Of all the neighborhoods in Los Angeles, Los Feliz is my favorite. It is best known as the equally as hipster but somewhat more gentrified next-door neighbor of the ever-trendy Silver Lake, and I discovered the area shortly after learning to drive. It was love at first sight.
Charming Spanish-style bungalows from the 1920s line the blocks up until the business district, which is chock full of funky vintage stores, used vinyl shops, old brick buildings and food options from Greek to Brazilian.
The neighborhood is nestled directly at the base of Griffith Park (the largest municipal park in the country – take that New York), and the famed Griffith Observatory can be seen easily from the streets.
But it’s not just the food, shopping or proximity to interesting places that make Los Feliz unique. The energy is young and creative, and it’s clear that people from all over the city flock there for the neighborhood’s charm and relaxed vibe. There are multiple bookstores, record stores, arts and crafts stores – it’s intellectual and funky at the same time, in a way that Venice can’t quite match. Los Feliz is like the anti-Brentwood: There’s not a Range Rover soccer mom for miles.
As a native Angeleno, I like to consider myself somewhat of an expert on this city’s ins and outs. You can’t learn this city in a day or even a year. But if you have a free afternoon to spend exploring anywhere across town, make it Los Feliz. You won’t be sorry.
On the east side of North Vermont Avenue, just south of Franklin Avenue, there’s an unusual patch of sidewalk.
Imbedded in the concrete are a random assortment of keys, door locks, a fork, a knife and an imprint of where a spoon used to be. In the middle, the number “62” has been scrawled into the cement by hand.
The number isn’t random, of course. It’s referencing the eclectic diner not even 3 feet away: Fred 62.
Colloquially known as Fred’s, you can’t miss it as you walk into the heart of Los Feliz – the restaurant is painted a vibrant green with garish orange awnings.
Austin Yu
/ Daily Bruin
Inside, a somewhat less neon – though no less eccentric – world awaits. Retro booths and a classic diner countertop are nestled comfortably beneath funky ‘60s light fixtures. There’s even a window seat where patrons can sit on cushions and look out at passersby while chowing down on onion rings.
Open 24 hours a day, seven days a week since 1997, Fred’s is the stalwart companion of 3 a.m. diners and 2 p.m. brunchers. Breakfast, lunch and dinner are served round the clock.
The food is good but also cheap, which makes it dangerous. I have, on more than one occasion, ordered french toast, fries and mac ‘n cheese in a single sitting.
The food is funny too. Breakfast sandwiches have names like “The Sammy Davis Jr.” (smoked salmon, scrambled eggs, cream cheese and hash browns, $12) and “The Berkeley” (goat cheese, avocado, scrambled eggs and hash browns, $9), while dinner specials include “The Partridge Family” (pan-fried chicken with mashed potatoes and a mini waffle, $16) and “The Lisa Simpson” (a tajine tofu scramble with couscous, $13).
Scattered across the walls in Fred’s are a number of framed paintings, almost of all of which were done by notable Angeleno artist and set designer Wayne White of “Pee-wee’s Playhouse” fame. The paintings are landscapes with giant phrases painted over them in block lettering.
Even at 2 p.m., people around me were ordering breakfast. An elderly couple at a nearby table was grilling the waiter on what exactly “Eggs in the Hole” ($9) is – as it turns out, it’s a piece of toast with the center cut out and an egg cooked inside.
Directly next door to Fred’s is the paragon of quirky stores, Popkiller Dept.
A small storefront jam-packed with merchandise, it houses a wide array of vintage clothes and cute jewelry. I once managed to snag a Pope John Paul II crop top there as a Christmas gift for a friend.
But among the vintage lie gag gifts – funny random trinkets and objects that no one really needs, but are amusing to have just the same. Purses shaped like hamburgers, pasta shaped like breasts, a piece of plastic you put in with your toast that makes an imprint of Jesus – you name it, Popkiller has it. They also have an unusually wide array of plastic animal head masks.
Austin Yu
/ Daily Bruin
Down the block is the Los Feliz 3 Cinemas, which has been showing movies daily since 1934. It has a beautiful vintage neon marquee and a giant mural of famous actors on the side. The theaters are intimate and charming, and when I saw “Slumdog Millionaire” there I cried so hysterically that two employees heard me from outside and came in to make sure I was okay (seriously).
But past the cinema lies the neighborhood’s greatest gem. As one of the last independent bookstores in the city, Skylight Books is a sight for sore eyes.
Austin Yu
/ Daily Bruin
Opened in 1996, in what was even then a declining climate for small bookstores, Skylight Books is a delightful relic. It has a homeyness that neither Barnes & Noble nor Amazon can recreate.
The bookshelves are filled with current bestsellers and classics, but there’s a special section devoted to LGBT and feminist literature, as well as a whole area for books about Los Angeles. In the midst of shelves and shelves of books is a live tree growing in the middle of the store near the eponymous skylight.
The tree, which has been growing since the store opened, was the brainchild of one of the original partners, who insisted on having a special circular bench built around its base so that customers could sit and enjoy the atmosphere, said Kerry Slattery, the general manager and co-owner.
Austin Yu
/ Daily Bruin
“A lot of people, even though they’ve been in the store, don’t register that there’s a live tree in the middle,” Slattery added.
But no visit to Skylight Books would be complete without meeting the bookstore cat. Known as Franny, the adorable tabby is actually the second cat to call the store home, Slattery said. She even has an Instagram (@frannyskylight), where you can catch glimpses of the bookstore from her point of view.
About a five-minute walk away (or a two-minute drive if you’re as lazy as I am), is Hillhurst Avenue, which boasts a number of lovely restaurants and shops. The street was even the site of Dumb Starbucks, the parody store that was open briefly earlier this year.
On the west side of the street, just north of Franklin Avenue, is Alcove Café and Bakery.
The restaurant is cozy and inviting, with a red brick exterior and trendy but tasteful indoor style. However, it’s the charming patio that makes the experience worth it – whether you sit on the front patio or the side, both are littered with greenery and eclectic furniture.
Although it serves breakfast, lunch and dinner (all of which are delicious), it’s the baked goods and beverages that keep you coming back. Any of the chocolate cakes are outrageously rich, though I decided to sample the fresh fruit tart and a chai latte this time.
The biggest challenge in Los Feliz is not the distance from campus, but rather the parking. Here are my secrets:
When parking on North Vermont Avenue, there is a public metered city lot on the side street directly next to Fred 62 (Russell Avenue). That’s your best bet, though there is street parking on the residential streets nearby. Be careful though, the signs are tricky and parking enforcement lies in wait. On Hillhurst Avenue, you can splurge for valet at Alcove Café and Bakery ($5), or go north a block and park in the Albertsons lot next to The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf. Do not park in any of the bank lots, because they’re eager to tow, even after hours. Otherwise, any sort of metered parking will do.