The sugar rush has officially ended in Venice Beach. VooDoo Doughnut, the beloved and wonderfully eccentric Portland-based bakery famous for its irreverent attitude and cult following, has quietly turned off its neon signs at its 66 Windward Avenue location. After barely a single year of serving up its signature treats just steps from the historic Venice Boardwalk, the colorful shop has gone entirely dark. Neighbors first noticed the closure in June when the steady stream of pink boxes suddenly vanished, a silence later confirmed by disconnected phone lines and an eerie lack of activity at the storefront. For a brand that built its empire on being loud, wild, and incredibly hard to miss, its departure from one of Los Angeles’s most famous coastal strips was surprisingly hushed.
This sudden exit marks a heartbreakingly brief chapter for a location that initially seemed like a match made in counterculture heaven. When VooDoo Doughnut first opened its doors in Venice in June 2025, it was greeted with the kind of fanfare usually reserved for rock stars. Locals, tourists, and late-night wanderers eagerly lined up for a taste of the bakery’s famous Bacon Maple Bars, jelly-filled VooDoo Dolls, and frosting-slathered creations. The shop quickly established itself as a vital sanctuary for night owls searching for a midnight sugar fix. By blending Portland’s weird, artistic spirit with the bohemian energy of Venice Beach, the location felt less like a standard corporate expansion and more like a natural community hub destined to thrive for years to come.
Despite the optimistic start, the realities of operating a business on the Westside of Los Angeles quickly caught up with the whimsical doughnut giant. Venice represented an ambitious step in VooDoo’s grander California dream, which began with a highly successful debut at Universal CityWalk Hollywood back in 2017. However, the beachside enclave proved to be a far more volatile environment than the bustling, tourist-heavy theme park. Without an official statement from VooDoo’s corporate offices—and with representatives keeping tight-lipped when pressed for details—the local community has been left to piece together the autopsy of a business that seemed to have so much promise, sparking wider conversations about what it takes to survive in today’s economic climate.
As news of the shuttering rippled across social media, neighborhood forums quickly transformed into spaces of intense debate, with residents pointing fingers at both local cultural habits and broader economic pressures. Many skeptics argued that a hyper-sugary, indulgent brand like VooDoo was always going to face an uphill battle in health-conscious Venice, where green juices and active lifestyles often take precedence over deep-fried dough. Critics noted that while tourists might indulge once or twice, local residents simply didn’t have the daily appetite to sustain such a niche luxury, especially when conventional craving-busting options like Dunkin’ or classic neighborhood bakeries were already readily available nearby.
Yet, a much louder chorus of voices asserted that the doughnut shop’s demise had very little to do with sprinkles and everything to do with skyrocketing real estate costs. On platforms like Facebook, community members lamented the soaring retail rents that continue to choke out both independent shops and national chains along the coast. Some users expressed deep frustration over corporate landlord greed and rising vacancy rates across the Westside, arguing that exorbitant lease prices are slowly draining the unique character out of coastal neighborhoods. In these discussions, the empty storefront at 66 Windward Avenue became a symbol of a larger, systemic crisis, illustrating how difficult it is for any business—no matter how popular or well-funded—to stay afloat under the weight of Southern California’s commercial rent pressures.
While VooDoo Doughnut continues to satisfy sweet tooths across Portland and several other major cities nationwide, the Venice Beach experiment will likely go down as a bittersweet cautionary tale. The sudden closure leaves a glaring, empty storefront on Windward Avenue and a distinct lack of late-night dessert options for the boardwalk crowd. As the dust settles, loyal fans can still find their favorite voodoo doll-shaped treats at Universal CityWalk, but the dream of grab-and-go pink boxes by the beach has officially melted away. It is a stark reminder of the fragile nature of modern retail, where even the most beloved cult icons must eventually bow to the unforgiving realities of high-stakes real estate.
