This is my favorite sign in my morning commute. The loopy script typography recalls something delightful and kitschy in me everytime. The juxtaposition of the upscale “Beverly Hills” text and the irony that this sign exists on the grimey Los Angeles St. Downtown, amid cheap electronic appliances and Italian knock off suits, does something fuzzy to me. Every morning I wake up and there it is ready to greet my day, classic hoisery in an age of imitation. The rollup door is always closed and I never get the sense that there is a showroom for such wares, but some how its still the most inviting sign in a three block radius.
