By some strange circumstance I found myself alone in Los Angeles last summer, and it changed my life. I was sixteen-going-on-seventeen with one poorly packed suitcase, a pair of broken jelly shoes, and $200 to my name. I was staying in the guest room of my lovely family friends, Mark and Maiko, in West Hollywood under the condition that I walked their dog.
In the mornings I took acting classes, on weekends I walked to farmers markets, and in the evenings I went exploring. I quoted Clueless very quietly and very often (“Can we reschedule? I’m going to Melrose with Amber” “we’re going to Melrose”). The thing that’s interesting about L.A. is that you’re nobody, which sort of sounds scary but it was actually amazing. Sometimes when you’re in high school it gets easy to see yourself as a direct reflection of your reputation. While I was there I think that I forgot who I was for a while, or maybe I was something different entirely, but when there’s not preconceived notion of what you are, you’re kind of allowed to be nobody.
Looking back the whole thing feels like a perfect dream that couldn’t have possibly happened to me. I’m still secretly hoping that I end up back there one day. This photo diary is the weakest possible thanks I could give to the universe for my week of paradise.
*About a day into the trip, I had run out of film on my disposable camera and ended up taking these pictures with my phone, which doesn’t feel like I’m doing it the justice that it deserves, but please enjoy!