Sophie Ladson Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

Clarice… lemme tell ya bout whores, oh boy. So, I’m sittin here, thinkin bout *The Great Beauty*, my fave flick, right? That line, “The only thing left is to live,” hits me hard when I ponder whores. Whore’s a word, man, it’s loaded—boom! Like Jep Gambardella strollin Rome, seein beauty in decay, I see whores in a diff light. Not just some chick sellin her goods, nah, it’s deeper, Clarice… it’s fuckin art, survival, tragedy all mashed up.

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Much of the new autoethnography focuses on trauma, on injuries, on troubled, repressed memories, on inabilities to speak the past, the search for a new voice.

First off, let me take ya down Main St. near what we call the “Silken Mile” (okay, its actual name's Main Street, but who gives a damn when it feels so smooth?). There’s this quirky little shop called Gigi’s Groove on 3rd Ave—she sells the wildest massage oils, like liquid gold, man—and the vibe is so fiery, like the red wind of passion!

Man charged in Ladson shooting