The Last Bookstore is a lot more than a bookstore. It’s a Los Angeles institution. To begin with, it’s big. The downtown location feels almost overwhelming when you step in, immersing its visitors in a library-like atmosphere that smells like books and feels historic (no, seriously, they have columns holding up the cavernous space). Despite its size, it feels almost claustrophobic in parts: there are books stacked up and around you everywhere you look. The books are not just the product, but a part of the structural architecture of the space. It’s dim enough to feel a little mysterious, like a well-traveled grandparent’s attic. It’s maze-like enough to feel intimate and cozy: it’s not hard to find a corner to yourself, even though the place is generally teeming with wide eyed book lovers armed with smartphone cameras (and, often enough, fancier DSLRs & film cameras).

At the end of the day, The Last Bookstore is just a really cool and big bookstore (the biggest of its kind in California). They sell (and buy and trade) new books, used and collectible books and records. There’s an annex dedicated to arts and rare books. Upstairs the mezzanine level is aptly called the labyrinth, featuring the classic photo ops (you’ll know when you see it) and galleries and shops for more quirky artsy stuff. It’s easy to get lost in a book in here, but probably more fun to just get lost in the store itself. And in this day and age, it’s truly a gem worth coveting.