Authors: Leslie Le Mon
One broad façade of
Elias & Co.
is a textbook example of Art Deco, lined with bold, symmetrical terracotta reliefs, and a row of industrial-style windows on the second level. Another entrance boasts a massive curved grille of glass and light metal, above a quintessentially Art Deco sunburst. (Hint: to find the sunburst, look up as you pass under the curved
Elias & Company
sign.) The third entrance, next door to the
Bugle
newspaper office, is crowned with highly stylized, narrow rays and geometric spirals.
The
Imagineers
really got the store designs right all through
Buena Vista Street
, as epitomized by
Elias & Co.
Shelves and racks are widely spaced and carefully stocked. There’s no crowding. You can clearly see the merchandise in every direction, and the rooms feel spacious and airy, not overstuffed. Natural light flows into the store through windows and transoms, and at night, the beyond-gorgeous, crystalline chandeliers, crafted in dynamic sculpted shapes, cast an elegant glow.
Have you ever visited a fine old department store?
Elias & Co.
is the dream collage of those proud establishments, now all but extinct. There is a section designated for every shopper’s needs. Department stores, like theme parks, are divided into “lands”.
The children’s department is particularly spacious and airy, with gentle pinks on the walls and elegant blues on the floor and ceiling. Celing lamps are cheerful sunbursts
with sun-and-moon patterns, and stars float on the ceiling’s deep blue. (Can your little ones spot the cow jumping over the moon?) Much of the clothing is placed on low shelves and racks, at a child’s eye level. Merchandise is clearly organized by age and theme–clothes, sunglasses, even magic wands and princess gloves.
The lady’s department is thoroughly symmetrical, all blond and brown and beige, rendered in marble, woods, and terrazzo. It gives one a warm feeling, like being
cradled within a topaz jewel. Witness the three slender crystal chandeliers, geometric flowers suspended above the entrance like gems of rock candy. T-shirts, jackets, pajamas, and accessories are thoughtfully arranged based on type and theme. Goods are fine quality, the prices consequently rather high. Service is very attentive, but–as is often the case in high-end venues–leisurely in pace.
The men’s department is heavily masculine, with darker woods–browns like leather, like cigars, like coffee, like whiskey–and intricat
e green and gold diamond patterns on the floor. Mannequins are arranged on a mezzanine, its three sections flanked by dark green curtains. The figures wear vintage attire referencing
Disney
’s period film
The Rocketeer
, and even
Walt
himself. Merchandise includes the usual T-shirts, jackets, hats, and accessories–especially for
Cars Land
and popular spooky attractions–as well as a cache of manly
Storytellers
wares, from prints to T-shirts, highball glasses, fedoras, and leather jackets.
Back when it was
Greetings from California
(it seems like a thousand years ago) this vast store once terminated at
Sunshine Plaza Candy
. The circular sweets shop has been completely refurbished as the jewelry, handbag, and accessories department. The walls are pale–almost Tiffany–blue. The carpet swims with intricately knotted blue geometric shapes. The ceiling is silver and white, the tiered crystal chandelier like a water spout frozen mid-motion. A silver decorative relief on the far wall depicts a slender Art Deco lass, all vertical lines, leaning on a slender Art Deco pillar. She is the muse of the place; she holds court while shoppers peruse the very beautiful, very expensive jewelry,
Dooney & Bourke
totes and bags, and high-end
Disney
clothing, figurines, and scarves.
Whether or not you buy anything, stroll through
Elias & Co.
, this wonderful time machine, and savor a bygone era, when anything felt possible, and probably was.
Elias
never made his mark the way he’d hoped to, but he raised amazing children who made the family dream come true.
Did You Know?
L.A.’s most glamorous department store was
Bullocks Wilshire
. It opened in 1929 on Wilshire Boulevard, and was an Art Deco masterpiece. This department-store-to-the-stars was frequented by
Walt
and
Lillian Disney
. You can still see the building if you drive past 3050 Wilshire Boulevard–but it’s a law school now.
Mom Vision:
Walt
’s mother
Flora
Call Disney
seems to receive far less ink and attention than his father
Elias
, and
Flora
has no formal tribute window or attraction at the resort (although the
Flora
boat at the
Storybook Land Canal
attraction might be a nod to her as well as to
Sleeping Beauty
fairy
Flora
). Based on the abundance of evil stepmothers and witches in the
Disney
canon, it would be easy to assume that
Walt
had a troubled relationship with his mother. On the contrary,
Flora
was by all accounts a lovely woman, admired by her five children, and
Walt
seems to have inherited his playfulness and lighter side from his mother. She perished in 1938 due to gas fumes in the North Hollywood house that
Roy
and
Walt
had purchased for her and
Elias
. Though
Roy
and
Walt
had tried to have the gas furnace fixed (sadly, to no avail),
Walt
felt guilty about the tragic accident for the rest of his life. (
Flora
can be found at rest next to
Elias
at
Forest Lawn Memorial Park Cemetery
in
Glendale
, CA.) Most classic
Disney
tales lack a kindly mother figure–or any mother figure at all–and that might connect to
Walt
’s loss of his mother just as his feature-length animation empire was ramping up.
Flora Disney
might not have a tribute window on
Main Street
, but it’s possible the good fairy
Flora
in
Disney
’s
Sleeping Beauty
was named after
Walt
’s beloved mother. At any rate, the kindly surrogate mothers of the
Disney
tales–e.g., fairy godmothers–probably resemble
Flora Disney
. And
Flora
finally received a tribute hidden in plain sight within
Elias & Co.
Look for a pale pink beauty salon sign between the women’s department and children’s department. This fictitious establishment on the mezzanine (most fine old department stores offered salons for their female patrons) promises to “Style, Curl & Dry” women’s hair in the “Latest Styles and Fashions”. The name of this hair paradise?
Flora’s Beauty Parlor
.
Walt
would likely approve of this nod by the
Imagineers
to his beloved mother.
Holiday Vision:
Launching during 2012’s holiday season,
Elias & Co.
’s jewelry department is transformed into
Santa Claus
’ meet-and-greet, the designers taking their cues from classic department store
Santa
’s wonderlands of the era: Evergreen boughs and strands of greenery and big red bows, and, of course, a gorgeous old-time throne for
Santa
. Children queue patiently, if eagerly, to meet the “right jolly old elf” in a setting reminiscent of Bullocks Wilshire in its glamour days. At Christmastime, Bullocks (like the big departments stores of the East coast and Midwest) presented department-store Santas on thrones, and Santa booklets for the kids, and elegant holiday boxes to cradle the fancy goods purchased by well-to-do patrons.
Julius Katz & Sons
/ Julius Katz Shoe & Watch Repair
[
FastView:
Household and kitchen goods and miscellaneous knick-knacks, but the star here is the lovely décor. Look for
Hidden Mickeys
and
Disney
references.
]
When little
Alice
–of
Disney
’s
Alice Comedies
(1923 – 1927)–visited animated realms in
Cartoonland
, she had a pal with her–
Julius the Cat
, to be precise. Before
Oswald the Lucky Rabbit
, before
Mickey Mouse
, there was
Julius
. The feline was
Walt
’s first regularly recurring animated character.
The
Alice Comedies
–
Walt
and his team cranked out more than fifty of them all told–were instrumental in launching
Disney
as an entertainment studio.
Walt
had begun the series in
Kansas City
, and brought the film reels with him to Los Angeles; finding a distributor and continuing the series is what gave
Disney Studios
its initial start.
A combination of live action and animation, the films featured a girl named
Alice
who went on exciting, exotic adventures, accompanied by
Julius the Cat
.
Buena Vista Street
’s
Julius Katz
shops sell
Disney
figurines, and decorative household items, and kitchen tools. There are glasses and blankets and picture frames and ornaments and Vinylmation dolls and postcards and pens. All of it is wonderful; none of it is terribly exotic. But the shop space is beautiful–vintage wallpaper, detailed wood carving, photos, and clever sight gags—and the floor is covered by a beautiful, intricate, Persian-style carpet of blue and red that puts one in mind of magic carpet rides.
Alice
took a lot of journeys of the imagination–to the circus, to the jungle, to the rodeo, to the Alps—and she fought fires, and escaped cannibals, and even went to jail. And every step of the way, little
Julius
was beside her, often helping to extricate them from whatever dire situation they were in.
Julius
is a black-and-white cartoon cat who strikingly resembles the far more famous (and longer-lasting) Felix the Cat. Felix has larger eyes, a bigger smile, and a shorter, rounder torso than
Julius
, but otherwise they look almost identical. Felix first appeared in 1919. It is generally understood that the design of
Julius
–like the early animated version of Krazy Kat–was inspired by Felix.
This imitation is typical of Hollywood, then and now; when cats are doing well, theater owners and distributors want more cats; when mice are the rage, more mice; and following
Disney
’s success with
The Three Little Pigs
(1933), everyone wanted to see “more pigs”. A theater owner actually telegraphed to
Disney
, “More Pigs,” and though
Disney
did craft three follow-up cartoons,
Walt
kept moving forward. One of his most famous quotes:
You can’t top pigs with pigs
.
So
Julius
was an early, transitional figure, derivative of Felix the Cat, not destined for long-lasting fame, except as a trivia question or footnote to
Disney
history. But without
Alice
and
Julius
, there would never have been
Oswald
and, later,
Mickey
, and all that followed, so
Julius
certainly deserves this nod, however camouflaged, at the
Julius Katz
shops on
Buena Vista Street
.
Perhaps because
Julius the Cat
is something of a lost figure in
Disney
’s pantheon, the backstory that the
Imagineers
developed for his shops has no discernible connection to the original character. On
Buena Vista Street
, the simple mythology is that
Julius Katz
, a hard-working immigrant, opened a repair shop, and his sons later expanded the business into the shop next door.
Katz
and his sons are committed to quality and value–shades of
Walt
.