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Oh God, Vogue Has Officially Discovered Highland Park
(Photo by Michael Locke via the LAist Featured Photos pool on Flickr)
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Ugh. The Short Stop has gotten so busy lately. And there's all these wannabes from the west side cramping up the photobooth—you just want to shout "go back to The Bungalow!" What happened to Echo Park? Remember when the graffiti still made your mom worried about gang activity, rather than advertising the new album by [insert underground indie band]? Echo Park is just as bougie as Silver Lake, now. The old Save A Lot is a Lassen's, for god's sake. There's even a goddamn cactus store—as in, a whole store dedicated to selling cacti. What am I supposed to gentrify now? Luckily, Highland Park is still pretty cool. There's still only one third-wave coffee shop and indie record store per block. What's that: Vogue just discovered Highland Park? UGH!
That's right, the mother of all glossy magazines (and matriarch of the Condé Nast family) is hip to the Highland Park cool. The suits over in Lower Manhattan have deemed the Northeast Los Angeles neighborhood 'clean' enough to broadcast its existence to the world.
A walk down Highland Park’s Figueroa Street on a sunny Sunday afternoon reveals the Northeast Los Angeles neighborhood’s glorious mix: Mid-century modern furnishings spill out the front doors of antique shops; elote vendors sit at curbs across from record stores, hair salons, and pour-over coffee shops; groups of friends linger over brunch cocktails.
Is "elote vendors" code for the vibrant Hispanic and Chicano community that has lived in Highland Park for decades and is slowly (or quickly) getting pushed out by rising rents?
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Vogue then points to the Highland Park Bowl as a glimpse "of the neighborhood’s past and present," (really? not The Greyhound?) before adding this little jewel of insight:
Back in those Prohibition days, it housed a doctor’s office and pharmacy so revelers could, in classic California style, obtain booze for “medical reasons.”
How cute, Vogue—only Californians partook in breaking Prohibition-era drinking laws, and decriminalized marijuana before deeming it safe for, and worthy of, recreational use. But go on, you were making some tired point about Highland Park?
After shopping, recharge at Mr. Holmes Bakehouse, home of the cruffin and an Instagram-bait “I got baked in Los Angeles” sign. Or stop by Kindness & Mischief, an indie coffee shop with unique offerings like the Kindness (sweetened condensed coconut milk, cinnamon, espresso, and steamed milk), which tastes “like a churro,” one friendly barista insisted.
Well, I guess this is Vogue after all. I'm just curious why Tierra Mia Coffee (literally two blocks over from Kindness & Mischief) didn't get a shoutout, or even Antigua Bread and Bakery (a full 780 feet away from Mr. Holmes).
Get ready, Lincoln Heights: you're next.
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