Laycilates utilizes her comprehensive knowledge of classical Pilates when curating each clients’ private studio session. At its core, the Laycilates method promotes muscular endurance, balance, flexibility & mobility. By incorporating small controlled but impactful movements, her unique modern method is proven to tone, lengthen & strengthen.
LACY LOONEY
Pilates Instructor, private personal trainer, and founder of Laycilates.

Tell us about your background and journey so far.
Before I became an artist, I was actually an engineer. I studied aeronautics and astronautics at Stanford and was really interested in how organisms survive in extreme environments, and what that might tell us about the possibilities for life in other harsh conditions.
I transitioned into visual art when I realized that the things I was constantly thinking about, and the creative work I was making on the side, were being seen as art by other artists I respected, people who are now mentors and friends. What started as something I squeezed into my spare time just kept taking up more and more space in my life. Eventually, I asked myself, What would it look like to organize my life around what truly interests me? That’s when I decided to pursue a full-time studio practice. I moved back to Los Angeles, and started making art full-time.
LA is a huge part of my identity. My grandparents and great-grandmother migrated here from Birmingham, Alabama, fleeing police violence. Their commitment to building a life they could be proud of really inspires me. When they made that journey, they shared maps and lists of safe places to stay with friends who were also making the move. Once they arrived, they continued sharing resources and building community. That kind of mutual aid and care deeply informs how I think about my work.
My grandmother, for example, was the secretary at her church, sang in the choir, and brought political candidates to both our home and the church so they could share their platforms with the community. That tradition of civic engagement still happens at that church today because of her. It's had a lasting impact on how I think about integrating community into my art and into the work of making home a place I’m proud of.
What do you love most about what you do and why?
I love that I get to invite people into histories, ideas, and visions for the future that excite me. Art is such a powerful form of conversation. I get to share something I care deeply about with the public, and then we get to be in dialogue. That’s a really special part of what I do, creating work that sparks conversation and connection.
What inspires your art?
I'm really inspired by the Combahee River Collective and, in particular, their statement. To paraphrase: they believed that if we build a world where Black women are free, everyone benefits because the systems we’d need to dismantle to achieve that would improve life for everyone.
I know my own experience of being a Black woman and that’s where I start my work, from what I know intimately. If I can help create a world where I can exist freely and fully, and where other Black women can too, then we all win. That feels like a logical and meaningful starting point for the work I make.
What are some challenges you’ve faced in your career, and how did you overcome them?
A big challenge for me has been the scale of the issues I care about, topics like reproductive justice, land reparations, and pay inequity. These are massive, systemic problems. At times, I’ve felt overwhelmed, wondering, Where do I even start? What can I do as just one person? That kind of questioning has come up a lot when I begin new bodies of work.
Another challenge has been figuring out how vulnerable I want to be with my own experiences, especially around health and reproductive issues. It’s not so much a “problem,” but a real emotional process that I’ve had to work through. Choosing how much of myself to share in the work takes time and reflection.
What advice would you give to women who want to advocate for reproductive rights but aren’t sure where or how to start?
The best advice I can give, because it’s what helped me, is to start where you are. That’s what organizers told me when I had the same questions, and they were right. You don’t have to do this work alone. In fact, isolation makes it harder. Find other people who are working on the same issues. That’s how I stopped feeling like I had to fix everything by myself.
I also found that when I started sharing my own experiences, like navigating alternatives to oral birth control or dealing with fibroids, other people felt more comfortable opening up too. A lot of the things we think we’re going through alone are actually really common. Once we start those conversations, we realize we’re not alone. Shame thrives in isolation, so we can’t fight it with more isolation. We need community.
What have been some major milestones in your journey so far?
One milestone was a performance I did in 2022 called Don’t Use Me, which focused on pay inequity. I later performed it again during a residency in Jordan. The following year, I presented a new performance called Swag Surf in the Water at Frieze, along with an installation titled Leisure Lives.
That was a full-circle moment. The work was informed by earlier research I’d done around Bruce’s Beach, a Black-owned beach that was seized by the government. That earlier performance aimed to educate people about the history of Bruce’s Beach, which had been intentionally hidden.
I remember asking organizers working toward justice for the Bruce family, “What do you need?” They said, “Use your art to help tell this story.” That request led me to deeper historical research and ultimately to creating the Frieze performance, which focused on another Black beach that once existed in Santa Monica.
If I hadn’t followed that path, starting with asking what was needed, I wouldn’t have connected with the collaborators I still work with today. Sometimes we don’t fully understand the “why” behind a piece until later, but I believe artists should start with the message, with what matters, and make the work from that place. If the intention is there, the opportunities will follow.
What are you working on right now?
Right now, I’m preparing for a performance at MOCA on May 4 called Truth Be Told. I’m really excited about it. It’s part of the closing events for the American Girl exhibition currently on view, and I’m presenting the piece with the support of Repro Uncensored. There will also be a performance by Kilo Kish that same day. I feel so honored to be working alongside such incredible curators for this presentation. I think it’s going to be really special.

Meet Jennie
Hospitality Branding Expert
Regional Brand Manager, The LINE Hotel
So what does your career as a brand manager entail?
I oversee all the brand and creative for these properties: our brand partnerships, brand events, the overall aesthetic, the smell, just the overall experience when you walk into the space and how that feels. That includes activations focused mostly on community and building community, providing third spaces. We're lifestyle-focused, so a lot of our programming is built around four pillars: health and wellness, food and beverage, music and entertainment, and arts and culture.
How did you first get involved in the hospitality industry?
It’s funny. I grew up in a home that was an open door for the community. We always hosted events, whether it was a holiday, a barbecue, or any kind of celebration. My mom welcomed people from all walks of life. I didn’t realize it was preparing me for what I do now until I started this work. I began in hospitality at the Ace Hotel in New York. I'm originally from New York, and everything just started to fall into place—my passion for creativity, community, food, sustainability—all of that led me to where I am today.
And how did you come to focus on the branding aspect?
I went to school for marketing. While working at Ace, I was on the front office/operations side, but it was a lifestyle space. We had parties in the lobby, art exhibits in the gallery, a strong food and beverage program. We partnered with different chefs and hosted special dinners. I fell in love.
Then I became interested in all our brand touchpoints: marketing assets, fonts we used, the stories behind partnerships. Sitting in the lobby, I learned that people are deeply passionate about connection and third spaces. That drew me into brand and creative work, realizing you could reimagine what a hotel looks like.
In cities, hotels can feel like resorts, full of programming and activations, but they're also spaces for people to rest. The lobbies are like living rooms of the neighborhood. I’ve seen strangers connect, form friendships, start businesses, even romantic relationships. Two people met at one of our events and recently got married.
Also, at Ace, we partnered with Le Labo. We had key cards and business cards sprayed with Santal 33. That scent became a part of the memory of the place. That made me think of Abercrombie & Fitch. You could smell it before you even walked in. So, those experiential elements—smell, look, feel, story, art on the walls—they all matter.
What is your signature style and voice when it comes to branding?
It’s really about turning spaces into stories, crafting experiences that connect people, celebrate culture, and feel deeply intentional. I thrive at the intersection of creativity and community.
I bring together artists, chefs, brands, and experiences to create moments people talk about the next day and the next. I want guests to leave with that nostalgic, unforgettable feeling.
Recently, I saw a post on Instagram where someone wrote, “Who knew I'd be in town and my favorite photographer was doing a talk at The LINE?” That person had an amazing stay and also got to attend an inspiring community event. That’s what it’s all about: people feeling seen, creativity meeting community, and building something through hospitality.
Can you talk about a big challenge you’ve faced recently and how you overcame it?
One major challenge—especially working in corporate—has been proving the value of branding work when it doesn’t have a direct or easily measurable revenue impact. My work focuses on community activations and long-term brand affinity, which aren’t always trackable through traditional metrics.
For example, we might spend $5,000 on an event, draw 1,000 people, but only make $4,000 in food and beverage sales. Some might question if that’s a success, but it absolutely is. You're building new loyalty, new customer bases, long-term impact.
I’ve had to build systems to track that, like following up to see if guests who came to the event also booked rooms, or returned later.
Another challenge is operational support. We wear a lot of hats. I source partners, do pre-production, help with execution. Having more support would make a big difference.
Switching gears a bit—you have a personal brand outside of The LINE. Can you talk about that?
Yeah! I have a brand called Co-Host. It's about reimagining hospitality as a form of storytelling through curated experiences, design, and cultural and local connections. I collaborate with brands, creatives, and communities to create gatherings that celebrate diversity and elevate underrepresented voices. I’m also a chef. Food is a love language and a universal language—we all eat. I cook most of the food for Co-Host events. It’s rooted in my Caribbean heritage and serves as a way to build my personal brand and merge my culinary journey with hospitality. I also partner with other hotels to bring these experiences to their spaces.
Of all the things you’ve shared, which passion came first?
I think they came together. My passion for food and community was rooted in how I grew up. My family is full of creatives—from quilters to graphic designers—and we’d gather around food and conversation. Branding came later when I studied marketing in college.
Can you describe a distinct childhood memory where you realized you were a community builder?
I was living in Brooklyn, and I started hosting events at my home. I wasn’t cooking much yet, but I’d invite my chef friends to prepare meals. I'd create little prompt cards with a couple of discussion questions. We’d talk while the food was being made. That’s when I realized I loved bringing together people from different walks of life to have meaningful conversations.
Also, I went to camp a lot and had friends from everywhere. I naturally enjoyed connecting people. My friends still say I’m the connector. I’ll say, “You have to meet this person,” and now those people are friends. That’s how my community has grown.
Where’s your family from in the Caribbean?
My mom’s family is from Barbados, and my dad is from Costa Rica.
And you grew up in New York?
Yeah, in Westchester.
What brought you to LA?
The pandemic. I just needed a change. I call it the “Great Migration.” A lot of us from the East Coast came to LA. I didn’t have a plan. I picked a date and moved. And I’m so glad I did. LA gave me space to grow and to really listen to myself and discover my purpose.
How do you hope to empower others through your work?
I want to show people, especially people of color, that creativity has no single path. You deserve to be in spaces where you may not have seen yourself before, whether that’s leadership, luxury hospitality, or lifestyle branding.
We define culture. We define hospitality. We belong at every table. I dream of owning a ski chalet. I love snowboarding and want a space in Aspen that reflects our culture. I want you to walk in and feel the presence of the African diaspora. I also want to build a hospitality group that centers community and culture. I want people to dream big, take up space, and keep pushing.
I want you to make that ski chalet happen! We need some flavor!
Yes! I’ve gone to Black ski group events. They’re beautiful. But I want to own the space. I want our culture infused into it.