Written & Photographed with the assistance of LAist Food Editor Krista Simmons
The sound system is queued up with songs about sugar, candy, and sweets. Bins brimming with wildly colored and carefully organized kinds of gummies, licorice, chocolates, and hard candies beckon. It's pretty much impossible not to smile; from the young to the young at heart, this is literally like being a kid in a candy store. This is the sweet world of Dylan's Candy Bar, in their brand new L.A. location.
A decade after opening her flagship three-story candy heaven in New York City (to give New Yorkers and visitors something to smile about post-9/11), Dylan Lauren, daughter of legendary fashion designer Ralph Lauren, is expanding her empire to L.A.'s Original Farmers' Market. In a space that Lauren has essentially curated like a candy museum, the aesthetically-savvy proprietess operates a delectable destination that represents all aspects of what is known as the "candy lifestyle."
Nostalgia-seekers will be drawn to the vintage and hard-to-find classic candies and bars (like candy cigarettes, Turkish taffy, or wax lips), while chocoholics have a plethora of flavored Dylan's branded candy bars to choose from. You can fill your bag, for $12.99 per pound, with anything from gummy pizza slices to Australian licorice sticks, or apple sours to Squirrel Nut Zippers--and just about anything else you can imagine. Forget whether the gummy sunny side up egg or the chicken feet came first; just scoop them both into your bag.
There are definitely oddities and cult-status favorites all over the shop, like the section devoted to meat flavors and items (bacon, bacon, and more bacon, with a side of pickle), the Hello Kitty section, the candies and treats for your dog, or the downright gross like gummy rats and bugs, and something called "candy farts."
While there's plenty you'll likely want to (or at least be able to) put in your mouth, not everything is edible. The shelves are stocked with candy-themed office supplies, apparel, pillows, receptacles, stationery, toys, and toiletries--all for the hardcore candy lover. And the Willy Wonka-esque paper that adorns Dylan's walls sadly does not taste like shnozberries. (Thankfully the staff advised us of this before we started licking.) But the vast majority of the store's stock is indeed a fantasyland for a sweet tooth, and every dentist's worst nightmare.
