Dear WeHo: New Year, Old Problem – What Do You Call People From West Hollywood?

We-Who? A Plea to Officially Name the People of West Hollywood

Every great civilization eventually hits an existential wall. First, you figure out fire. Then, you discover agriculture. Finally, you must look in the mirror and ask: What do we actually call ourselves?

For the residents of West Hollywood, this question is currently being answered with a blank stare.

Los Angeles has Angelenos. New York has New Yorkers. San Franciscans know exactly who they are, although sometimes a little too well. But West Hollywood? This is a city with a population density rivaling Manhattan; a nightlife schedule that ignores circadian rhythms; and a municipal identity forged from equal parts activism, art, and immaculate cheekbones. With all of this, our population remains functionally nameless. We are linguistically unmoored and civically naked.

What we’re really missing is our demonym. That’s the technical term for “what you call people from a place.” It sounds like a monster from Stranger Things, but it’s simply proper English. Please just deal with it, ok?

The Current State of Affairs (Chaos)

Ask ten residents what people from West Hollywood are called and you’ll get twelve answers, most delivered with a shrug. “West Hollywood residents” is accurate but joyless. “People who live in WeHo” is descriptive but boring. “Angelenos” is technically correct but spiritually evasive, like saying you’re “from Earth” when asked what city you live in. Then there are the hopeful improvisations…

“WeHoites” has energy. It suggests flair, nightlife, and a certain willingness to brunch aggressively. It also sounds like a mineral supplement or a minor intestinal condition. “Sorry. I can’t come out tonight. I’m flaring up with acute WeHoitis.”

“West Hollywoodians” is grammatically respectable but physically exhausting. No one wants to say that more than twice in a conversation, and no one wants to hear it said more than once.

“West Hollywooders” is serviceable, sturdy, and utterly devoid of personality—like a city‑issued folding chair.

Then there’s “WeHo‑villians.” This one has drama. Perhaps too much drama. It suggests capes, monologues, and a coordinated plot to enforce a citywide aesthetic standard involving candles, fonts, and very strong opinions about which shade of white is emotionally acceptable. Say this out loud and you risk being misheard as villains, violins, or violence, none of which are helpful when you’re just trying to explain where you live

In short, none of these feels right. And a city that has codified rainbow crosswalks into law deserves better than “close enough.”

Why This Matters (More Than It Probably Should)

Names do important work. A demonym (yes, that word we asked you to please just deal with earlier) isn’t just a linguistic convenience; it’s a flag you wave when explaining yourself to rideshare drivers, relatives from Ohio, and people on dating apps who ask where you live “No, but, like where exactly?”

Without a proper name, West Hollywood residents are forced into clunky explanations. “I live in West Hollywood—not Hollywood Hollywood, but the city, yes it’s its own city, no it’s not part of LA City, yes the parking rules are different.” By the time you finish, the moment has passed and the bartender has moved on.

A demonym would solve this. It would say: We exist. We are specific. We pay municipal taxes.

A Call to Action (Naturally)

This is not a problem that can be left to chance. It requires intention, process, and probably a subcommittee with a substantial snack budget.

I propose a citywide effort: listening sessions, town halls, sharply worded comment cards. Suggestions could be submitted online, debated vigorously, and eliminated ruthlessly. There should be at least one petition, several cut-short City Council public comment rants, and one viral argument on social media over whether the plural should end in “‑ites” or “‑ans.”

Eventually, a winner would emerge—not perfect, but beloved through repetition and mild Stockholm syndrome.

And once chosen, it should be used everywhere. City newsletters. Pride banners. Parking tickets. “Welcome, ___” emblazoned boldly at city limits, if only to confuse tourists.

The Point (In the End)

West Hollywood has always been a place that names itself deliberately: streets, spaces, movements. It understands the power of language. To remain officially unnamed is an oversight bordering on negligence.

So let us fix this. Let us claim a word. Let us argue about it loudly and lovingly, and let us finally answer, with confidence and perhaps a hint of smugness, the simple question: What do you call people from West Hollywood?

Whatever the answer turns out to be, at least we’ll have one, and that alone will be very on brand. 

-Dr. Steve Vincena 

West Hollywood-ian? 😉