LA art museums that I’ve been to (the Broad, the Getty) feel more playful and experiential than the behemoths of NYC, DC, and Chicago. LACMA was no exception. Mr. S and I swung by one Friday after work, meandering through jazz on the lawn and into two of the museum’s special exhibits. My favorite was the fantastically creepy Guillermo Del Toro exhibit, which was on the outer limit of my scariness tolerance. It was fascinating to take a closer look at many of the pulpy movies I love (Pacific Rim, Pan’s Labryinth, Crimson Peak!). 

when your elbows also wear skirts and your choker is built-in

not for the faint of heart

details from Crimson Peak costuming

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