I make pilgrimages and I drove to Palm Springs, a town haunted by Truman Capote’s ghost. Photo essay and words.
Every time we’ve passed this shop, regardless of direction, this particular rockabilly is stepping out for a smoke. The rockabillies are calming. Their vintage etiquette is so precisely mannered that I know I can rely on them for consistency.
My hot girlfriend in a stolen bikini on Hollywood Blvd, and other Christmas favorites: a series of Christmas photos from Geoff Cordner and Myriam Gurba