The Old Montecito
An exploratory series about a storied community's past and changing identity
Welcome to a series of Beachtown Bohemia posts about Montecito, an unincorporated part of Santa Barbara County that is more of a household name now than it has ever been. While I am not an historian nor a journalist, I come to this series as a keen observer of place with a background in architecture, city design, and a weakness for California material culture. When my family moved to Montecito in 2017, it was such an emotional homecoming to my native state (we’d done an eight year stint in Chicago) that I found myself welling up with tears at the sight of ice plant. Montecito, while quite different in culture to my hometown of Santa Cruz, is still innately a coastal California town — I envision them as first cousins with distinct personalities that share the same ocean-to-mountain DNA. I found myself, however, drawn to Montecito’s cinematic local lore. I’d listen with wide eyes to my friends who grew up here. Whispers of massive skate ramps hidden on the grounds of crumbling estates where heaving punk parties were held in the era of the band RKL (Rich Kids on LSD.) Sites of former gas stations that have now become beloved parks. I’ve heard stories of heiresses and debauched youths at the Coral Casino Club in the Reagan Era making mischief, and of course tales of Jacques, the local legend perma-tan French lifeguard at the beach in front of the old Miramar Hotel. I love these stories of the old Montecito because they speak to a specific place’s collective memory. With so many new faces in Montecito, it’s sometimes hard to connect to it’s past. I seek in this series to document some of these stories, primarily as heard from the local denizens who lived it. We start next week.
Do you have a marvelous vintage Montecito story to share? Please send me a note via the button below. Anonymous storytellers welcome too.
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