Long before dating apps and rainbow crosswalks, West Hollywood’s gay nightlife pulsed with electricity—and not all of it stayed indoors. Behind the polished facades of Santa Monica Boulevard, a short, nondescript alleyway earned a reputation as one of L.A.'s most notorious gay cruising spots. Locals knew it simply as Vaseline Alley.

What (and Where) Was Vaseline Alley?

Vaseline Alley wasn’t an official name on any city map. It was the colloquial nickname for the alley running behind the gay bars on the 8800 block of Santa Monica Boulevard—between San Vicente and Larrabee. Sandwiched between The Abbey, Trunks, and other staples of WeHo nightlife, the alley offered a darker, more secretive counterpoint to the neon-lit world out front.

It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t polished. But for decades, Vaseline Alley was where things happened—after the bar, before the Uber, in the shadows. At a time when public expressions of gay desire were still heavily policed, this back-alley space carved out room for something raw (if you’ll forgive the expression) and immediate.

Circus of Books Connection

Vaseline Alley and Circus of Books were two sides of the same unapologetically gay coin in West Hollywood. While Vaseline Alley was the unofficial back passage (for what of a better expression), Circus of Books stood just a short walk away as the more public (but no less transgressive) face of gay sexual culture. The bookstore sold porn, rented tapes, and hosted a legendary backroom of its own. Together, they formed a kind of ecosystem: Vaseline Alley fed the appetite for spontaneous connection, while Circus of Books stocked the fantasies in the form of magazines and VHS tapes. Both were essential landmarks in West Hollywood’s sexual underground.

Vaseline Alley's Cruising Legacy

At its peak, Vaseline Alley was infamous. Rumors and stories circulated about late-night trysts, and spontaneous encounters tucked between dumpsters and fire exits. It was the kind of place where cruising culture thrived—not out of convenience, but necessity. For many gay men, especially in the pre-Grindr years, it was one of the few places where desire could be acted on without judgment or exposure.

Of course, that visibility came with risk. Police crackdowns, media scrutiny, and public health campaigns eventually brought more attention to Vaseline Alley—some of it cautionary, some of it puritanical. Still, the legend endured.

What Remains Today?

Vaseline Alley isn’t what it used to be. West Hollywood has cleaned up, built up, and leaned into its polished reputation as an LGBTQ+ destination. Security cameras watch from rooftops. Police presence is higher. The alley itself is still there—technically public, but no longer the free-for-all of decades past.

That said, the memory lingers. Older locals remember. Stories still get told. And on a quiet night, if you pass by just after last call, you might feel a flicker of that old energy. Some still cruise there—cautiously, quietly, and very much in the know.