It took me a few years to appreciate LA, mostly because of the sun EVERY DAY (I am kind of a coat and boots girl), the gluten-free stuff, the no-smoking rules and the terrible lack of cute little coffees. So, nothing really serious, as you can see. However, there’s one thing that I’ve always appreciated: being part of a huge cosmopolitan community. A city with so many different colors, languages, cultures…that makes every neighborhood different and unique. Where I can speak with my broken english, but hey, it’s not a big deal, because we’ve all been new to the city at one point.
I can only support this new fashion line LA IMMIGRANT, to claim how proud I am to be part of the LA community, as a French-Italian (and who knows what else) girl. Although it’s a liiiiiittle Anti-Trump, it’s above all a love declaration to the city of Angels. Get your own, LA lovers!
“LOVE POEM TO LOS ANGELES”
To say I love Los Angeles is to say
I love its shadows and night lights,
its meandering streets,
the stretch of sunset-colored beaches.
It’s to say I love the squawking wild parrots,
the palm trees that fail to topple in robust winds,
that within a half hour of L.A.’s center
you can cavort in snow, deserts, mountains, beaches.
Layers of history reach deep,
run red, scarring the soul of the city,
a land where Chinese were lynched,
Mexican resistance fighters hounded,
workers and immigrants exploited,
Japanese removed to concentration camps,
blacks forced from farmlands in the South,
then segregated, diminished.
Here also are blessed native lands,
where first peoples like the Tataviam and Tongva
bonded with nature’s gifts;
people of peace, deep stature, loving hands.
Yet for all my love
I also abhor the “poison” time,
starting with Spanish settlers, the Missions,
where 80 percent of natives
who lived and worked in them died,
to the ruthless murder of Indians
during and after the Gold Rush,
the worst slaughter of tribes in the country.
From all manner of uprisings,
a city of acceptance began to emerge.
This is “riot city” after all—
more civil disturbances in Los Angeles
in the past hundred years
than any other city…
L.A. is also lovers’ embraces,
the most magnificent lies,
the largest commercial ports,
a sound that hybridized
black, Mexican, as well as Asian
and white migrant cultures.
You wouldn’t have musicians like
Ritchie Valens, The Doors, War,
Los Lobos, Charles Wright &
the Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band,
Hiroshima, Motley Crue, NWA, or Quetzal
without Los Angeles.
Or John Fante, Chester Himes, Charles Bukowski,
Marisela Norte, and Wanda Coleman as its jester poets.
– Luis J. Rodriguez