As the cliché goes, you can tell a lot about a person by their shoes—you can tell even more about them based on where they've chosen to call home. Apartments, after all, are like shoes you live in (this adage is especially true if you're one of the unfortunate souls who resides in a studio apartment). The enormity and diversity of Los Angeles is reflected in its neighborhoods—here's what yours says about you, according to us.
Arts District: The parade of human misery that surrounds you at every turn really inspires your "art." Maybe next time you sell a painting for $10k, you can throw a few dollars into the soiled Starbucks cup of your housing-deficient war veteran neighbor. (Y'know, the one who lives in a tent instead of a loft.)
Atwater Village: You're a dad emotionally, but not yet physically. When you actually impregnate your first ex-wife, you'll jump ship and finally make the move to Glendale. Once your career takes off, though? The sky's the limit! A 25-year-old girlfriend and a bungalow next to the Atwater Village Farm will bring you "back to your roots." Then the cycle will continue.
Beverly Hills: You think you treat your help "pretty well, actually." After all, you gave your nanny/the real parent of your children a Kindle Fire for Christmas last year. You gave her half the day off, too!
Beverlywood: You came out here with a dream, a Camry your parents paid for, and little else. The Camry will die shortly before your dreams do. Hopefully you'll be able to use that drama degree you got at Emerson to get you a teaching job once you get back to the Midwest with a credit as "Corpse #2" on Law and Order: SVU in your pocket and your tail between your legs.
Echo Park: If you've been living here for 30 years, you're probably wondering why Echo Park Lake is filled more with melanin-deficient people Instagramming photos of water lilies than with people selling bootleg DVDs on waterlogged tarps. If you've been living here for three months, you're probably wondering why there aren't more vinyl-only record stores. (Only five? What is this, the Midwest?)
Highland Park: You're Marc Maron. You are a comic and a feral cat wrangler and a writer and the host of WTF with Marc Maron the podcast [sic].
Hollywood: You either never visited Los Angeles before moving here or you're too broke to leave. Either way, do not pass "Go," do not collect $200, and do not collect enough vouchers to be SAG-eligible.
Koreatown: You hate parking as much as you love trying to decipher menus that aren't printed in English. You enjoy the fact that the neighborhood reminds you of New York City. You don't, however, enjoy the fact that your glorified bedroom of a studio apartment is New-York-City-sized.
Los Feliz: You have matriculated at either the Upright Citizens Brigade or the Church of Scientology Celebrity Centre. Either way, you don't mind grunt work and are operating at a financial loss on the road to what you hope will be success in the entertainment industry.
Melrose: Your love of abandoned storefronts that formerly housed Von Dutch-esque boutiques peddling garish wares is rivaled only by your love of currently operational storefronts that house Von Dutch-esque boutiques peddling garish wares. You're wearing something bedazzled as I type this.
Park La Brea: Your parents are paying your rent as you struggle to "make it" as a stylist. They also pay for the Forever XXI garb you compulsively buy at The Grove on a weekly basis. The car you park in your assigned space is still registered in your home state.
Santa Monica: You enjoy the safety, comfort and "greenness" of living in an incorporated Whole Foods. You own a jogging stroller.
Silver Lake: Your home is tastefully decorated in mid-century furniture, which you purchased at Living Room on Sunset. Every time you catch your dog sitting in one of your Eames chairs, you spray him with a water bottle. The fact that he refuses to sleep in the $300 mod dog bed you bought him keeps you up at night—sleep deprivation is affecting your job as the owner of an artisanal cheese shop.
The Valley: The only thing you require in a residence is close proximity to a carwash. This is your Xanadu.
Venice: You, regardless of gender, have shamelessly sported a top bun at some point in time. Fashion-wise, your motto is "The flowy-er, the better."
Westwood: You're sitting in traffic right now. You shouldn't be reading this, you're going to get a ticket. —Megan Koester
From Our Friends at Vox.com: 220 Years of U.S. Population Changes in One Map