MUSINGS ON FUN HELL & AWFUL HEAVEN
To the American fashionista without a work permit to their name, they have but two coastal options to call home. New York, New York and Los Angeles California, both quintessentially American in nature could not be more different. And yet one of the few commonalities these cities share is that their residents love nothing more to hate on them. But don’t get it twisted the critiques of New Yorkers and Angelenos stem from very different feelings. Enter NY is Fun Hell and LA is Awful Heaven.
Los Angeles offers you the luxuries of life. Intertwined with its oasis façade, the weather is always perfectly hot and sunny, the city is spread just so to provide you your own room to breathe, you travel by private car from sub-luxe pop up to glimmering party, all shaded by the palms of the city. Perfectly preened influencers drift about the city as it’s cherubs, sharing perfectly curated lifestyles of boutique workout classes, green smoothies, and spa days through their phone lens. Everything is easy. Not like New York.
New York City can only be spawned from the depths of hell. The summers swelteringly hot, the winters blisteringly cold, and consistently dirty no matter the season, New York doesn’t lie about who she is. New Yorkers are crammed into tiny pre-war apartments, shuffling through the city alongside whoever and whatever on the dank, dark Subway. Even the city’s most fashionable look intentionally unkempt, perfectly aligned with their photo dump aesthetic, in 300$ torn mesh tanks, and workwear pants 4 sizes too big. And yet, amongst it all, New York has character and excitement that any true resident wouldn’t trade for the world.
Amongst the chaos of the city is community, in contrast to the isolation of LA’s personal space. While LA seems to be brimming with everyday comfort, this comfort comes hand in hand with isolation, platitudes, and falseness. LA is a big movie set that seems heavenly from the outset, but to live in it is shit. New York, on the other hand, is a hassle, a hustle, a constant uphill battle financially, socially, mentally. And while the city seems like hell incarnate, it never ceases to be exciting, to be fun.
The yoga sets of Los Angeles are comfy and accessible, yet meaningless. The Eckhaus Latta girlies of New York are fashionably out of their minds, trading their monthly grocery budget for a crop top, but they keep it fun and fresh. The bicoastal capitals of America have nearly nothing in common—save for the fact that they’re living and breathing contradiction. I’ll see u in hell xx
