Venice Beach calls for perfect black wide-leg jumpsuits, and my worn-in and well-traveled Marfa hat. Easy pieces that I’ve grabbed from my suitcase and what was left in my LA closet. That, along with your trusty leather backpack for casually stooping on a sidewalk off Abbot Kinney. My visit is never complete without gigs in the garage, and a drunken afternoon at Gjelina’s. Pizza just one way to soak up wherever we left our head the night before. Speeding off on the 405 to Sam Smith’s LA-LA-LA without a care in the world.