La Brea, the Home Design District of L.A.
When Angelenos or visitors to L.A. think of La Brea Avenue, they typically conjure the Tar Pits ("la brea" means "tar"), vintage shops like Jet Rag, High Voltage Tattoo/L.A. Ink, or the ever-convenient Target at the West Hollywood Gateway.
But what characterizes La Brea, for me, are the design stores, ably competing with the Robertson area but not awash in starfuckers. Diamond Foam and Fabric is Los Angeles Magazine's top fabric-buying experience, and the street also houses ultra-modern Cantoni and the origins of organic furniture at Robert Craymer Green, to name a few.
I have a new favorite, in Algabar. I first visited for the most recent Charlie Bidwell artist's reception, and I went back today in hopes that the work was still hung (it is, and will rotate a little in the coming months).
Algabar, I soon learned, is more than a home furnishings store. When I entered, co-owner Gail Baral greeted me (as did Remy, her fluffy smoke-colored dog). She had just finished making iced tea, and asked if I would like some (yes, I did, thank you).
I remembered the immaculately blended cocktails from Charlie's reception (this coming from someone who prefers imported beer or vodka-rocks), and, well, she made those, too.
Fiona Apple played, a designer-friend visited (coincidentally, I pass his showroom every day at work), and I browsed and conversed like I never have at a Crate & Barrel.
I have never been more comfortable in a home furnishings store; I truly felt at home in the black-and-white-themed retreat.
The store features furniture found on buying trips as well as original designs; exotic teas; kettles, trays, mixing and serving instruments; vases, soaps, and scents; and any little piece to help turn your abode into your soothing place.
My most interesting finds included candles and incense from Marriage Frerès (I thought they just made tea!), as well as the Parfum Lucifer series of candles by Damien Bash.
When I winced a little at the Sin candle's $80.00+ price tag, Gail didn't make me feel like the poor 23-year-old I am. Instead, she reminded me that we were all where I am. As you may have heard, Los Angeles is pretty fucked-up. Peaceful living in this city is about finding your balance, stumbling upon pockets of the city that you instantly adore, and I found one today on an impromptu visit to 342 South La Brea.
While the products hail from Morocco, Japan, the Far East, France...all are displayed in a neat American sense of comfort. Gail's buying trips are based on instinct, and she has very, very good taste, whether or not you love greyscale as much as I do.
Algabar recently scored a deal with the new, luxe Montage Hotel on Canon Drive in Beverly Hills. Their teas from around the world will be prominently featured. Garal ensures that each has a personal touch: she names them herself, and that's all part of the fun of putting a little effort into your breaktime (hint: use a meat thermometer to make sure the tea is infused at the perfect temperature, which she gladly tells you).
I find it important to remind that I purchased nothing (my id was asleep or something...), but Gail gave me about two hours of her time to talk about the store, tea (I had never met an oenophile of the kind), designing for the self. It's definitely worth at least one visit, and, uniquely, they are open on Sundays.
I'm going back soon, to see more of Charlie's work in its intended size (I will have that someday, too), and I won't be able to leave alone.
Algabar
342 South La Brea Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90036
T: 323.954.9720 . F: 323.954.9721
http://www.algabar.com/ . http://www.algabarstore.com/
__________
Coming eventually:
01. I will review one of the restaurants nearby, probably Ca Brea.
02. a bunch of writing about Los Feliz.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
052
From MSNBC.com: What the ...? N.C. offers new license plates
This is not offensive. "WTF?" or "What the fuck?", for those of us who can handle occasional lack of censorship, is totally benign in this context. Language can cause emotional harm, yes. But the "fuck" word does not hold much gravity to offend. It carries no awful stigma, particularly as part of "WTF?".
"WTF?" is a phrase to convey confusion, disappointment, indifference, and/or surprise. Not hatred or ignorance. It does not call to action ("Go to hell," "Kiss my ass," "Vote Pro-Life"), nor does the "fuck" word, on its own or as the ending of "What the...", degrade or refer to any ethnic, gender, or racial group who could take offense. It refers to sexual intercourse, and so do most episodes of Friends, Seinfeld, and probably much of NBC's programming in the 1990s.
"What the fuck?" may not be appropriate as part of a wedding vow or a dinnertime conversation with new girlfriend/boyfriend's parents, but it simply does not create harm. Dick Cheney has used "Go fuck yourself" on the Senate floor, and coming from someone I don't list as a role model, I still don't think he violated whatever sanctity the Senate floor is supposed to have. I think Patrick Leahy would rather hear that than be part of the anthrax scare of several years ago. Unless he thought Cheney and he were a perfect pair to replace Walter Mattheau and Jack Lemmon for The Absolutely Fucking Grumpiest Old Men Ever. I'd rent that.
So what's the point of wasting money to change this on North Carolina license plates? Are they going to pay to replace "BBW" on license plates, too? I think god forgives license plates.
The apparently contentious phrase is, perhaps ironically, my typical reaction to such abject silliness. But maybe I'm just mature/immature.
Balls.
This is not offensive. "WTF?" or "What the fuck?", for those of us who can handle occasional lack of censorship, is totally benign in this context. Language can cause emotional harm, yes. But the "fuck" word does not hold much gravity to offend. It carries no awful stigma, particularly as part of "WTF?".
"WTF?" is a phrase to convey confusion, disappointment, indifference, and/or surprise. Not hatred or ignorance. It does not call to action ("Go to hell," "Kiss my ass," "Vote Pro-Life"), nor does the "fuck" word, on its own or as the ending of "What the...", degrade or refer to any ethnic, gender, or racial group who could take offense. It refers to sexual intercourse, and so do most episodes of Friends, Seinfeld, and probably much of NBC's programming in the 1990s.
"What the fuck?" may not be appropriate as part of a wedding vow or a dinnertime conversation with new girlfriend/boyfriend's parents, but it simply does not create harm. Dick Cheney has used "Go fuck yourself" on the Senate floor, and coming from someone I don't list as a role model, I still don't think he violated whatever sanctity the Senate floor is supposed to have. I think Patrick Leahy would rather hear that than be part of the anthrax scare of several years ago. Unless he thought Cheney and he were a perfect pair to replace Walter Mattheau and Jack Lemmon for The Absolutely Fucking Grumpiest Old Men Ever. I'd rent that.
So what's the point of wasting money to change this on North Carolina license plates? Are they going to pay to replace "BBW" on license plates, too? I think god forgives license plates.
The apparently contentious phrase is, perhaps ironically, my typical reaction to such abject silliness. But maybe I'm just mature/immature.
Balls.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
050
FROM RUSSIA WITH FLUFF
From the country that gave us t.A.T.u, Kira Plastinina may crank the Mother Country’s girly volume to 11.
Designed by the 15-year-old, Kira’s collection mixes and matches at will. Her designs span the gamut from mod-simple to outlandish. A boatneck tunic and bubble dresses mix with a sequin suspender dress and the requisite military-style jacket—for girls, of course.
Six new bright boutiques are opening this spring in L.A., including on swanky Robertson Boulevard, the mall-swanky Beverly Center, Beverly Drive, Topanga Canyon, and the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica. Others are slated to open in Las Vegas, New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut.
But it’s not all an explosion of id. The boutiques are carefully joyous so as not to overwhelm their clientele’s arm candy. And though the shops are bathed in pink and white [and pink], there is something girls and guys alike can appreciate: the clothes and accessories won't break the bank.
http://www.kiraplastinina.com.
From the country that gave us t.A.T.u, Kira Plastinina may crank the Mother Country’s girly volume to 11.
Designed by the 15-year-old, Kira’s collection mixes and matches at will. Her designs span the gamut from mod-simple to outlandish. A boatneck tunic and bubble dresses mix with a sequin suspender dress and the requisite military-style jacket—for girls, of course.
Six new bright boutiques are opening this spring in L.A., including on swanky Robertson Boulevard, the mall-swanky Beverly Center, Beverly Drive, Topanga Canyon, and the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica. Others are slated to open in Las Vegas, New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut.
But it’s not all an explosion of id. The boutiques are carefully joyous so as not to overwhelm their clientele’s arm candy. And though the shops are bathed in pink and white [and pink], there is something girls and guys alike can appreciate: the clothes and accessories won't break the bank.
http://www.kiraplastinina.com.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
048
From the Men.Style.com newsletter:
Richard Branson's new Swiss digs.
The nine-bedroom chalet now offers guests access to 250 miles' worth of ski runs, chauffeur service, and even a private ice-skating rink, as well as the usual amenities (fireplaces, Jacuzzis, 50-inch plasmas).
If I'm paying to stay at Richard Branson's Swiss chalet (and I'm not), the last thing I want in my room is a television of any kind. At 35,250 euros per week, I don't care if the chauffeur walks out of the picture to cater to you; no one should think about television in this kind of place, be it in southwestern Switzerland or West Virginia.
Richard Branson's new Swiss digs.
The nine-bedroom chalet now offers guests access to 250 miles' worth of ski runs, chauffeur service, and even a private ice-skating rink, as well as the usual amenities (fireplaces, Jacuzzis, 50-inch plasmas).
If I'm paying to stay at Richard Branson's Swiss chalet (and I'm not), the last thing I want in my room is a television of any kind. At 35,250 euros per week, I don't care if the chauffeur walks out of the picture to cater to you; no one should think about television in this kind of place, be it in southwestern Switzerland or West Virginia.
Friday, December 28, 2007
047
Bad Ads
A short, pleasantly biased review of four pervasive advertising campaigns
BoConcept
The ads: BoConcept adorns their advertisements with phrases ending in "don't blame us."
An example: "If you think a chair can't turn heads, don't blame us."
The desired effect: Those in charge at BoConcept probably think that these ads exude confidence in their products' quality and affordability, that the air of confidence is sexy and alluring.
The problem: It makes the store sound like a bitchy absentee parent, which is not the vibe anyone wants in their home.
Washington Mutual
The ads: WaMu was ranked highest in the West and Midwest regions for customer satisfaction in retail banking by J.D. Power and Associates.
The desired effect: WaMu is proud of this honor, and they want to uphold the standard they have set for themselves. Customers can also expect great service from a company when their customer service award is plastered everywhere.
The problem: While thanking their customers for making them number one, WaMu pimps this award like they're Archbishop Don "Magic" Juan. Show more, tell less.
Dolce and Gabbana
The ads: Find the print ones yourself; it's more fun that way. Or check http://eng.dolcegabbana.it for the English-language version of their web site.
The desired effect: Glossy homo-erotic intrigue? I don't even know.
The problem: See above.
Jared, the Galleria of Tewlery
The ads: A string of creepy and/or pompous motherfuckers gasping to each other "He went to Jared!" "He went to Jared!" "He went to Jared!"
The desired effect: Everyone will want to bone the guy who went to Jared for his wife/fiancé/whatever's ring. Everyone will then wish that they/their husband/fiancée/whatever had the same elegant idea to go to Jared.
An example, which is also the problem: The settings are very formal events, things like galas, receptions, upscale cocktail parties. All of the characters place different emphasis on the line they deliver in series, like they're playing telephone with something shoved up their asses, and the whole thing makes you want to pee in their drinks Fight Club-style.
These companies are their best when they keep things simple:
. WaMu's customer service really is excellent, with friendly associates who have been cool to me from day one and no stewpid extraneous charges.
. D&G's products speak for themselves. I can't afford them, but they're cool, mostly, I think.
. And BoConcept's approach of customization and tailoring your purchase to your needs is exactly what design should be: individual.
. Jared, as you may guess, can totally blow himself. This company is putrid.
A short, pleasantly biased review of four pervasive advertising campaigns
BoConcept
The ads: BoConcept adorns their advertisements with phrases ending in "don't blame us."
An example: "If you think a chair can't turn heads, don't blame us."
The desired effect: Those in charge at BoConcept probably think that these ads exude confidence in their products' quality and affordability, that the air of confidence is sexy and alluring.
The problem: It makes the store sound like a bitchy absentee parent, which is not the vibe anyone wants in their home.
Washington Mutual
The ads: WaMu was ranked highest in the West and Midwest regions for customer satisfaction in retail banking by J.D. Power and Associates.
The desired effect: WaMu is proud of this honor, and they want to uphold the standard they have set for themselves. Customers can also expect great service from a company when their customer service award is plastered everywhere.
The problem: While thanking their customers for making them number one, WaMu pimps this award like they're Archbishop Don "Magic" Juan. Show more, tell less.
Dolce and Gabbana
The ads: Find the print ones yourself; it's more fun that way. Or check http://eng.dolcegabbana.it for the English-language version of their web site.
The desired effect: Glossy homo-erotic intrigue? I don't even know.
The problem: See above.
Jared, the Galleria of Tewlery
The ads: A string of creepy and/or pompous motherfuckers gasping to each other "He went to Jared!" "He went to Jared!" "He went to Jared!"
The desired effect: Everyone will want to bone the guy who went to Jared for his wife/fiancé/whatever's ring. Everyone will then wish that they/their husband/fiancée/whatever had the same elegant idea to go to Jared.
An example, which is also the problem: The settings are very formal events, things like galas, receptions, upscale cocktail parties. All of the characters place different emphasis on the line they deliver in series, like they're playing telephone with something shoved up their asses, and the whole thing makes you want to pee in their drinks Fight Club-style.
These companies are their best when they keep things simple:
. WaMu's customer service really is excellent, with friendly associates who have been cool to me from day one and no stewpid extraneous charges.
. D&G's products speak for themselves. I can't afford them, but they're cool, mostly, I think.
. And BoConcept's approach of customization and tailoring your purchase to your needs is exactly what design should be: individual.
. Jared, as you may guess, can totally blow himself. This company is putrid.
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