Crazy, kookie, mixed-up, shook up Silver Lake ! Where the Leather Boys make friends with the Home Boys and transplanted San Franciscans. (It’s the hills, ya know.) Cool people, wicked bands and clubs, sweet shops and even an indie book store or two. We love it. What could go wrong? Apparently, a whole heck of a lot.

Staged by the Sunset Junction Neighborhood Alliance, by reputation, this used to be the coolest street fair in So Cal. One year older than Burning Man and celebrates the weekend before Labor Day - it is cool no more.

Things changed hands. It was bought and sold. Too much security, micro-management and an overdose of corporate logos. We could forgive all that if it was still artist friendly. It wasn't.

All the booze huts clustered up together just beyond the main stage. Nothing says summer time refreshment like a beer vendor behind a chain link fence. Sake2Me? That’s original. So many sellers in such close proximity made for a messy walk. We saw right away the crowds stayed away.

Just beyond the booze, the sad trash carny converto-trailers. Drop the ping pong ball in the bowl and win a fish. Is PETA here? Sadly, no. However, Hep I and II, Crystal Meth, AIDS and Narcotics Anonymous were. OK, it’s official. I’ve got the creeps.

Just beyond the carnival balloon booths were the community service and medical testers. All lovely people, but all clustered together? Integration, anybody?

Three music stages this time? Didn’t there used to be four or five? Guess they had to make room for the corporate marketing opportunities. September movie releases were being hawked with posters and matchboxes. Ya want Nick Cage’s airbrushed image to light your candles with? Want the NY Times delivered half price? Want to win this car? Sign up right here. The creeps, it gave me the creeps.

A $4 mango smoothie was cold comfort for the lack of local art and artisans. This was the place for hand-painted, vintage everything. Rock tees patched and pinned into mini skirts, recycled Louis V suitcases, purses made from hand-woven safety belts. Now it’s nowheresville. We saw feather earrings and coconut shell jewelry. Beach tourista stuff. Strictly Venice and not the cool part.

It was slim pickin’s in the art department. “The cost of the booth’s is too high,” Bob told us. TwoRabbitStudios in the persons of Mike and Bob had their posters and mini-graphic books out in the sun. These boys did well, signing sold pieces. Not surprising. Very graffiti, very urban, very nice. And they had the market cornered. It was one of two booths we saw with original art.

Another booth called Timbuctu State was more like it. Artist and DJ, Aly Kourouma hung out his “Clothing for Urban Primitives.” Beautiful silkscreened images on tees and sun dresses. Paintings and posters done in a shiny black enamel over tropical washes. Now this stuff was pretty! So sad. This used to be the norm not the exception.

OK, we did make one spectacular find; Alittlebazaar had quite the footwear. Embroidered Beatle boots, low cut and a Cuban heel. Gorgeous. In a cowboy cut too.

Story by Victoria Joyce.