Sometime in the early 1970s, a new building type appeared on Sunset Boulevard: the mini-mall.

What defines a mini-mall? Sometimes overlapping with the linear strip mall but completely different from the pedestrianized shopping mall, the mini-mall is a small shopping center, often located at a corner, consisting of five to 20 shops on an L- or U-shaped lot with parking in front for easy access. Consider 7349-7365 Sunset Boulevard, which found Ruscha’s camera lens in 1973, a classic mini-mall. Located on the corner of N. Martel Avenue in Hollywood, it hosted 18 shops in an L-shaped configuration with 24 parking spaces. The collection of stores was eclectic, some focused on everyday needs, such as the liquor store/deli, barber shop, beauty parlor, and coffee shop, while others were highly specialized, offering draperies or winemaking supplies. Mini-malls like these are not unique to Los Angeles and you can now find similar buildings anywhere in the world. But beginning around 1970 up to 2000, developers built more than 3,000 of these convenience centers not only on Sunset but along most of the well-traveled arterials that constituted the urban fabric of the city and beyond.¹ Their proliferation led city councilman Michael Woo to call Los Angeles “the mini-mall capital of the world.” He did not intend this as a compliment!

Developers Marvin Levine and Alan Riseman claimed to have invented the mini-mall in 1972 after spotting an empty gas station on a corner lot along a busy street in the San Fernando Valley.² But the evidence of Ruscha’s panorama reveals that there were a number of mini-malls already present on Sunset in 1973. Examples include the one discussed above, constructed in 1968, along with 5225-5237 Sunset Boulevard and 5201-5213 Sunset Boulevard, built side-by-side likely around the same time in East Hollywood. Looking at more casual configurations of small shops with some parking in front, such as 5214-5230 Sunset Boulevard and 8477-8495 Sunset Boulevard, built during the 1960s, it is possible to see how the mini-mall might have gradually evolved into a recognizable type as its economic and practical benefits became evident.

Mini-malls fit into the category of the commercial vernacular: generic and replicable architectural responses that emerge from new functional needs, economic conditions, and spatial opportunities. On Sunset, they were built alongside earlier vernacular types such as the “taxpayer strip,” one- or two-story storefronts lined up directly along the street. By the 1960s, high-rise buildings, present since the 1920s, had multiplied and modest supermarkets had been replaced by vast stores fronted by gigantic parking lots. For many developers, however, mini-malls were a more efficient product. They could be built on small lots, required no zoning changes–since Sunset and other major roads were already zoned commercial–and could use inexpensive Type V wood frame and cinder block construction. Though easy to overlook, mini-malls did not elude Ruscha’s camera. His photographs document the appearance and proliferation of this flexible, easy-to-develop type as it became ubiquitous in the built environment of Sunset Boulevard.

The Long History of a New Type

Although unnoticed at the time, mini-malls were the descendents of the roadside markets built across Los Angeles up to 50 years earlier. They responded to many of the same conditions: the city’s dependence on the automobile, an extensive urban fabric, and the demand for convenient access to everyday needs. Architectural historian Richard Longstreth has extensively documented the appearance of drive-in markets in the 1920s, and their evolution into small corner shopping centers in the 1930s. These early mini-malls also responded to Los Angeles’ automobilized culture, becoming emblematic of the city’s benign climate and mobile lifestyles. Many of the drive-in markets were designed in exotic styles, such as the Mandarin Market, on Vine Street a few blocks south of Sunset, which featured red and green tile pagoda roofs and carved dragons. But this new retail type also appealed to local modernists like Richard Neutra and even Frank Lloyd Wright, who saw them during his stay in LA in the 1920s. Wright reinvented those shopping centers in Broadacre City (1935) calling them the great “Roadside Market.”³

By the 1930s, drive-in markets had evolved into small neighborhood shopping centers that became symbols of good planning. The Los Angeles Chamber of Commerce portrayed them as neighborhood assets, and planners demonstrated how drive-in centers could fit any corner. Influential planners such as Catherine Bauer and Clarence Stein praised them as functional alternatives to the chaotic disorder of the roadside strip.⁴ However, post-war retailing rendered these early mini-mall prototypes obsolete, replacing them with consolidated merchandising such as chain supermarkets and, later, the shopping mall. By the 1960s, they were long forgotten.

Adaptability and Convenience

The standard mini-mall had a flat roof and stucco finish. This basic format could be easily varied with any number of decorative embellishments. In early examples, metal mansard roofs, awnings, and red tile roof edging were popular. As tastes changed, unadorned buildings could be upgraded with more fashionable details. For example, sometime between 1995 and 2007, the owners of 2901-2929 Sunset Boulevard adorned its bare facade with a postmodern false front featuring curved geometric grids and coordinated signage. By 2007, the two-story mall at 8539 Sunset Boulevard introduced classical touches such as a cornice, arcaded pavilions, and decorative railings. Material choices often depended on the neighborhood. As alternatives to stucco, walls could be faced with tile or brick veneer, as in 5225-5237 Sunset Boulevard. As with many vernacular types, there is little stylistic development over time. Instead, the choice of size, material, or configuration depended on the location and cost of land. Two-story malls (such as 7771-7799 Sunset Boulevard or 7101-7127 Sunset Boulevard) were common, although they were more expensive, requiring steel frames, staircases, and elevators, while mid-block U-shaped configurations were rare. On that count, 8539 Sunset Boulevard was an exception to the rule.

For drivers along Sunset and many of the extensive boulevards that make up much of Los Angeles’ urban fabric, mini-malls offered easy parking and convenient access to everyday needs. Given the centrality of the automobile to mini-malls’ success, signs were a key element in their design. Placed at right angles to the road to be visible to drivers, signs are hard to decipher in most of Ruscha’s head-on photos. At 30 mph, drivers needed to quickly identify individual stores and restaurants so they could decide whether or not to turn in. Some mini-malls had names at the top of their signs, as was the case at 7300 Sunset Boulevard, called Sunset Fuller Plaza. Names could either be descriptive, such as the street corners where they were located, or aspirational, as in the case of 8539 Sunset Boulevard, called “The Sunset Collection,” a mini-mall completed by the time of Ruscha’s 1985 visit and bedecked with a large sign on its renovated facade by 2007. Local mini-malls also served many neighborhood shoppers, walking from the apartments and houses on either side of the boulevard, where commerce was only one building deep. For those arriving either by car or on foot, the mini-mall’s easy accessibility allowed them to get in and out quickly, avoiding long supermarket lines or distant mall parking.

The Invasion Begins

If mini-malls were already visible in 1973, by 1985 they were the dominant type of new construction along Sunset Boulevard. The appearance of mini-malls is often attributed to the availability of abandoned gas station sites (see “The Gradual Disappearance of Gas Stations on Sunset”). However, on Sunset, gas stations accounted for only a portion of those prior uses. Surprisingly, despite the boulevard’s prominence, there was no shortage of vacant land or available parking lots along its length. Single-family houses, no longer viable on the commercial boulevard, provided other options for mini-mall development. Only a few of the structures replaced by mini-malls were lamented, like the iconic Tiny Naylor’s (7101 Sunset Boulevard), a Googie-style drive-in, at the key intersection of Sunset and La Brea. The restaurant, which Ruscha himself visited in the 1972 documentary, Reyner Banham Loves Los Angeles, had given way to the then under-construction mini-mall by the time Ruscha drove past the site for his 1985 panorama.

The entire length of Sunset Boulevard offered desirable sites. The mini-malls on the Sunset Strip provided both convenience and upscale stores that reflected the expensive neighborhoods surrounding them. Mini-malls were most densely clustered in the already developed center of Hollywood, especially at important cross streets. These mini-malls catered to a broad array of shoppers–many passing through on their way to the 101 freeway–with fast food chains, video stores, liquor stores, and dry cleaners. By 1985, the impact of the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965 had become visible on the eastern end of Sunset, as Los Angeles’ booming economy attracted new immigrants. The region became one of the most diverse in the country; in 1990, 38.4% of the population of the City of Los Angeles was born outside of the U.S. Many of these newcomers became self-employed, starting their own small businesses or buying franchises, a condition economists call hyper-entrepreneurship. In Los Angeles immigrants made up an unusually large percentage of business owners and an even larger portion of so-called Main Street businesses, like neighborhood shops and services.⁵

Many of these new entrepreneurs located in mini-malls, drawn by their low rents and proximity to ethnic neighborhoods. By the late 1990s, when Thai Town and Little Armenia were officially designated, this area had already been a magnet for ethnic restaurants and businesses for several decades. Mark Padoongpatt’s account of Thai placemaking, “Thai Town, Placemaking, and Urban Revitalization,” highlights the significance of the mini-mall in this process. Mini-malls such as those at 5185 and 5265 Sunset Boulevard reflected the complexity of the neighborhood, housing both Thai and Armenian restaurants in a largely Latino area. As Sunset curved south towards downtown, languages and cuisines shifted, reflecting the population of the surrounding areas. Somewhere between Silver Lake and Echo Park, Spanish becomes the dominant language visible in Ruscha’s photos. By the 1200 block of Sunset, Chinese characters begin to appear, and near the end of the boulevard, Cathay Plaza–itself a form of mini-mall–marks the edge of Chinatown. But signs can be deceiving, since even apparently generic businesses, like dry cleaners, laundromats, and donut shops, were often owned by immigrants. Many of those establishments found their place in mini-malls.⁶

The War Against the Mini-Mall

By the mid-1980s, mini-malls had proliferated across Southern California and, especially, in Los Angeles. At the same time, and not coincidentally, critics began to attack mini-malls, identifying a range of problems: litter, loitering, too much parking, too little parking, too many curb cuts, noise, poor maintenance, and traffic congestion. Most attacks, however, focused on aesthetics, typically the ambiguous crime of “visual blight.” They used words such as “stark,” “bleak,” “charmless,” “unpleasant,” “generic,” “cheap-looking,” and, most often, “ugly” to describe them.⁷ In 1989, 10 percent of respondents to a Los Angeles Times quality of life poll cited mini-malls as their biggest pet peeve.⁸

Architects and planners were early and vociferous opponents. The American Institute of Architects began a campaign alerting the public to the mini-malls’ aesthetic and design flaws. The mini-mall parti, with its empty corner, violated a fundamental principle of urban design: to emphasize the corner. Curb cuts and parking lots discouraged the public life of the sidewalk that many architects and planners desired. Attempting to offer innovative alternatives, they organized a 1986 competition and exhibit, titled “Real Problems: The Convenience Center.” In spite of their creative solutions, however, none of the entries ever got built.⁹

Late in the decade, mini-malls became a political issue as city officials and planners attempted to control what had been previously unregulated. They proposed a host of new regulations intended to curb mini-malls’ continued growth. A succession of city council members denounced mini-malls, asking voters to implement new restrictions. The influential Times supported those restrictions. Although 70 percent of voters passed a 1986 initiative limiting any new commercial development, other regulations were explicitly aimed at mini-malls. Sunset Boulevard was a particular target. The City of Los Angeles temporarily halted mini-mall construction in Hollywood, and the separate city of West Hollywood completely banned them.¹⁰ In November 1988, the LA City Council approved the “mini-mall ordinance,” establishing strict new guidelines on construction. Subsequent regulation required street frontages with parking behind and, later, one tree for every four parking spaces.¹¹

Mini-Malls in a Changing Los Angeles

In retrospect, the collective alarm seems exaggerated. In many respects, mini-malls were an early response to the city’s increasing density. Their concentrated form accommodated more businesses than earlier commercial strips and did not require street parking. The gas stations that preceded them had been even worse in terms of pedestrian access, curb cuts, and aesthetics. Perhaps the sheer numbers and ubiquity of mini-malls was overwhelming. To many Angelenos, mini-malls’ rapid and apparently uncontrolled growth across the urban landscape was disturbing, giving rise to the derogatory name “pod malls,” a term that portrayed them as alien invaders taking over the city.

This response may have represented displaced anxiety about the social and spatial changes then taking place in the city, since Ruscha’s 1985 panorama demonstrates that mini-malls still constituted a relatively minor part of Sunset Boulevard’s haphazard streetscape Critics’ dislike reflected changes in Los Angeles’ self-image and physical spaces. Going beyond aesthetics, observers like Mike Davis singled out mini-malls as evidence of a degraded public realm. In places like East Hollywood and Echo Park, the eclectic selection of tenants at places like 1516 Sunset Boulevard, on occasion reflected in signs without English translations, seemed emblematic of a city that David Rieff called “capital of the third world.”¹² These immigrant businesses were visible evidence of the city’s dramatic demographic changes. Some who regarded those changes with uncertainty veiled their unease behind critiques of architecture and development.

Ideas about LA’s ideal urban future also played a part in shaping concerns. As the city reached its spatial limits, development started filling in the remaining city. This new density renewed longstanding demands that Los Angeles should be more like other cities, with more high-rises, mixed-use buildings, and better public transportation. Civic leaders, planners, and architects, influenced by popular urban design movements such as the New Urbanism, reimagined the city following traditional urban models with pedestrian-oriented streets and imposing facades, the antithesis of the low-rise auto-oriented mini-mall. Supporters of this new urban image portrayed mini-malls as a deplorable past incarnation of the city that needed to be eliminated.

Ironically, their new model of street life, with broad sidewalks and even outdoor cafes, already existed on Sunset Boulevard. Sunset Plaza (8600-8700 Sunset Boulevard and 8625-8673 Sunset Boulevard), a neo-Georgian collection of shops and restaurants with parking located behind the structures, was exemplary. Developers had built the complex as an ensemble of commercial and residential buildings between 1925 and 1936, alongside a luxury apartment development designed by Paul R. Williams on Sunset Plaza Drive. Visible in Ruscha’s 1973 and 1985 photographs, the apartments were gone by 2007, replaced by a single-family house hidden by trees. The plaza itself remained a desirable site for exclusive boutiques and chic restaurants, and a reminder of the long history of commercial strips from which later, oft-maligned mini-malls descended.

The Mini-Mall Endures

After 1985, mini-malls continued to appear on Sunset, although in diminished numbers. Their designs demonstrated the increased regulation of setbacks, parking, elevations, access, flow, and density. These demands increased the costs of development, making new construction profitable only at key sites, such as the major intersection with LaBrea (7077 Sunset Boulevard). Locating fast food outlets in the corner of the parking lot–as was the case with the Burger King at this address–could add revenue. The real problem was that Los Angeles was running out of affordable corner lots suitable for low-rise development. In the depressed economy of the early 1990s, the market was saturated. But still, when Ruscha traveled Sunset Boulevard in 2007, most of its mini-malls continued to survive and even thrive.

Very rarely, as in the case of large and prominent new buildings, such as the Directors Guild of America (6311 Sunset Boulevard), were mini-malls destroyed. On other sites, as with the large mini-mall at 6333 Sunset Boulevard, the rezoning of Hollywood to encourage greater density brought the arrival of the new mixed-use development model, with ground-floor retail and multi-story apartments above. In rare cases, both could be combined. In 1981, the developer of 5825 Sunset Boulevard built a U-shaped mini-mall, then, four years later, added a 12-story hotel in the center of the U.

By 2007, the tide of criticism against mini-malls had turned. Important cultural figures and regular Angelenos had not only accepted but even celebrated the mini-mall. In 1997, the prominent photographer Catherine Opie showed large black-and-white prints of Los Angeles mini-malls, works now in the collection of the J. Paul Getty Museum, the Guggenheim Museum, and the Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago. “The mini-malls are the essence of place, the new town center that shows the multi-cultural aspect of the city,” explaining, “They are the Mom and Pop shops of the American Dream.”¹³ The legendary food writer Jonathan Gold made it clear that most of the best restaurants in the city (such as Jitlada, tucked into a corner at 5233 Sunset Boulevard) were in mini-malls. After this, even Michelin-starred restaurants such as Trois Mec began to locate in these commercial strips (in the case of that celebrated but now-shuttered restaurant, chef Ludo Lefebvre chose a Highland Avenue mini-mall). In the documentary City of Gold, Gold lamented that “people not from Los Angeles sometimes don’t understand the beauty you can find in mini-malls.”¹⁴ Younger writers, however, penned essays nostalgically describing the mini-malls they grew up with.¹⁵

Recently, the New York Times noted that Taylor Swift and other celebrities frequented an expensive Japanese restaurant on the second floor of the Sunset Collection, the mini-mall at 8539 Sunset Boulevard. The article concluded that eating in mini-malls was “the full Los Angeles experience…Because you can’t really get that anywhere else.”¹⁶ Thus, in spite of the city’s new self-image, the mini-mall has become a staple of Los Angeles life, on Sunset Boulevard and elsewhere. The reality remains that most people still drive cars, and much of the population has a mini-mall within walking distance. Even today, it would be hard to find an Angeleno who hasn’t visited one.

Notes