A man with no cultural scene will often invent his own. Taylor Steele did just that. When the award-winning producer and director returned to North County two years ago after living in NYC, Australia, and Bali, he sought to reignite the creative community at home, and only one place would do: the historic La Paloma Theater in Encinitas, where he grew up watching films like Searching for Tom Curren on the ratty seats.
“La Paloma is the mecca for surf premieres, but there was no festival here,” says Steele, whose explosive 1992 rockumentary-style film Momentum inspired a generation of surfers to elevate the sport into an art form. His second annual Solento Film Festival takes place Sept. 22-25 at the 1928 Spanish Colonial icon. It’s a legacy story for Steele, who flipped the script with Sipping Jetstreams and Proximity and went on to art direct campaigns for Corona, Apple and HBO.
Last year’s festival debuted to a full house that included industry giants like Kelly Slater, Rob Machado and Mick Fanning. They were lured by more than movies; music has been a crucial part of Steele’s oeuvre ever since his early VHS films helped to boost SoCal bands like The Offspring and blink-182. During this year’s festival, concerts will be held on an outdoor stage at Seaside Reef, Steele’s home break.
One of the festival’s sponsors is Steele’s very own certified organic tequila brand, Solento, packaged in a Chanel N°5-inspired bottle. It’s a long way from the early days of surf films at La Paloma. “There was always the sound of beer bottles rolling down the aisle,” says Steele, legs outstretched on the seats in front of him. “It’s a rite of passage for every filmmaker to show here.”
Last year’s Olympics in Paris delivered plenty of unforgettable moments—a metal band performing alongside a headless Marie Antoinette in a 13th-century castle, breakdancing’s short-lived debut (sorry, Raygun), and even Snoop Dogg serving as a torchbearer. But some of the most memorable concerned our own hometown heroes.
Sixty San Diegans competed for Team USA, earning 25 medals across eight sports, with gold medalists including then-Wave FC players Naomi Girma and Jaedyn Shaw, basketball star Kelsey Plum, and cyclist Jennifer Valente. Encinitas’ own Jagger Eaton hit the street park as one of only three Americans representing the country in men’s street skateboarding, nabbing a silver medal finish. And while TikTok-famous local “rave horse” Suppenkasper and his rider Steffen Peters, beloved for their EDM-fueled dressage routines, didn’t make it to the finals, the 17-year-old gelding had audiences eating out of the palm of his, uh, hoof from the very first beat drop.
The next Chucky Lozano might soon be honing his skills right down the road in El Cajon. San Diego FC kicked off its inaugural season in February and quickly proved itself a force within MLS (at press time, it sits at number one in the Western Conference). With it came the Right to Dream Academy, a scholarship-based academic and training facility where promising players as young as 11 will prepare for a bright future in the pro league under top-tier tutelage.
Best Triple Play
San Diego Padres
Picture it: Padres against the hated Dodgers in LA. With two runners on, the fate of the Padres’ 2024 postseason rests on one play. Bottom of the ninth inning. No outs. Padres closer Robert Suárez is looking to hang on to a 4–2 lead. Crack—a ground ball to Manny Machado. Machado tags third and fires to second. Jake Cronenworth turns it and beats the runner at first. Just like that, San Diego pulls off an unforgettable triple play and clinches their playoff berth. Easily the most cathartic moment in San Diego sports in the last year.
Best Next Step For a Fútbol Phenom
Alex Morgan
As one chapter ends, another kicks off. San Diego’s favorite WNSL icon, Alex Morgan, officially hung up her cleats (along with her number-13 jersey, which the team is retiring in her honor) for good in September 2024 after her final game with San Diego Wave FC against the North Carolina Courage. But before you get too emotional, she also dropped the much happier news that baby number two was on the way.
True to form, she’s not slowing down anytime soon. She’s staying in the game as a minority investor in the Wave, continuing her mission to uplift women in sports and ensure the next generation has even more room to shine.
2024 was a big year for San Diego State alum and world-ranked number-three golfer Xander Schauffele. Following a near-perfect round of 62 at Kentucky’s Valhalla Golf Club, tying the lowest round ever scored in a Major championship, he secured a narrow PGA Tour win over titan Bryson DeChambeau. Fast forward to July, and Schauffele brought his A-game to the Open Championship at Royal Troon Golf Club in Scotland. Battling wind, rain, and the course’s punishing bunkers, Schauffele was one of only 17 golfers to break par throughout the tournament.
Courtesy of Lori Walton
Best Legend We’ll Miss
Bill Walton
We said goodbye to a local icon this year: 6’11 NCAA Hall of Famer Bill Walton. Born in La Mesa, Walton played basketball at Helix High with his brother Bruce (who later became an NFLer) before making his mark at UCLA under legendary coach John Wooden. He won three straight NCAA Player of the Year awards (’72–’74) and was the first overall pick in the 1974 NBA Draft. Leading the Portland Trail Blazers to their only NBA championship in 1977, Walton became a beloved sports legend. A devoted Deadhead, he attended more than 800 Grateful Dead concerts and spent his later years deeply involved in community work, leaving a lasting legacy.
Best Record Breaker
Caitlin Simmers
Growing up in Oceanside, Caitlin Simmers had always gravitated toward the activities that make a California beach city what it is. She dabbled in BMX, dance, martial arts, and skateboarding, but found her calling in surfing at age 6. Now, at 19, she is in her third year of the World Surf League Champions Tour and part of the USA Olympic team. Last year, at Lower Trestles, only 20 miles from her hometown, she notched a pretty serious resume builder: She became the youngest woman winner of the World Surf League Final.
Every year, when winter swells bring San Diego’s best waves to their fullest potential, local surfers flood the lineups of popular spots like Black’s and Swami’s. But some of the heaviest and most dangerous surf lies further south, off the coast of Imperial Beach. The area’s crown jewel, Tijuana Sloughs, sometimes serves up 20-plus-foot waves that break up to a half-mile from shore.
Even as the surfing population has exploded, however, IB remains empty in comparison to the rest of San Diego, thanks to the pollution that plagues its waters. Surfers in IB don’t just check the surf cams and swell forecasts—they monitor the water data from the nearby International Boundary and Water Commission.
“It’s almost a science to go out for a surf and not get sick,” says resident Dwayne Fernandez. “My wife hates that I still surf here; she gets worried. I check the reports every day to see if it’s safe, which has been rare these days. If it’s not, I may have to drive over an hour just to get in the ocean—and I live minutes from the beach in IB.”
Photo Credit: Ariana Drehsler Dwayne Fernandez says his wife hates that he still surfs in IB. He lives near the beach but often must drive more than an hour to surf where water conditions are safer.
According to the Surfrider Foundation, IB has the unfortunate distinction of being the most polluted beach in America. Built in 1996 with the capacity to manage 25 million gallons of wastewater a day, the nearby South Bay International Wastewater Treatment Plant (SBIWTP) is frequently overwhelmed. Anything that exceeds the limits of the SBIWTP comes out as raw sewage, clearly visible in the water as a dark brown plume with an accompanying nasty smell.
The sewage flow can sometimes hit hundreds of millions of gallons in a single day. “You don’t want to be out there when that happens, and it can happen quickly,” says Adam Wraight, an Imperial Beach lifeguard sergeant, junior lifeguard coordinator, and longtime local surfer.
Courtesy of Surfrider Foundation
But that hasn’t stopped some residents, despite mandates prohibiting surfing and swimming during beach closures. If the waves are good, surfers are probably out there. Why take the chance, though, when there are so many other good waves—with cleaner water—in the county?
It’s partly a point of local pride. The surf history in IB runs deep. Stories of the Tijuana Sloughs on its good days are the stuff of legend, discussed in hushed tones in the core San Diego surf community.
Photo Credit: Kevin Stuart Former lifeguard and IB resident Jeff Knox braves toxic conditions to surf his local waves.
“The Sloughs was never a spot meant for everyone,” says Jeff Knox, a former lifeguard and lifelong IB surfer. “The paddle-out alone was enough of a deterrent for most. The shorebreak took care of the rest. It’s mostly locals out there; we like it that way. It’s one of the best waves around and, for that very reason, we never used to talk about it. But those days are long gone. We need all the help we can get—the more attention, the better. Because this is a huge problem.”
It’s also been part of the deal for decades. “I started surfing IB in the ’60s, [and] we’ve always had to deal with pollution,” Knox adds. “Throughout my entire life, it’s never been as bad as the last 10 years. The last five have been absolutely terrible.”
Additionally, there’s the simple fact of convenience. While IB’s median rent cost of $3,000 is well under the staggering housing costs in other surf-adjacent ’hoods like Encinitas and Del Mar, locals still pay a pretty penny to live a few blocks from the beach. And they often pay a price for surfing there.
Photo Credit: Jeff Knox Imperial Beach is considered the most polluted beach in the United States, with dangerous levels of bacteria caused by millions of gallons of raw sewage regularly flowing directly into the sea.
Scientists have identified 175 toxic pollutants in IB’s waters. Surfers have contracted everything from diarrhea and bacterial infections like MRSA to neurological disorders and hepatitis A.
“As a lifeguard, I see all the data. I check the flows daily and monitor the testing just to see if I can go for a surf during my break or after work. There are plenty of people who don’t check anything—they just see waves and go out—but even they get spooked when they hit the water and everything feels and smells wrong,” Wraight says. “Our responsibilities are definitely different from other [lifeguard] stations and, unfortunately, so much of what we do revolves around the pollution. It can get pretty negative, and it takes a toll on morale and recruitment.”
The problem has driven some local diehards from the water completely. Ramon Chairez, an activist and educator with the nonprofit Un Mar de Colores, has lived in IB for decades, but in 2020, he “made a conscious decision to stop surfing IB,” he says. “I saw too many people around me getting sick. It wasn’t worth it. The last five to 10 years have really been pivotal in the consciousness of the population, especially the kids—they know it’s polluted and unsafe.”
As a junior lifeguard coordinator, Wraight once trained the next generation in IB. But, now, he and the local kids he works with must travel to other beaches in the county. YMCA’s Camp Surf, a program that attracts children and teens from all over the nation with the allure of learning to surf in San Diego, can no longer take participants into the area’s waters.
Photo Credit: Ariana Drehsler
They must head to other neighborhoods or stick to land-based activities. “The biggest tragedy is the youth,” Wraight says. “They’re growing up not being able to enjoy the ocean like we did—their whole life experience is affected by the pollution.”
Despite the toxic water, IB still feels like a classic beach town, a callback to a time before $8 lattes and luxury condos dominated the coast. It’s charming, quaint, and beautiful, with the open space of the Tijuana Estuary to the south, mountains in the distance, and the mighty Pacific to the west. It has one of the most unique coastal views of all of San Diego—and some of its best waves. If only you could safely surf them.
Chris Dodds has been falling in love with San Diego for the past 10 years. He's passionate about the protection and preservation of our natural areas, especially our coastline and waterways.
The bike shop sits on a popular commute route and is staffed by affable mechanics who have worked the Tour de France. Hardcore bicycle people don’t have the friendliest rep, but MJ’s is different. They’ve got the skill set to equip racers, but they don’t treat commuters or parents buying bikes like tourists in their world.
Way to Become the Pickleball
PB Tennis Club
One minute you’re casually playing a game of pickleball, the next thing you know, you’ve helped design Gearbox’s newest paddle. The brand is based in San Diego and PBTC is their local court, where they play with locals to gain insights on how to improve their rackets. This sounds like free lessons to us.
Boujee Boat Picnic
Picnic Voyage
When a relative was giving away their boat, local architect Vilchis saw an opportunity to design a 10/10 Instagrammable experience. Now you can class up your day date by recreating The Notebook—a pristinely refurbished tiny boat with padded seats, plant garlands, snacks and drinks, and even parasols. Ryan Gosling not included.
Beach Volleyball Where Everyone Knows Your Name
South Mission
Each weekend on the courts of South Mission Beach, the sand is taken over by 2v2 players—many of which are ESL speakers from various countries. They’ve made this plot of sand their sacred community, where the universal language is bump, set, and spike.
Running Shop That Doubles as Bumble BFF
Milestone Run Club
On any given Wednesday on Hamilton Ave., 100 to 200 runners gather to run the streets of North Park. It’s put on by Milestone Running, a shop created by locals Greg Lemon and Chad Crawford. Go a few times and you’re pretty much guaranteed at least ten new friends—might even get “Smirnoff Iced” during the post-run raffle. You win some, you lose some.
Reward-Based Running
Waterfront Social Run Club
Even avid runners can lose motivation. This year, Waterfront introduced a new tradition: beer stops. The three- mile loop starts at Eppig Brewing in Point Loma, then heads to Fathom Bistro for a beer before completing the next 1.5 miles. Finish up with a post-run brew at Eppig, obviously.
Mission Bay Basketball Court
Madeline Yang
Sailing Lessons by Jack Sparrow Himself
Harbor Sailboats
San Diego’s maritime history runs deep. America’s Cups have a permanent home here. Harbor Sailboats—seven-time winner of the “ASA School of the Year”—offers sailing courses taught by longtime sea dogs. You know, the type of no- nonsense skippers who know how the wind will change by the way the breeze hits their beard hair.
Hikes in Real Nature
Palomar Mountain
If you want sky-high firs, oak forests that shade your path, and mountain peaks that overlook actual foliage (read: no palm tree in sight), head to Palomar Mountain State Park. And, since the inaugural California State Parks Week took place this year, there’s no better time to dust off your hiking boots on one of the six hiking trails (five for running).
An Apparently Easy Climb That’s a Lie
Mission Gorge
A mellow 5.7 climb on paper, The Tower at Mission Gorge will have you clipping the first few bolts like you’ve been dirtbagging in Yosemite all your life. You’ll have to dig deep into your courage reserves to tackle the crux, but you’ll be walking down that mountain with your head held high when the sun starts to set.
Floor Exercise
Mission Bay Basketball Court
Hoops here have always had a magical effect—a full regulation court, smack dab on the beach. The ball smells like sunscreen. No fence; out of bounds is in the sand. And it just got an artful resurfacing in honor of local basketball legend, Bill Walton—who’s been a member of the South Mission Beach Sports Park & Rec for 25 years.
Best Surf Shop Nowhere Near Water
Happy Battle Surf Co.
Yep, in City Heights. Specializing in boards from local shapers, owner Mark Polintan (who grew up on a pineapple farm in the Philippines) has created an infectious gathering place for surfers to support their peers. Like chasing tubes in exotic locations, you never know what or who you’ll find here, but you’re guaranteed to leave stoked.
Best Way to Justify Surfing All Day to Your Family
100 Wave Challenge
Surfers are selfish. No matter how many waves we catch, we always want more. And while there’s no shot we’ll ever change, we can at least direct that impulse toward a good cause. At the annual 100 Wave Challenge, participants commit to riding 100 waves in one day to raise funds for the local nonprofit Boys to Men Mentoring.
Nicolle Monico is an award-winning writer and the director of creative projects, digital editor for San Diego Magazine with more than 19 years of experience in media including Outside Run, JustLuxe and The San Francisco Chronicle.
A perfectly designed home rarely happens by accident. Those kitchens that feel effortless and rooms that seem to tell a story the second you walk in? They’re usually the work of someone who knows exactly what they’re doing.
It’s knowing which ideas will actually work, which materials will hold up over time, and how to turn a collection of choices into a space that feels intentional. That’s where a professional interior designer comes in.
For the American Society of Interior Designers (ASID) California San Diego Chapter, the goal is to help people see interior design as more than just the finished look. Behind every well-designed space is a process built on technical expertise. Designers are educated in everything from professional software and construction details to building codes, space planning, materials, and functionality.
Courtesy of ASID
“People don’t always realize how much goes on behind the scenes,” Kirsten Recce , current president of the ASID California San Diego Chapter, says. “Our designers are not just doing furniture placement and color selection and picking out new fluffy pillows. That’s not what they’re trained for.”
ASID members bring formal education, continued learning, and industry knowledge to their projects, helping create spaces that are not only beautiful, but designed to work. A paint color that changes completely depending on the lighting. A material that looks beautiful in a showroom but doesn’t make sense for everyday life. A layout that photographs well but doesn’t function for the people living there. These are the details where professional guidance can make all the difference.
Still, one of the biggest misconceptions about hiring an interior designer is that it’s reserved for massive renovations, luxury homes, or people who already know exactly what they want. The process can feel intimidating. Where do you begin? Is a designer worth the investment? What if you only need help with one room?
ASID’s answer: start with one hour.
ASID’s Spruce Up events break down one of the biggest barriers between homeowners and professional design: knowing where to begin. Held twice a year, the community program gives homeowners the chance to work directly with an ASID designer through a one-hour, $125 consultation in their own home. Whether you’re looking for advice on furniture placement, window treatments, kitchen and bath updates, remodeling ideas, vacation rentals, color selections or something else entirely, the upcoming September 2026 event offers an approachable way to get expert guidance before committing to a full project. Signups are open through Sept. 7, with consultations taking place Sept. 21 through Oct. 31. Proceeds benefit ASID San Diego’s educational and community programs. Register here!
Courtesy of ASID
“It’s a great opportunity for people who are in that exploratory phase,” Recce says. “Maybe they’re not sure they want to hire an interior designer yet, or they think it sounds daunting or expensive. This gives them a chance to discover what working with a designer is actually like.”
Design is personal. A good designer isn’t just creating a beautiful room; they’re helping create a space that fits the way someone lives.
“We’re a resource to all of San Diego County,” Recce says. “It doesn’t cost anything to pick up the phone and call and ask. We’ll answer.”
If magazines are like the adultier eldest daughters who know exactly how much anarchy they can get away with, zines are the far less predictable younger siblings going on whim and instinct. Those who draw on the walls around the house, DIY their own piercings, and experiment with different emo/straight-edge/back to emo phases (or not-phases). Boundaries and routines are what zines were created to rail against.
Walk into Verbatim Books’ zine corner, and this rebellion is immediately clear. Zines have no singular form, no clean category or definition. Vintage magazine scraps are collaged into new meaning alongside mini fandom zines. Single sheets of plain white printer paper are covered in nothing but black ballpoint pen. Repurposed hardback book covers are folded into something entirely new. Some are duct-taped together, others stapled. Some glossy, others matte. There are guides to anything and everything, comic panels, photography, hand-drawn cartoons, poetry, recipes, diaries, and ramblings that only make sense to the person who made them—and that’s on purpose.
Zines are creative magic. And with no rules, they’re incredibly accessible. Anyone can zine and have a voice, regardless of artistic training or work life experience.
You are your own Anna Wintour, Graydon Carter, Ruth Whitney.
San Diego–based zine creator Lyssette Williams specializes in mini zines—often limited to eight pages, they’re meditations in abbreviation. Outlining, thumbnailing, and revision all move quickly from idea to page. Larger projects, including Williams’ long-form graphic novel thesis, move at a slower pace. For those, she often returns to pen and ink, a choice that resists the over-editability of digital work.
Raised by a single mother and navigating mixed-race identity in a predominantly white town, she finds a home for processing it all in zines. Her work deals in identity, belonging, self-definition, and punk-rock childhood. But it isn’t always heavy; Williams creates a mini duck-themed zine called Backyard Duck Propaganda that’s hard not to love. “When I create, I think about what would have helped me find the words back then, what my younger self would’ve needed,” Williams says. “[Zines] put the tools in your hands and democratize art. They’re translations of memories and identities.”
Courtesy of Lyssette Williams
For Williams, a big reason she keeps creating is being surrounded by other creatives—a scene that extends across the border. She points to Verbatim and Comicbook Artists of San Diego, plus events like Zine Fest (October 17–18 this year at Woo in Barrio Logan) and Black Comix Day at the WorldBeat Cultural Center.
Zines have always been a road for subcultures. During the Harlem Renaissance, Black creatives like Langston Hughes and Zora Neale Hurston self-published one issue of Fire!!, which inspired other Black authors. In the 1930s, zines (then called fanzines) were hubs for sci-fi nerds to write fanfiction, address the fandom, and create new characters. Superman actually made his public debut in a fanzine called Science Fiction (he was originally cast as a villain with a fully receded hairline). A couple decades later, zines about feminism and riot grrrl became subculture de rigueur.
The internet nearly killed zines, of course. But now, people tired of the algorithm’s firehose are finding comfort and renewed inspiration in analog. Zines, a salve for digital fatigue.
Courtesy of Duophobia
A giant figure in San Diego zine culture is Burn All Books. Founded by Amanda and Nick Bernal, BAB started as a risograph (digital screen printing) studio and turned into one of those places that keeps expanding the whole scene around it, even forming its own archive group, SCANNNERS. Since opening in January 2023, it has published over 35 works and collaborated with more than 100 artists, writers, and zinesters.
For Duophobia, the pseudonym for local twin sisters Alora and Kiani Dotson (affectionately known as the “possum twins”), zines make room for experimentation and play that doesn’t fit anywhere else. Room for eclectic cartoons and dirty jokes. For sticker-covered sketchbooks.
It’s that same brand of nostalgia you might feel when, say, you walk past the carcass of an abandoned mall and see a faded cartoon mural. Their work lives somewhere between childhood and adulthood, where being unserious is taken very, very seriously.
“We’re born and raised in San Diego, and the community of artists here is a main reason we started publishing,” Kiani Dotson says. “There are people here like Trixxie Land who run open art gatherings. Show up, and you’re part of it.”
Land, a zinester herself (she made 250 single-page zines during 2020’s lockdown), is all about storytelling over hierarchy. Art shouldn’t be about gatekeeping or intimidation, she says. So she holds open-invite arts shows at Subterranean Coffee.
Courtesy of Lyssette Williams
Duophobia regularly share their work at local galleries like Subterranean, filling that lowbrow space with pieces that answer: “What would’ve made us laugh as kids?” Children are often the first to pick up their zines, unfolding them in every direction while parents briefly panic at the impulsive destruction. The twins always step in. “No, no, it’s okay,” they say, before showing how one sheet of paper folds into an entire little book. “It’s like magic.” More often than not, the kids leave with a tiny zine tucked under a tiny arm, future San Diego zinesters in the making.
When asked what a zine really is, Alora Dotson’s response was simple: “It’s anything. Literally anything. The more genuine you are, the more people are going to hear what you have to say. Your voice matters, even if it’s just a silly joke or story. People want to hear about it.”
Not a perfect definition? Exactly. Zines inherently resist categories. Want to turn a single playing card into a storybook? Do it. What about your favorite graffiti artist’s signature tag at Prince Memorial Skatepark? Turn it into a zine.
Isabella Dallas is a freelance writer for San Diego Magazine and the Arts and Culture Editor at The Daily Aztec in her final year at San Diego State University. She previously worked as an editorial intern for SDM, but when she’s not writing, you can find her trying the best coffee spots in SD, devouring the latest rom-coms, and indulging in anything and everything pop culture.
Chemotherapy and radiation have long been considered gold standards of cancer treatment, but they can cause severe side effects. A promising new approach called theranostics—a combination of “therapeutics” and “diagnostics”—could offer patients with certain types of metastatic cancers new hope. It’s a two-step process that uses a drug that binds to specific receptors on cancer cells. Advanced imaging detects this radioisotope, allowing doctors to then use a second radioisotope that binds to the cancer cells and destroys them. Click here to learn more about how specialists at Scripps Cancer Center are using theranostics.
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