I’ve been neck deep in a design project, trying to illustrate and educate just exactly what elements exemplify the SoCal cool vibes that I’ve grown to love while living here in Santa Monica.
The Bungalow is a bar that by all intensive purposes is the most beautifully decorated collection of douchery one could ever conjure. But, if you get there early on a weekday, you can enjoy a nice glass of pink wine with your sunset before its patios and porches fill up too tight, brimming with a mix of uber important biz dudes and ladies in Forever21 sweaters with floppy felt hats that barely hide consuming glares of judgement below them! *I’m sorry that I’m getting old. Kate and I have this conversation every time we go. It’s me, it’s not the crowd. They are probably all beautiful people. I’m just growing cold in my heart as I near the part of my thirties that means I must soon round up to 40.
Good lord, no wonder my Mom is hassling me to get married.
At any rate, going early to The Bungalow is the best for me. I can swim around freely to snap photos of all the lovely living vignettes that they’ve squirreled away in every nook and cranny of the old home. It’s all been converted into a lovely collection of bars and meeting spaces with lounging areas all over. I love hanging out when all of the sofas are empty and I can comfortably peruse every tschotke on each shelf.
I’ve recently described this place as such…
An aged hipster surfer dude with sun bleached curls and leathery tan skin finally returns to his California roots, after spending the last 20 years abroad… he’s built water systems in Morocco, chased some tail in Paris, he’s taught English to children in Peru, and he’s broken horses on the dude ranch on the Baja Peninsula – and now he’s returned to his boho surf shack to settle down and enjoy the items he’s collected from the lives he’s lived.
Here’s a glimpse! I wouldn’t know how to better capture of the spirit of the West Coast Southland.