This article by Tasbeeh Herwees originally appeared on her No Bad Days Substack, and is republished here with her permission. As we previously reported, Lazy Acres will soon be opening its first Westside store in Mar Vista, replacing the Whole Foods previously located at the southeast corner of National and Barrington.
Los Feliz didn’t need another grocery store when Lazy Acres Natural Market opened its sixth California location on the corner of Franklin*1 and Western, right across the street from Immaculate Heart. Though not quite technically in Los Feliz, it’s close enough to pose a challenge to the neighborhood’s other grocers—Lassen’s, Albertson’s, Ralph’s, and Jon’s—not to mention the handful of small Thai and Armenian markets, which offer produce at a significant discount, that also sit on the wealthy neighborhood’s borders.
That didn’t stop the Santa Monica-based organic grocer, acquired by Bristol Farms in 2005 (which explains the presence of “The Cookie” in its stores, an Bristol Farms bakery item, which has its own obsessive fanbase) from becoming very popular, very quick. In the few short years since it first opened its doors, Lazy Acres has acquired a cult-like following—even among celebrities. Angelina Jolie, Colin Farrell, Troye Sivan, among many, many others have been seen strolling through the bright aisles.
If I mention to the common person, however, that I live around the corner from there, I get one of two reactions: “I LOVE Lazy Acres” or “I don’t what that is.”
“Lazy Acres was expertly concocted in a board room to be a perfect mix of the beloved co-ops and health food stores from time gone by aaaaand a whole foods,” Vanessa Anderson, aka the Grocery Goblin, texts me. “it scratches the itch of juice, of sprouts, of almond butter machine, but you can also get the conventional stuff in one shop (except don’t even think about buying paper towels, very high threadcount and price to match). it’s also clean and gigantic.”
Anderson is a professed hater, but that leaves her in the minority—at least, among the people I’ve talked to. “I’m a Lazy Acres fanatic,” Brandon Veloria, the proprietor of vintage clothing store James Veloria (whose Chinatown LA outpost closed last year), texts me from New York. “It’s basically why I moved to LA for 2.5 years.”
Last year, their brand even staged a photo shoot at the grocery for their collaboration with vintage activewear brand Rummage Stretch.
“In NY we’re hauling heavy groceries on the train praying the handles don’t break,” Brandon later writes to me over email. “But in LA it feels like something fun and easy. I wanted to shoot something that conveyed the fantasy LA fantasy of an easy breezy life.”
Lazy Acres furnishes that fantasy. The produce is stacked in appealing configurations, the fruit ripe and unblemished, the greens vibrant and lush, glittering with dew drops. The well-provisioned vitamin section promises a healthy, lengthy life, glowing skin, a robust gut biome, restful sleep—the kind of life you’d have if you had it altogether. The prices are expensive—but not Erewhon-expensive, making its small luxuries slightly more accessible and justifiable for the person with a budget.
“I try to focus on items I wouldn’t get at the usual grocery store. This is also how I justify the price. Lying to yourself is okay if you walked to buy nondairy yogurt,” says writer Hannah Benson, of Baby Dancer who lives in the neighborhood, and runs into her friends and neighbors there frequently. She’s also a frequent visitor of the hot bar—she was one of many people who mentioned, by name, the Mary’s chicken coconut chicken tenders.
“I live and die by [the] tenders,” says screenwriter and former resident of the neighborhood Hayley Barnes. “I believe you can buy them in the prepared foods section, but I’d argue they only truly ‘hit’ when taken directly from the hot bar. They also aren’t always available, which adds to the mystique and power.”
The Grocery Goblin would disagree. “do not talk to me about that hot bar!!!!” Vanessa texted me. “it is not good!!! whole foods hot bar is better than that!!!! the idea that one cannot get a co-op hot food bar plate in East LA is like, horrible!! Have we forgotten our roots?! is the source family legacy like dead?!”
The people, she says, simply yearn for a co-op. “The east side needs a co-op, it’s completely insane that we don’t have one,” says Anderson. “I know it’s challenging. But i grew up going to a co-op, i shopped at one in college, they make your life better lol, that model allows for the grocery to be something it’s supposed to be, a real community center.”
Maybe the feel-good vibes in there are capable of scrambling your sense of taste and reality. (Though I would love to point Vanessa to the poke bar, which is my not-so-quiet obsession.) The place is just precisely engineered to make you feel good, from the envirotokens conferred to those who bring their own bags to the eerily cheerful personnel.
“All of the cashiers are very nice and weird in a comforting way, and the supplement dept workers are attentive and knowledgeable,” says Sophia Louise Sambrano, a student and teacher who lives in the neighborhood. “Health food stores are for weirdos and I am happy for any of that to be retained in any capacity.”
“The lighting is so flattering to everyone in there, says Ben Haist, an illustrator who lives in the neighborhood. “Virtually 80% of the people in there—they’re the hottest person you’ve ever seen. I think it’s hot in a low-key way that you don’t get [at] an Erewhon.”
When I asked how walking into Lazy Acres makes her feel, screenwriter Hayley, who now lives in Eagle Rock, said, “Surveilled and illicit but also excited. Like a kid putting something in her mom’s shopping cart that she knows she shouldn’t.”
“It once convinced me that a guy I was seeing could maybe be my guy after he bought me organic cranberry juice there when I got a UTI,” says Hannah. “In Lazy Acres you can believe anything.”