Lifestyle
‘This feels like home.’ A fashionably late night out to the Pico Rivera Sports Arena
This story is part of Image’s December Revelry issue, honoring what music does so well: giving people a sense of permission to unapologetically be themselves.
The belt used to belong to his father. Black leather, silver stitching, “RUBEN” spelled across the side with the initials “R.V.” on the buckle, for Ruben Vallejo, a name both men share. Now it sits on the waist of the younger Vallejo as he gets ready for a night out at the Pico Rivera Sports Arena, a place he’s been to “over 50 times,” he says, but this one’s special. He tucks in his thrifted button-up shirt, adjusts his belt buckle and looks in the mirror.
For the Vallejo family, the arena is a second home and dancing there is tradition. It stands as a cultural landmark for Los Angeles’ Mexican community, hosting decades of concerts, rodeos and community celebrations. Vallejo’s parents first started going in the early ’90s, when banda and corridos began echoing across L.A. Tonight, the beloved crooner Pancho Barraza is performing and Vallejo is going with his mom, sister, aunt and godmother.
Vallejo wears a black tejana from Marquez Clásico, a thrifted vaquero-style button up, thrifted jeans and a belt passed down from his father.
At 22, Vallejo doesn’t see música regional Mexicana as nostalgia — it’s simply who he is, something he wears, dances to and claims as his own. “I want to revive this and let other people know that this art and culture is still alive,” says Vallejo. “From the way that I dress, from the music I listen to, I want to let everybody know that the kids like this.”
It’s a little past 6:30 p.m. on a Sunday in late October, and the sound of a live banda carries from a small Mexican restaurant near the Vallejo family’s Mid-City home as the excitement for the night builds. The horns and tambora spill into the street as the neighborhood celebrates early Día de los Muertos festivities. Inside, Vallejo opens the door to his storybook bungalow, where his parents lounge in the living room. But it’s his bedroom that tells you who he is — a space that feels like a paisa museum.
Thrifted banda puffer jackets hang on the closet wall: Banda Recodo, Banda Machos, El Coyote y su Banda Tierra Santa. Stacks of CDs and cassette tapes line his dresser, from Banda El Limón to Banda Móvil and a signed Pepe Aguilar. On one wall, a small black-and-white watercolor of Chalino Sánchez he painted himself hangs beside a framed Mexico 1998 World Cup jersey. “Everything started with my grandpa,” Vallejo says. “He was a trombone player and played in a banda in my mom’s hometown in Jalisco.”
Music runs in the family. His uncles started a group called Banda La Movida, and Vallejo is still teaching himself acoustic guitar when he’s not apprenticing as a hat maker at Márquez Clásico, crafting tejanas and sombreros de charro.
“I feel like being an old soul gives people a sense of how things used to be back in the day,” he says of the intergenerational bridge between his work and personal interests. “That connection is something so needed right now.”
Beyond the banda memorabilia, the real story lives in the old family photos — snapshots of backyard parties, his parents in full ’90s vaquero style in L.A. parking lots and a large framed portrait of his uncles from Banda La Movida, posing in matching blue jackets and white tejanas.
“This is a picture of us in the [Pico Rivera Sports Arena] parking lot. We’d go to support my cousins in a battle of the bandas. Which also meant fan clubs against fan clubs. The pants were a lot more baggy then,” explains Vallejo’s mother, Maria Aracely, in Spanish.
The belt used to belong to his father. Black leather, silver stitching, “RUBEN” spelled across the side with the initials “R.V.” on the buckle, for Ruben Vallejo, a name both men share.
Vallejo’s look for the night is simple but intentional: a black tejana from Márquez Clásico, a thrifted black-and-white vaquero-style button-up patterned with deer silhouettes, loose “pantalones de elefante,” as he calls them, his dad’s brown snakeskin boots, and, of course, the embroidered belt that ties it all together.
“This is very Pancho Barraza-style, especially with the venado shirt. I looked up old videos of him performing on YouTube. I do that a lot with these older banda looks,” Vallejo says.
A rustic leather embroidered bandana with “Banda La Movida” stitched vertically hangs from his left pocket — a keepsake his mom held onto from her brothers’ group back in the day.
“I feel like being an old soul gives people a sense of how things used to be back in the day. That connection is something so needed right now.”
Running fashionably late, Vallejo arrives at Barraza’s concert with less than an hour to spare, but he seems unbothered. His mom and older sister, Jennifer, are there, along with his aunt and godmother. A mix of mud and alcohol hangs in the air as the family makes their way across the fake grass tarps covering the lower level of the arena. Barraza is onstage with a mariachi accompanying his banda. With the amount of people still out drinking and dancing, it’s hard to believe it’s past 10 o’clock on a Sunday night.
Walking past the stands, Vallejo’s mother is in awe as she points out a certain upper level section of the arena and recalls the amount of times she would sit there and see countless bandas before she had Ruben and his sister. As the concert nears the end, Barraza closes with one of Vallejo’s favorite songs, “Mi Enemigo El Amor,” which Vallejo belts out, jokingly heartbroken.
“I hadn’t seen him live yet and the ambiente here feels great because everyone here is connected to the music. Even though we’re in L.A. this feels like home, like Mexico.”
Frank X. Rojas is a Los Angeles native who writes about culture, style and the people shaping his city. His stories live in the quiet details that define L.A.
Photography assistant Jonathan Chacón
Lifestyle
Rebecca Gayheart Dane on caring for her late husband, Eric Dane, and synthetic voices
Rebecca Gayheart-Dane speaks onstage at the 16th Annual Chrysalis Butterfly Ball on June 3, 2017 in Los Angeles, California.
Alberto E. Rodriguez / Getty Images for Chrysalis Butterfly Ball
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Alberto E. Rodriguez / Getty Images for Chrysalis Butterfly Ball
The actor Eric Dane, who played Dr. Mark Sloan on the medical drama Grey’s Anatomy, died last month. Dane was 53, and announced he had been diagnosed with ALS last April.
The disease affects nerves in the brain and spinal cord, robbing a person of their ability to walk, breathe and often speak.
Dane’s widow, Rebecca Gayheart Dane, told NPR it was devastating to see his voice slip away.

“He was witty, acerbic, full of humor, and he always had a great story,” Gayheart Dane said. “So, as speaking became harder for him, I watched and witnessed some of his joy fade, and it was really hard and very heartbreaking.”
She is now working with ElevenLabs, an artificial intelligence company that makes synthetic voice software. The company developed a program that helps people with permanent voice loss replicate their voices, including Eric Dane’s.
Gayheart Dane spoke with All Things Considered host Juana Summers about her role as a caregiver and her complex feelings about artificial intelligence.
Listen to the full interview by clicking on the blue play button above.
Lifestyle
Street style at the Hollywood Farmers Market feels like a magic Saturday evening
Over the course of three Sundays, Image contributing photographer Jennelle Fong captured stylish visitors with their bounty at the venerated Hollywood Farmers Market. “It didn’t have to be a Sunday morning, it could’ve been a Saturday evening,” says Fong. Walking up and down the cross of the four corridors of the farmers market felt like a runway: sweat pants mixed with Hermès, coordinated ERL looks, a Converse heel and an actual Balenciaga x Erewhon bag. Even the rolling carts served as extensions of people’s accessories. The energy was radiant, easygoing, alert and nothing short of magical.
Cameron Crotty wears Liberty London sweater, Adidas skirt and Converse Chuck 70 De Luxe Heel High Top sneakers.
Audrea Wah wears thrifted dress and top, customized by herself, pants from Santee Alley and Fumsup Silver necklace.
Paige McGowan wears a Hiroko Hata skirt, vintage shirt and vintage tote.
Detail of Paige McGowan’s vintage tote.
Samantha Klein with Variety Hour petal bag and Miu Miu loafers.
Samantha Klein in vintage and Variety Hour petal bag, and Aaron Klein, right, in vintage and Big Bud Press stripe bag.
Quincy Vadan wears his personal jewelry designs, under the brand Vadan.
At left, Austin Bachlor wears a Bellagio souvenir hat, and polo top, shorts and sneakers from ERL. At right, Carlos Bachlor wears vintage top from The Dig, shorts and boots from ERL and Balenciaga x Erewhon bag.
Pups Oliver and Koko wear a sunny yellow bucket hat.
Steven Pardo carries an Enorme bag.
Anastasiia Yermak in mirrored sunglasses.
Lifestyle
Harrison Ford isn’t retiring: ‘I really wouldn’t know what to do with myself’
“I’m happy to be the age I am, and have no impulse to hide it,” says Harrison Ford. He’s shown above accepting the Screen Actors Guild Life Achievement Award in Los Angeles on March 1.
Valerie Macon/AFP via Getty Images
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Valerie Macon/AFP via Getty Images
After playing some of the most recognizable and beloved characters in cinematic history, Harrison Ford is not interested in retiring. “Without my work, I really wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” the 83-year-old actor says. “I really do love the work. … It constantly changes, and the people change, and the mission and the opportunity change, and it just makes for an interesting way to live your life.”
Ford initially struggled to find his footing in Hollywood. He worked on-and-off as a carpenter for years before landing the breakthrough role of Han Solo in the original Star Wars film. He went on to star in the Star Wars sequels, as well as the Indiana Jones movies and Blade Runner — all the while frequently performing his own action scenes.

“I don’t want to have to hide the face of the character because it’s a stunt guy,” he says. “I want [the audience] to feel the blow. I want them to see the anxiety. I want them to be there when the decision is made or when the decision is missed. I just want them to be there.”
In the current Apple TV series, Shrinking, Ford plays a therapist named Paul who’s been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. Thus far, he says, the show’s writers haven’t shared with him the progression of Paul’s disease. Instead, he says, “Like a true Parkinson’s patient, I don’t really know what’s coming. … I’m sort of living with the symptoms I have been last described as having.”

Recently, Ford teared up while accepting a recognition for lifetime achievement at the Actor Awards. “That speech that I wrote was not crafted to be emotional; it just happened to me,” he says. “I feel slightly embarrassed by it, because I have enough experience with these things to want to be able to manage not to be overcome.”
Interview highlights
On being asked to help in Star Wars auditions while on a carpentry job at Francis Ford Coppola‘s office
I was there sweeping up. I was just finishing the job when George Lucas walked in [who Ford knew from appearing in Lucas’ last film, American Graffiti] … and I’m standing there in my carpenter’s work belt, sweeping up the floor. It turned out to be a fortuitous occasion, because weeks later I would end up being asked if I would do them a favor and read with the other actors who were being considered for the parts. … I never was told that I was ever to be considered, and then at the end of the process, I guess they ended up with two groups of three people that were in final consideration. I’ve always been amused that in the second group, the character of Han Solo would have been played by Chris Walken. I would have loved to see that.
On his most famous ad-lib in a film

[It’s] the line in Star Wars where Princess Leia tells me that she loves me and I say, “I know,” instead of saying “I love you too,” which is the scripted line. Simply the impulse was to be more in character. And George Lucas, who had written the line, was not so happy that I didn’t give him the original version. But I really felt strongly about it. So he made me sit next to him when he previewed the film in a public movie theater in San Francisco and it got … a good laugh. And so he accepted it and left it in.
On seeing Star Wars for the first time on screen

I was blown away. I mean, I was really shocked by the power of the film. We shot in England and our English crew were not used to something like Star Wars, and so they were pretty sure that it was going to be a disaster. And we weren’t far from that opinion, ourselves, the actors.
On performing an emergency landing while flying solo in a vintage World War II airplane
Let’s just start by saying that it was a mechanical failure. … It was a 74-year-old airplane, and I was 74 years old at the time. .. Four hundred feet in the air above the airport, the engine quit. And it’s my home airport, and I was familiar with the surrounding terrain, which is cluttered with houses, wires and cars, and people. So I turned to a golf course that was there. …

In my ear was the very clear voice of one of my aviation mentors who always, when talking about mechanical failures or other kinds of failures, the advice was to “fly the airplane as far into the crash as possible.” You think about this thing when you’re a pilot, you think about the potential, the possibility of it happening, and of course you train. So when it happened, it was not really a surprise, and I thought I knew what I had to do to handle it, so I just started doing the things that needed to be done. … I don’t remember actually being scared. [My injuries] were more than described in the newspaper, but I’m over them all, thank you. I got my license back and continue to fly. … I am not a thrill seeker. I am a very conservative pilot. It’s not that I do crazy stuff for the fun of it.
On objecting to the Vietnam War draft
I was facing being drafted and I hired a lawyer to represent me to the draft board. I had to explain why I might qualify as a conscientious objector. I explained that I did not have a history of religious affiliation. My mother was Jewish, my father Catholic. … I was raised Democrat. I’m quite happy to accept other people’s versions of God, but I found in a Protestant theologian named Paul Tillich, a sentence that said: If you have trouble with the word God, take whatever is central and most meaningful to your life and call that God.
And to me that was life itself, the complexity, the biodiversity, the incredible integration and complexity of nature, to me seemed to be the same thing as God. And so I prepared an explanation that was probably so unusual that it found the edge of a desk and had a lot of things piled on top of it because it didn’t fit a niche. They never got back to me, basically. The draft board never got back to me.
Lauren Krenzel and Nico Gonzalez Wisler produced and edited this interview for broadcast. Bridget Bentz, Molly Seavy-Nesper and Beth Novey adapted it for the web.

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