Lifestyle
Meet Anh Phoong, L.A.’s latest billboard celebrity, serving looks with Humberto Leon
Anh Phoong stands in front of one of her L.A. billboards. Phoong wears Oori Ott bodysuit and shorts, Firmé Atelier jacket.
(Kanya Iwana/For The Times)
Anh Phoong isn’t afraid of heights. She has a vivid memory of herself in college dancing on top of a nightclub speaker. It’s an image that her friends won’t let her live down to this day, telling her, “Anh, all we remember you as is the girl on speakers.”
Now, she’s the woman on billboards.
If her name doesn’t immediately ring a bell, it will when it’s said in a sentence: “Something wrong? Call Anh Phoong.” I first saw the personal injury attorney’s blue-and-yellow billboards last November. They struck me in a way that no other lawyer billboard has. There was a campiness that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, so I snapped a photo and posted it on my Instagram story. “This is such a serve,” I typed. Immediately, other friends replied, also curious about this Asian woman who was giving Jacoby & Meyers and Shen Yun a run for their money.
Six months later I’m meeting Phoong for dinner. She’s in L.A. for her goddaughter’s college graduation and wants Asian food. Phoong is Chinese Vietnamese, which means I’m twice more likely to disappoint her with restaurant recommendations. And so, we meet at Lasita in Chinatown, a Filipino rotisserie spot that I know we’ll both love.
Phoong tells me a story over dinner. Earlier that day, Phoong and her assistant, Linh Lee, had been walking in downtown L.A., and just as they were about to cross the street, Lee saw her boss’s advert on the back of a bus. When she tried to get Phoong’s attention, she realized that it wasn’t Anh Phoong on the bus — it was Glen Powell. “Keep your hands clean. Call Dean,” the sign read. The actor was wearing a red sweater reminiscent of Phoong’s outfit in her billboards, standing in the middle of a blue-and-yellow sign. At the bottom corner, Lee noticed the Netflix logo and then it clicked: It was a parody poster promoting the streaming service’s new film “Hit Man.”
Anh Phoong wears Gao top and skirt.
“We weren’t sure if it was coincidental that [Netflix’s] billboards looked exactly like one of Anh’s, but after reading their slogan, we were sure it was an imitation,” Lee says. Phoong adds, “I’m flattered by that. The best compliment is when people try to imitate you.”
Her catchphrase has a specific cadence — one that easily evokes a laugh after every recitation. It’s a simple rhyme that Phoong’s husband came up with during a vacation in 2016. The couple spitballed a few ideas on their cruise until they landed on her now-famous slogan, which she initially thought was “so stupid, it’s not going to work.”
Little did she know that the catchphrase would later catapult her Sacramento firm into the pop culture zeitgeist. When businesses pulled back on advertising spending during the pandemic, Phoong noticed all the empty discounted billboards in California. She took advantage of the bundles and expanded her business to the Bay Area. Last November, the “Queen of NorCal,” as she’s dubbed, finally set her sights on the City of Angels.
While most attorneys would slap a lawsuit, Phoong clapped back by taking over L.A.
“What started happening in Northern California was a lot of the L.A. lawyers were coming up here,” Phoong explains. “They would pretend to be me. They’re buying my name, buying Google ads.” One day, Phoong says, a man stormed into her office claiming to be her client. She had no record of him, but he insisted that he was telling the truth. After looking through his contract, Phoong discovered that the man called another firm’s number from a Google ad, which was posing as Phoong Law.
“Don’t buy my name and tell people you’re me. That’s straight up fraud,” she says. While most attorneys would slap a lawsuit, Phoong clapped back by taking over L.A.
Almost immediately, her advertisements took the city by storm. “Just saw an Anh Phoong billboard in L.A… she’s EVOLVING,” someone wrote on X. “No single person or company has ever had a better billboard marketing campaign than her, and it needs to be studied in school,” TikToker Ben Trinh said in a video.
I didn’t realize until I moved here from the Midwest that Angelenos stan lawyers as if they were celebrities. When famed personal injury attorney Larry H. Parker died in March, there was an outpouring of tributes on social media. The 75-year-old lawyer was an early adopter of litigation advertising on TV, and became known for his catchphrase, “We’ll fight for you.”
Anh Phoong wears Oori Ott top and Leeann Huang skirt.
“Not everyone knows who the big movie or pop star is, yet we all know who the local injury lawyer is,” Alfonso Gonzalez Jr. tells me. The visual artist, who started his career as a billboard painter, recently closed out his installation at Jeffrey Deitch’s “At the Edge of the Sun” exhibit. Gonzalez hand-painted real local injury lawyer advertisements on over 30 canvases, from Adriana’s Insurance to James Wang.
“The way we navigate the sprawling landscape on streets and freeways via car, combined with the influence of the movie industry, creates the perfect environment for the billboard format,” he explains.“There’s a long history of hand-painted billboards in Hollywood, primarily for movie posters, but also for local icons such as Angelyne,” Gonzalez adds.
In 1984, a series of billboards went up around town depicting a blond woman in suggestive poses. The only text was her name, Angelyne, emblazoned in hot pink letters. Nobody knew who this mysterious blondie was, but her billboards attracted the public’s attention — leading to offers from film studios and magazines. Gonzalez, who apprenticed under Angelyne’s original billboard painters, thinks of some of these lawyers as present-day Angelynes. But he also critiques the influx of personal injury billboards in his work by “humorously confronting marketing tactics such as fear-mongering and appealing to specific demographics.”
“I don’t want to intimidate people because a lot of the time you can’t be real with your lawyer”
— Anh Phoong
Phoong says she’s not in the business of instilling fear. “I don’t want to intimidate people because a lot of the time you can’t be real with your lawyer,” she tells me over our plates of pork belly lechon and Napa caesar salad. “Anybody can get into a car accident … but you don’t know who you can go to except for the white guys.” She knows she doesn’t fit in, adding, “What you would typically see was an older white male; dominant, a powerhouse, and straight-faced. We wanted to be different.”
The first decision she made was to not wear a suit in her billboards. “I just want to be real; I want people to see me,” she says. In her first billboard, she was intentional about wearing a black dress because it felt “safe.” Phoong wanted to incorporate more of her personal style, telling me her favorite designers include Gucci, Hermès, Givenchy and Dolce & Gabbana. Eventually, she added more colors to her billboard outfits, later donning a burgundy and blue dress that even inspired a drag look.
Alpha Andromeda has been doing drag in the Bay Area for years, but one particular performance last summer caught Phoong’s attention. The drag queen was in a trench coat performing to “Vroom Vroom” by Charli XCX on stage. Then, the lights went off and came back on. Alpha Andromeda was now in a blue dress impersonating Phoong, lip-syncing to her TV commercial intercut with Blondie’s “Call Me.”
Anh Phoong wears Koredoko top and Oori Ott shorts.
“That billboard that you pass on your commute everyday? That’s drag now!” Alpha Andromeda tells me.
Being on a billboard wasn’t something Phoong was necessarily prepared for. “Struggling with teeth and being a young girl not feeling pretty enough, and then putting myself on a billboard? It’s a lot,” she says. “It’s not like ‘Oh, my God, I love myself so much.’ I was scared as hell.” She understands that the billboards are more than just about herself; it’s about representation. “The majority of my clients are minorities,” she explains. “I think they identify with me, and that’s who I want.” When Phoong Law traces their intake calls, their billboards are the No. 1 driving factor — and people aren’t just calling about legal services.
“I had a girl in Oakland, she was 12 years old, and her aunt reached out,” Phoong shares. The woman asked if the attorney had any merch to send her niece for her birthday. Phoong didn’t have any merch at the time, so instead she invited the girl out to lunch. (Since that encounter, however, the attorney is now on a shirt.)
As our dinner’s winding down, our server comes back with a slice of calamansi cream pie and recognizes who he’s been tending to all night. “Oh my God, you’re Anh Phoong!” he exclaims.
We all laugh at the interaction, a sure sign that Phoong has officially seeped into pop culture — our modern-day Angelyne, decked out in Gucci.
In early May, Phoong finally met Alpha Andromeda. The attorney found herself back at the club for the reopening of the Stud, a historic queer bar in San Francisco that closed during the pandemic. There was already buzz that Phoong would be making an appearance that night. “This is the absolute CAMPIEST thing I’ve ever seen,” someone commented on the bar’s Instagram flier featuring the lawyer. A line began to form, and any bystander would’ve thought Lady Gaga was in the house.
Phoong didn’t expect that reaction at all. “Is she even a lawyer? She’s just out there having fun,” she worried, telling me that she almost didn’t go that night. But just like the times she put herself on a speaker or her first billboard, Phoong told herself that night, “You know what? F— it. I want to do this.”
Production: Mere Studios
Makeup: Daphne Chantell Del Rosario
Hair: Adrian Arredondo
Photo assistant: Jeremy Sinclair
Styling assistant: Kelly Sachiko Page
Phillipe Thao is an entertainment and culture writer. His work has appeared in the Washington Post, Teen Vogue, InStyle and Catapult.
Lifestyle
James Burrows, director of classic shows ‘Cheers’ and ‘Friends,’ dies at 85
Director James Burrows attends the “Will & Grace” start of production kick off event and ribbon cutting ceremony at Universal City Plaza on August 2, 2017 in Universal City, California.
Jason LaVeris/Getty Images
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Jason LaVeris/Getty Images
LOS ANGELES — James Burrows, who helped create volumes of laughter as director of more than a thousand episodes of such classic television comedies as “Cheers,” “Taxi,” “Friends” and “Will and Grace,” died Friday. He was 85.
His family confirmed his death in a statement to People, saying he “passed away peacefully today surrounded by his family.” No location or cause of death was provided.
Burrows spent his career behind the camera specializing in situation comedies. Few viewers recognized him or knew his name, other than to see it flash quickly on the screen in the opening credits. But they knew his work.
Burrows got his start in television relatively late at age 35 in 1974, directing episodes of “The Mary Tyler Moore Show,” “The Bob Newhart Show,” and “Laverne & Shirley.”
He co-created “Cheers,” directing 243 of the 273 episodes, as well as all 246 episodes of “Will and Grace.”
He also helmed multiple episodes of such hits as “Frasier,” “Friends” and “Mike & Molly,” and the pilots of “Two and a Half Men” and “The Big Bang Theory.”
“When I direct a television show, I try to reach that sweet spot where the best script meets the best performance and the best chemistry between performers,” Burrows wrote in his 2022 memoir “Directed by James Burrows.” “Hitting that exact moment, where these factors land in combination, results in the sweetest and most enduring laugh.”
His family said, “Burrows understood that great comedy was never simply about laughter. It was about humanity, connection, and truth. That understanding became the foundation of a career that forever changed television.
“But beyond his remarkable achievements, Burrows will be remembered for something even greater: his kindness, generosity, and unwavering belief in the people around him. He possessed a rare ability to make everyone better and was known for remembering every person he met by name, making colleagues at every level feel seen, valued, and appreciated,” the family statement said.
Born James Edward Burrows on Dec. 30, 1940, in Los Angeles, he moved to New York when he was 5 years old. He spent five years in the Metropolitan Opera Children’s Chorus until his voice started to change. He attended LaGuardia High School of Music & Art.
His father was writer, director and producer Abe Burrows, whose Broadway hits included “Guys and Dolls” and “Can-Can.” The elder Burrows also mentored Larry Gelbart, future creator and producer of the TV show “M(asterisk)A(asterisk)S(asterisk)H.”
The younger Burrows spent hours of his youth in theaters and studios watching his father work, dining with him at such famed New York haunts as Sardi’s and Gallagher’s and meeting celebrities who attended his father’s New Year’s Eve parties.
After earning a bachelor’s degree from Oberlin College, Burrows attended the graduate program of the Yale School of Drama, where his classmates included actor-comedian Robert Klein, playwright John Guare and film director John Badham.
At Yale, he was required to take directing classes and he got hooked.
Burrows’ first sitcom experience was as Burl Ives’ dialogue coach on “O.K. Crackerby!” which was directed by his father and ran for one season on ABC in 1965.
From there, he was an assistant on “The Patty Duke Show.” He moved back to New York and worked for Broadway producers Lee Guber, Frank Ford and Shelly Gross. He first met actor Moore while working on the Broadway production of “Holly Golightly,” an adaptation of “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” that was directed by his father.
Burrows eventually worked as a stage manager for various road productions, where he met such actors as Hugh O’Brien, Zsa Zsa Gabor and Julie Harris.
By 1974, after working in dinner theater and summer stock, he turned on his television and saw Moore’s eponymous TV show. He wrote her a letter asking if there was any opening “small or smaller” at her production company that he could fill, according to his memoir.
Moore’s husband and business partner, Grant Tinker, invited Burrows to Los Angeles to direct an episode of the comedy. He apprenticed for MTM Enterprises, which had four sitcoms on the air at the same time.
Burrows cited his theater background for learning how to give actors direction and block out scenes. He’s credited for being one of the first sitcom directors to increase the typical multi-camera television shoot from three to four cameras.
The common thread between Burrows’ shows were the bonds between friends and unrelated families, whether it was the motley crew of regulars meeting at the bar in “Cheers” or the drivers working toward a better life in “Taxi” or the 20-somethings sharing the same apartment building in “Friends.”
“The best sitcoms transcend the screen and reach out and grab the audience by the throat and by the heart,” Burrows wrote in his memoir.
He relished discovering new acting talent while directing more than 75 pilots that were picked up as series.
“Having directed over a thousand shows means that almost any night you can turn on your television or go online and find a show that I directed. I’m very proud of that,” he wrote in his memoir.
In 2019, Burrows was an executive producer on live productions of “All in the Family” and “The Jeffersons” with famous actors re-creating episodes of those 1970s comedies.
Burrows was married in 1997 to Debbie Easton, whom he met when she worked as a hairstylist on “Frasier.” Daughters Kat Schatzow, Ellie Gluck and Maggie Burrows, who followed her father into directing, are from his first marriage to Linda Solomon, who died in 2004. His stepdaughter Paris is from his wife’s previous marriage. He has a sister, Laurie Burrows Grad, and seven grandchildren.
Lifestyle
Beer, with a twist? SoCal dads find solidarity through an unexpected activity
GOLETA — For a few minutes, the atmosphere inside Captain Fatty’s Brewery in Santa Barbara County was quiet, different from the usual Friday night clamor.
On this late May evening, the 15 men gathered there were contemplating tackling something few had previously had the courage or skill to take on. Austin Nieves, a recent transplant to the area and the man who had brought this brave group together, broke the strained silence by handing out beers.
Within minutes, the men, who ranged in age from 30 to 60, began chatting among themselves.
Then they started braiding hair.
The May 22 event — Goleta’s version of the viral U.K.-inspired “Pints and Ponytails” night — was sold out. The idea is to have expert hairstylists train uninitiated or intimidated fathers on how to comb and braid their kids’ hair, using salon-type head mannequins but in a setting for bros.
“When the first guys got there, they were stiff,” said Nieves, a Pasadena native who moved to Santa Barbara in April 2025. “Then after that first beer, they went from sitting around the edge of the bar to jumping right into learning and giving it a shot.”
Dads group members Dan Ucko, left, and Eric Schalla participate in the hairstyling event at Captain Fatty’s Brewery in Goleta.
The gathering was one of several father functions by the Santa Barbara Dads group, which Nieves founded last spring.
May’s papa party offered, along with the suds, a learning experience and camaraderie among fathers, which Nieves believes is much needed.
“When my wife had our son, she immediately became part of at least five mom groups and classes that offered her help, advice, friendship and training,” Nieves said. “As a first-time father, I really only had my brothers, who had children themselves, to turn to.”
Scientific studies have shown that as fathers have taken a more active role in child rearing, they’ve faced loneliness, doubt and confusion.
Researchers Chris Knoester and David J. Eggebeen wrote in 2006 in the “Journal of Family Issues” that fatherhood leads “to declines in feelings of well-being and participation in social activities” as fathers spend less time with friends.
Clinical psychologists Hillary Halpern and Maureen Perry-Jenkins documented that the transition from single life to fatherhood is often accompanied by a roller coaster of emotions. And researchers from Stockholm’s Karolinska Institute determined in a 2021 study that fathers might require help “during their transition to fatherhood.”
Eric Drachman, of Santa Barbara, center, pays close attention as hair stylist Chi Jou Lin, left, teaches a group of dads how to style their daughters’ hair.
A detail of one of the mannequin heads.
One such way to assist men is specifically a fathers group, according to the 2021 study.
Most men “were mostly satisfied with participating in father groups and described that they positively impacted their relationship with their partner and child.”
The increased contact also helped improve “their self-confidence and family equality and decreased their loneliness.”
Nieves agreed that his leisure time and focus changed sharply after the birth of his child, Hudson, now 3 years old, as did his friend group updates.
“They were talking about all this crazy fun or TV shows and I was talking about my son being able to lift his head,” Nieves said. “That’s when I knew I had to branch out.”
Nieves, then living in Costa Mesa with his wife, Katie, created the Orange County Dads club in October 2023.
Scientific studies have shown that as fathers have taken a more active role in child rearing, they’ve faced loneliness, doubt and confusion.
His group of merry men held meetups at coffee shops, beer halls and the zoo, hosted holiday hootenannies and even offered CPR classes.
Its success helped spawn a chapter in the Whittier area.
Though strictly a fathers club, the group, Nieves said, has grown thanks to wives and partners sharing his social media posts with their husbands.
Mikhail Alfon, founder of Blue Light Media, a social media strategy agency, took his son, Santos, to multiple Orange County meetups.
“This is our first child and obviously life changes a lot,” said Alfon in a social media post. “Finding peers and friends that are in the same stage of life is great.”
That sense of community, however, faced a challenge as Nieves and his family purchased a home in Santa Barbara and moved in April 2025.
Peter Aguilar, left, and Fredy Medel work on their technique. Medel’s partner, Daniela Fajardo, holding their 1-year-old daughter, Faylani, records the event.
Within a month, however, he had established a Santa Barbara-based dads group. Their first meetup was in May 2025, and they’ve made a point to gather once a month.
Austin Jones, a Santa Barbara-based real estate agent and investor, found Nieves through Instagram.
“I’m a husband, a dad and businessman, and it ends up being a lot of hats but very little support, at times,” Jones said. “It’s nice to find people in the trenches with you.”
Jones was intrigued by Pints and Ponytails as he’s battled the hair-care needs of his 2 ½-year-old daughter, Noa, and her textured, curly locks.
In a short while, Jones had gained enough confidence in whipping his mannequin’s hair into a ponytail that he vowed to try with his daughter soon.
“I was only pretty good at putting on a headband before this,” he quipped.
The six mannequin heads and the hour of instruction came courtesy of Santa Barbara cosmetologist Chi Jou “Belle” Lin, who offers area mobile services.
“I saw the social media post and a lot of people reached out to me to teach the class,” Lin said. “I had to help.”
Lin said the mannequins she brought varied in hair length and type, from straight to coily, but also fine in texture, as she tried to replicate young children’s hair.
A pint of beer, hairstyling tools and sprays.
She also taught the fathers basic hair-care techniques, including shampooing, detangling, checking for lice and how to tie ponytails and braids.
Even if they started out reticent, the fathers became active participants, asking questions about creating a neat French braid, what to do about tangled ponytails and how to deal with frightened children, Lin said.
“I was really impressed with the dads and their skills and the real-life questions,” said the stylist, who has personal experience at home in her 2 ½-year-old daughter, Lotus. “Not all men have the courage to ask questions.”
For Nieves, the secret in gaining new dads and retaining others is simplicity.
“If you open the door, the fathers will follow because everyone can use some help,” Nieves said. “But they just need to know it exists and they’re not alone.”
Dads Gabriel Sandoval, left, Jose Guerrero and David Talavera toast one another at the May 22 Santa Barbara County Dads’ “Pints and Ponytails” event in Goleta.
Days after the Goleta get-together, Santa Barbara dad Eric Drachman became a celebrity at the preschool of his daughter, Noa, who is soon to be 3.
“When the videos of the event were posted, the teachers at the school recognized me,” Drachman said. “They would ask my daughter, ‘Who did your hair?’”
The query that means most, however, is when Noa asks her father to fix her hair.
“She asks occasionally,” he said. “It‘s such a fun dynamic we have.”
Lifestyle
This Pride month, teen flicks are recasting familiar tropes with a queer sensibility
Stacy Clausen and Joe Bird in Leviticus.
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NEON
Summer movies aimed at high-schoolers — comedies, romances, horror flicks — have been a tradition for ages. Think Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Dirty Dancing and the original Friday the 13th, which all drew hot-weather crowds back in the 1980s.
This summer, the movies are queer — not just in casting, but in method and purpose. These three teen flicks transform familiar movie styles by bringing them an LGBTQ sensibility.
A raunchy comedy: She’s the He
YouTube
You know the drill: a bonkers lose-my-virginity plan is hatched by inseparable high-school best buds who are so eager to get girls to notice them, they can hardly think straight.
So, they don’t think … straight. For reasons that could only make sense to horny 17-year-olds, Ethan and Alex decide the way to catch the attention of the school’s hottest girls is to pretend to be trans.
Filmmaker Siobhan McCarthy uses that premise to tell a sweet story about Ethan (who realizes mid-scam that she really is trans), while also mocking some of the more ridiculous transphobic notions — “bathroom scare,” anyone? — that have been politically weaponized recently.
When the whole football team decides that donning women’s attire is a small price to pay to get access to the girls’ locker room, McCarthy prompts boisterous laughs while also establishing how idiotic and unlikely this scenario would be in real life. Casting trans men — say, team captain played by Emmett Preciado — as the cis male characters allows McCarthy to further poke at conservative anxieties.
As leads Alex and Ethan, Nico Carney (a sharp trans comic whose read on toxic masculinity proves hilarious), and Misha Osherovich (sweetly affecting as Ethan discovers her true self) head a terrific, mostly trans and non-binary cast. And a similarly queer team behind the camera helps make She’s the He a raucous, touching, seriously fun charmer — think Some Like It Hot meets American Pie with a Heartstopper vibe.
The romance: Girls Like Girls
YouTube
This gentle teen love story sprang from a hit song Hayley Kiyoko released in 2015. The music video that accompanied the song pictured a budding lesbian romance and has since racked up over 160 million YouTube views. In 2023, Kiyoko penned a young adult book version, which debuted at the top of bestseller lists. Now, she’s brought all of those elements together in a movie about Coley (Maya da Costa) and Sonya (Myra Molloy), two 17-year-old girls navigating a summer romance that takes both of them by surprise.
First-time filmmaker Kiyoko seems content to honor teen romance conventions in a more or less by-the-book tale of first love that has been through enough permutations to feel vaguely workshopped. Still, she’s gotten engaging performances from her leads, as well as from a supporting cast that includes Zach Braff as a loving dad, and Levon Hawke (son of Ethan Hawke and Uma Thurman) as Sonya’s jealous boyfriend.
The horror thriller: Leviticus
YouTube
First-time feature writer/director Adrian Chiarella uses horror conventions in this Australian thriller to explore the trauma caused by a particularly callous strain of homophobic cruelty. The story is centered in a small mill town where high school boys Naim (Joe Bird) and Ryan (Stacy Clausen) fall for each other, only to run afoul of the conservative teachings of their religious community.
Chiarella imagines a Christian sect that has put conversion therapy on steroids, curbing queer desire with a scare-away-the-gay ritual that conjures supernatural demons. The boys smirk as church leaders conduct the ritual, but later discover that when they’re left alone, they’re attacked by murderous entities that take the form of the person they love — each other. Soon, reaching out to — even just seeing each other in school hallways fills them with anxiety. This is, of course, the design: the church leaders want them to be scared. And it will never end.
It’s a conversion therapy metaphor as apt for gay kids as the metaphor in Jordan Peele’s thriller Get Out was for victims of racial bigotry.
Breathtakingly well-crafted, Leviticus clearly has queer teen audiences in mind — all three of these films do — but not exclusively. Yes, Leviticus fills a representation gap. It’s also freakin’ scary.


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