Santee Alley
Tucked in the heart of Downtown Los Angeles’s Fashion District, Santee Alley began in the mid-20th century as a back-lane marketplace where garment manufacturers sold excess stock and samples. Over time, it transformed into a bustling hub for bargain shopping, drawing crowds with its mix of clothing, accessories, and street-market energy. Often called “Los Callejones,” the alley became a vital space for immigrant entrepreneurs and local small businesses, reflecting the city’s creative hustle. Today, Santee Alley remains a colorful slice of LA culture—part retail bazaar, part community landmark, and a lasting symbol of the city’s entrepreneurial spirit.
I’d always known about Santee Alley, but in the 15 years I’ve lived in Los Angeles, I’d only visited a handful of times. It wasn’t until December 2023 that inspiration finally struck. I was getting ready to head back to Arizona for Christmas with my family and needed some last-minute gifts. I remembered that Santee Alley had a great selection of T-shirts, so my sister and I made the drive from Long Beach and parked near Pico and 12th — a perfect spot if you’re only planning to stay for an hour or so.
The first shop didn’t have what I was looking for, so we kept wandering down the alley. As we passed each storefront, I started noticing how every shop — if seen through the right lens — looked like its own little stage. That’s when it hit me: there was real photographic potential in this tucked-away gem of downtown LA.
Fast forward to January 2024. After teaching Atwater Photo Camp with my friend Alyson Aliano — a weeklong workshop where we guide kids (ages 7–12) through photo walks and creative exploration — I left feeling creatively recharged. Teaching always reminds me how a camera can be more than a tool; it’s a vessel for exploration, a reason to look closer at the world around you.
Fueled by that energy and some New Year’s motivation, I decided to start a personal project photographing Santee Alley. Alyson was on board, so we met up one Saturday morning in mid-January. I got there early, grabbed a pupusa for breakfast, and we talked about our goals for the day — I wanted to make portraits of shopkeepers, while she aimed to capture the alley’s movement and rhythm. It worked out perfectly; we weren’t competing, just seeing the same place through different perspectives.
The first portrait I made was of a woman holding a Chucky doll — she smiled and played along. From there, we slowly made our way down the alley, meeting people, making pictures, and absorbing the energy. Some folks welcomed the camera, others brushed me off, but that mix is what makes street work honest. My goal is to eventually make a portrait of every shop in Santee Alley. I’ve gone back a few times since that first shoot, and it’s still one of the most rewarding days I’ve had behind the camera.
If you’re a photographer reading this, here’s my takeaway: get out there and make pictures in your own community. You don’t have to travel across the world to find compelling stories — sometimes they’re just 45 minutes away.
