Why LA over New York or San Francisco? Of those three fab cities, LA would be my last pick. What do you love about it?
Ah, yes. New York. Los Angeles. San Francisco. The three most fashionable tribes, each with their own unique rituals, mythologies, and standards of beauty.
We are tribal creatures, after all. It’s not the most evolved part of the human condition, but you can’t deny the anthropology of it. No matter how worldly and well traveled we may be, in the end we can each only belong to one.
I am of the Los Angeles tribe.
I love everything about New York. I spend as much time as possible in San Francisco. They are indeed fabulous, but neither one vibrates at the frequency of my soul. Only Los Angeles gets the harmonics right.
Being drawn to LA is a mysterious thing. It’s palpable, but totally indescribable. Steve Martin tried to explain it once, and he ended up making a delightful little movie. Still, it’s only something you can hint at without sounding like a lunatic.
Ultimately, there are no words. No list of most-treasured LA moments could ever get to the root of why I belong here. I just do, and I always have.
Not that I want to sound sentimental, because all the negative shit is true too.
Los Angeles is filthy and far too casual and filled with cruel and superficial customs. If you show weakness or disrespect this town will eat you alive, but fuck it. I don’t care.
I’m hopelessly in love with Los Angeles. It still makes me weak in the knees.