles worn by female revelers. “About 10 years ago around Easter time, I suddenly got this weird inkling that I really needed to go back.”
By the end of She’s Gotta Have It’s first season, back in 2017, the show’s effervescent protagonist chose to abandon the three men she’d been dating. Nola Darling, the fictional Brooklyn-based artist who animated Spike Lee’s 1986 film of the same name, had found a new love worth pursuing: the principle of honesty. “That’s why I painted The Three-Headed Monster,” she said in one of her many fourth-wall breaking monologues, referencing the collagelike painting she’d shown the men during a surprise group dinner. “It’s about the truth, and I understand, often, that is the hardest thing to get to—to land at a place where folks can find openness, candor, and frankness amongst each other.”
The night before the Billboard Music Awards in Las Vegas in May, Madonna was sitting in the arena attached to the MGM Grand hotel, staring at a double of herself. The double, who was standing on the stage many yards away, was younger and looked Asian but wore a similar lace minidress and a wig in Madonna’s current hairstyle, a ’30s movie star’s crimped blond waves. “It’s always the second person with the wig — she wants to see it,” a stage designer said, adding that when she makes a decision, she is definitive. “Madonna wants 10 options, but when she says it’s the one, it’s the one.”