Tag Archives: Los Angeles

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The Fabric Of Our Lives

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

I love clothes and how people choose to express themselves through adornment. One of my favorite past times is to look through the glossy pages of a fashion magazine and dive into Pinterest blogs on fashion. One day, feeling completely inspired and like I wanted to immerse myself in that world, I headed out to the fabric district in Los Angeles. The fabric district is really part of the Fashion District, but it’s a whole world on to itself, so I really think of it as it’s own district-no matter what the city of Los Angeles says.

I drove into Los Angeles and splurged on great parking. The parking was on a rooftop and just across the street from one of the oldest and most prestigious fabric shops, Michael Levine. It was great being in the middle of the whole scene and convenient too. Pedestrians, cars, vans, motorbikes and city buses moved quickly to avoid colliding. There were several blocks where every corner and the spaces in between contained a multitude of fabric stores. There were fabrics of every color and type imaginable. The prices were amazing and the shopowners were out to bargain. It was not a place to be shy. The fabrics were works of art. Every weave imaginable was represented. There were beautiful and glorious pieces with beading and flowers that shimmered in the light.

It was a world filled with color. A Kaliedescope of various hues. The possibilities were infinite. It made me think of how our world is lit by the sun. Each morning, light greets the world and illuminates our space and creates a stage. The colors of the rainbow that are reflected in beams of light influence human mood and energy.

Photo by malcolm lightbody on Unsplash

Through science we’ve learned to understand the meaning of light and color and apply what we’ve learned in traditional scientific medicine as well as holistic and ancient medicines. Therapy utilizing light and color can be implemented on a very basic level and artists have known this for ages. Famous artists have expounded on the life giving benefits of light and color for centuries. Physicians as far back as the Renaisance implemented light therapy. The oldest spiritual guides and texts direct the human flock to follow the light, that God is light. The path to Nirvana is filled with light and color which serve as milestones for various levels of enlightenment.

I headed into Michael Levine’s, which had been there since the 1940’s. Groups of people milled about discussing projects and making plans. The employees were skilled and answered my questions quickly and with in-depth knowledge of the product. They seemed to have a good eye for serious buyers and creatives that frequented the district to make their livelihoods. There was an air of seriousness and intent hovering over the scene. Creativity danced about the space, seeming to be shooting everywhere, from so many people that had come to this industrial, but beautiful space to realize their dreams.

Photo by Brunel Johnson on Unsplash

There were designers comparing fabrics and discussing building a line of fashion for the next season, people picking out small accoutrements to add to their creations such a flowers buttons and beads and moms with their daughters picking out fabric for possibly a prom dress. It was completely open and comfortable with a sense of purpose. I soaked it in and stored it away for future inspiration.

Next, I headed across the street and up a flight of stairs into a worn warehouse smudged with grease, dirt, graffiti and possibly anything that had been flung at it by humans and machinery. About three flights up was the remnant store for Michael Levine. It was a great spot filled with fabric ends. You could fill a bag for just one dollar. It was quieter here with fewer customers. I toured the space, sizing up what was offered and realized what a great opportunity it was to be creative on a smaller budget. I filled up a bag and then was on my way.

Before I headed back to my car, I stopped in a few of the smaller shops that were jam packed with gorgeous fabrics from around the world. I spoke with one of the sales guys, who was super friendly and ready to make a deal. After scoping out the district and experiencing the excitement of the area, I felt that I had got what I came for and even more. I headed back to my car feeling that it had been an amazing day well worth the drive that took about an hour on a Saturday morning from the Inland Empire.

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The Flea

Headed out to the Rose Bowl Flea last weekend. It was a glorious Southern California Winter day. The Air was crisp and cool and the sun shone clear through blue skies. Fluffy white clouds floated overhead and drifted on the light breezes. The drive was uneventful with just about three slow and goes on the interstate, but the drive was worth it. I arrived on Seco Street and pulled into the line that led to parking. Once the line moved and I was positioned to enter parking, I was able to cut across the green expanse of lawn and find a great space fairly close to the entrance. The grass was soggy from the past weeks of bountiful rain and mud oozed through where heavy cars and trucks had pulled in and down the rows to find the best parking. The Rose Bowl; designed by the great architect Myron Hunt and completed in 1922, rose above the tents and flags. A white coliseum for modern gladiators. A huge neon rose embelished the cement facade. It’s proportions were perfect and graceful and the building was set out at the base of the canyon in the center of nature. Those architects of the newly settled California had loved nature and sought to place their creations within the center of it.

I got my umbrella for shade and my bag for any goodies I might find and marched up to buy my ticket. The venue was filled with people out for an exciting and fun day filled with anticipation. People were out to explore and to look for vintage treasure and funky clothes that you could only find at a Los Angeles flea market. Just watching my fellow human kind was entertainment enough. We humans came in so many shapes and sizes, personalities and characters. People were dressed in all kinds of gear. A couple; impossibly thin and chic ambled by dressed to the tee in Rockabilly style. Their outfits consisted of matching rolled Levis, studded belts and immaculate western shirts. There were gorgeous women who looked like they had just hiked out Laurel Canyon. Their skin pale and untanned, long flowing tresses with the perfect California beach wave, they walked slowly and floated in their patterned skirts and peasant tops. A seven foot cellist in black combat boots with four inch platforms and a kilt had stationed himself in front of the bowl. He serenaded the crowds with futuristic and dramatic compositions that echoed through the canyon walls.

I wandered around, the sun beating against my parasol, the heat settling into my shoulders. Vintage was everywhere and it was more than enough to make for at least two full days of shopping. Thousands of items, each with it’s own unique history and so many stories to tell. The fact that it was so much, created the atmosphere of treasure hunt that could be relished and allowed to slowly unfold. It was a perfect day in nature, a perfect day for relaxing and letting history emerge and entertain.