Pomona

While vacationing in Los Angeles I had the pleasure of discovering the joys of a little town called Pomona nestled in the San Bernadino valley. It was a brief respite from the endless sprawls of beige suburbs and shopping centers. The town is named after the greek goddess of fruit, and seems like the last bastion for a very vintage feeling L.A.




Our first stop was a thrift shop where Jillian had spotted a blue negligee a week earlier. She was thrilled when she found it still hanging on the rack, I was less than thrilled when she found a jumpsuit that she insisted I try on.





Now, I can't say I've ever wanted to work at a thrift store, filled with crying children, elevator music, and cheap people; but there was something about the merchandising of the 'expensive' section that made me want to throw my decorative skills down. So many delicate tea sets, mini reproductions of odd artwork, and strange dolls.






Next up was 'second street' a cluster of shops and stores contained in an arts colony. It was that part of a town that looks like its dying--the last gritty bits of a place that has given way to the Super Targets of America.





The highlight of second street was a little vintage boutique called La Bomba--filled with the kind of fodder that hipsters in New York would kill to have. I picked up a gorgeous little cowboy shirt, all grey and blue stripes with just enough ruffle.





- some deadstock shoes my friend paid 300$ for in NYC---125$ in LA.