To me, this kind of establishment represents a bygone era. An era left to burn out among the renovations of our modern society. Yet, there is a definitive charm still lurking underneath the surface. It's about as authentic as vintage gets. It isn't shtick-y or being retro for the sake of creating a fictional experience. We are seeing a lot of that right now with nostalgic value forever being pushed to the limit. But places like The Soda Pop Shop retain an essence of authenticity only matched with years of deterioration and decline. But only in appearance, mind you. It's a part of Hollywood that I know only exists in the recesses of the shadows. There are places all over the world like this. They're like golden time machines waiting to be discovered and celebrated.
The first thing that struck me about the business is that the floor tiles was completely ripped up and broken. The black tar-like flooring peaked out among the rubbled ceramic tiles as a lifetime of foot traffic successfully wore the very foundation down. They only had one, maybe two cash registers and they were primitive by today's high tech standards. The wood paneling and wall texture only added to the dated, tacky persona. I imagined for a moment that I was a single bachelor coming in here in 1982 to buy a case of Olympia beer and feeling completely in tune with it's surroundings. I physically felt the history run warm through my body. The ceiling hangers which fell above the aisles looked like they hadn't been moved in centuries. They were a tannish brown. As I made my way into the store, blocking my path were various pallets of stock displayed out on the floor. Much of it was still wrapped up in cellophane. The 6 or 7 long shelves that stood before me were jam packed with every kind of soda and liquid gold that you could imagine. Some were in 6 pack boxes. Others were individual bottles. There were long neck bottles and short stout bottles. It was a technicolor array of browns, reds, blues, greens, oranges, and blacks. It seemed endless and overwhelming. In the back I spotted a meat counter. But inside the glass displays was only more soda containers. The walls lining the left side of the store was all coolers. I didn't know where to start. I walked up and down the aisles only getting an eagle eye view of what was in stock before I started over from the beginning to narrow down my search.
I am, and always have been, a connoisseur of cream soda. You can imagine my excitement when there were brands of cream soda that I had never even heard of. Much of which wound up in my basket. There was also an impressive collection of coffee sodas. I remember when Coke blak had hit the market years ago. It failed to make much of impression on me, but I partook in this strange bottle of turkish espresso soda. It wasn't bad, but nothing I'd want to get in the habit of ingesting on a daily basis.
The primary focus of this trip was to experience a history lesson in everyday design. It seems that our culture is so disposable in these modern times. A multitude of brands, images, emotions, and visual artifacts are so quickly changed many times through that we hardly have time to stop and soak it all in. One minute, it's screaming in your face and the next, it's yesterday's news only to make way for the next thing to come careening in at a rapid pace. Places like the Soda Pop Shop is a great example of a time frozen in space for us to experience. I'd recommend any design nerd looking for a chance to experience a rare chance of a tacky past to stop by this shop.
Here are some of my favorite labels and brands of soda that found while on my visit.
