LA’s Museum of Broken Relationships reflects on life, love and the human experience
The Hollywood exhibition is a surprisingly upbeat way to drown in sorrows
Need I ask what this is? The clue is rather in the name, isn’t it! This is a museum dedicated to something almost everyone can relate to. And it doesn’t just stick to the personal. It is an ode to the end of all sorts of things: jobs, friendships, homes, ways of life. It opened in the heart of Hollywood in early June, a replica of sorts of the original in Zagreb, Croatia, which opened in 2010 and has travelled the world via pop-up gallery shows.
Broken relationships, though. Sounds depressing. Surprisingly not. A stroll around the exhibits iscaptivating. And it feels appropriate that the modern, light-filled, split-level 3,500-sq-ft space used to be home to the saucy Fredericks of Hollywood lingerie store.

How do you showcase the end of a relationship? In lots of ways. There are 103 exhibits, chosen from about 2,000 in a collection owned by both museums and sent in by people from all over the world. Each piece is accompanied by a written note from its donor explaining its provenance. There’s a boot-shaped beer mug from a man baffled as to why his girlfriend had given it to him, and a framed mirror from a woman whose Hollywood aspirations amounted to nothing while her beau became a successful screenwriter. A stuffed Peter Pan doll came from a man who felt he’d outgrown it. And, heartbreakingly, a lottery ticket donated by a Spanish man in his 60s who’d discovered his best friends had been buying tickets together, behind his back, for four decades. Everything is displayed anonymously, though.
So, the FULL scope of human emotion under one roof? More or less. The curators look for anything that speaks of the human experience – relationships that are sad, short or long ago, signifying closure, or not. Interestingly, the exhibits are not about the big sweeping gesture, unless you count the wedding dress in a pickle jar sent in by a jilted wife. (Explaining the unusual container, she writes: “Mostly for space reasons but any sort of appropriate pickle metaphors can be invoked.”)