Sixties Pixie: January 2016

Harajuku Girls!

you got that wicked style

Hello readers! This post is long overdue. Like, this should've been the first blog I ever wrote. And that first blog should've been up over 12 years ago. What's all the fuss? Japan.

I can remember growing up and going to Marukai stores with my mom and gazing at all the eye candy. So many trinkets, little novelty toys, tea sets, colorful candy and snacks, delicate stationary, chop sticks, the packaging.. I still get giddy when I visit Little Tokyo in Los Angeles, or Little Japan in San Fransisco. The idea of so many things to browse through, and every time I find something new. It almost reminds me of Where's Waldo? You always notice a new character the more you keep looking. It never gets old because there are so many details. (I've been told by professionals that I have ADHD, and if that's even the case, it makes sense why I'm obsessed with this kind of culture. It keeps me on my toes.)

There are so many different takes on Japanese style. Whether it's the Harajuku/Lolita style, anime/manga, cutesy Hello Kitty, it's all so inspirational.

I remember even teaching myself to use chopsticks when I was 16 years old because I became obsessed with veggie rolls and inari. It might sound really silly, but it made me feel kind of connected to this country that I'd never visited.

Now I'm not here to prove myself to anyone, but I'd love to share how I've incorporated this inspiration in my life. When my husband and I got married, we had an "International Love" themed wedding. Well, yes and no. It was kind of all over the place. But each table was decorated as a different country, and of course I dedicated one to Japan.

a very simple rendition

I even received a beautiful blue kimono as a wedding gift from my friend.

I remember when we were deciding the theme for our first daughter's nursery, I was so undecided in the beginning. It was like, a 1960's/Rasta/Harajuku/English theme. Sounds as confusing as I was. But then my mom gifted me a diaper holder that you hang off the changing table and it completely inspired me. It was all white with red and pink flowers that reminded me of cherry blossoms.

I was hooked.

I was working more hours and saving up any extra money. We made so many trips over a period of 3 months to Little Tokyo and went to town on the cutest Japanese decor, shopped around local Japanese stores, ordered cute, authentic items online, and I was on cloud 9 when I set everything up in her room.

When I say I get bored easily, I'm telling you I can't sit through a television series, keep my furniture arranged one way for more than 3 months, and my personal appearance is constantly changing as well. But this! This whole theme of the girls' rooms has been everlasting for me. It's my happy place. After I've cleaned and organized their room, I just sit in there and look around at everything with such a full heart. I don't know if it's all the little decorations, or the bright colors, or the innocence, but it brings so much joy to me alone. The saddest day will come when Harrison and Nico want to take over and redecorate on their own terms. I don't know what I'll do with everything because I'm sure Rafael wouldn't prefer pink/white/red in our bedroom. But let's just hope that day doesn't come for many years.

Here are some photos of their room

I hung the clothes to replace the cherry blossom tree decal the girls tore down

I especially worked longer hours to afford the canvas on the right

this corner of their room is definitely my shrine of happiness

zoom out

these fabrics are actually from IKEA, but I thought they went well

the umbrella, fans, mobile, and banner are all from Little Tokyo, Los Angeles

up-close of the umbrella mobile

Harrison's bed: very colorful!!

up-close of the cutest buddies around. Including a one-eyed Totoro, thanks to having rowdy kids

When I decided Harrison's first birthday theme, it evolved from an Alice in Wonderland party, to a Gwen Stefani-style Alice in Wonderland tea party, to a strictly Japanese tea party.

The idea of sharing this love with family and friends ignited so much inspiration in me. From the Japanese food, tea selections and goody bags, to having marble swirl bread and mochi as cake and ice cream, I tried dedicating this party to the authenticity of Japanese culture. And, of course, to honor Harrison turning one.

Harrison's 1st birthday outfit

a selection of tea cups to choose from

poky sticks and hi chews to snack on, along with tempura seaweed chips

more decor

I hand-made the birthday invitations also. Another craft I love getting in to.

I have only envisioned Japan from what I've seen in movies, read in books, or heard from friends. This is my interpretation.

About 4 years ago an old coworker knew of my admiration of Japan, particularly Tokyo, and he actually bought me two travel guides. I look through them and wonder what it would be like to visit.

I've always loved cherry blossom trees, which I have seen in person in San Fransisco, but just found out they are really only in bloom for about 2 weeks out of the year. How cool and rare is that?

I hope that I'm able to visit before I die because that would bring such joyful memories for me.

Over and Out:

SixtiesPixie

Radoo: The Wonder Dog

dedicated to my old man.

Hello Readers! If anyone knows me fully, maybe they'd agree that I'm like a mixture of Gwen Stefani and my dad. Kind of a strange combination, but it makes sense in my head. I try to convince myself that I'm totally inspired by Gwen's style and lyrics, but my dad's emotional personality (both sides of the spectrum) and taste in music.

If I can be honest, he was a hard person to love. My family had an intense upbringing that I wouldn't wish on anyone, but am very fortunate to have turned out halfway decent from the experience. My siblings, mom, and I have a lighthearted point of view of it all now, but I'm sure we can agree on never wanting to relive it.

Anyway, excuse me for such a bummer of an intro, but I needed to set some kind of scene so you can understand where I'm going.

It was exactly 8 years ago tonight, January 2nd, 2008, that my life flipped around and knocked me over. I lost my dad to Hepatitis C. This had be a prolonged battle (from the 1960's) that started taking its toll about 3 years before he died.

I had never dealt with death as close to my heart as my dad. And like I said, even though it was a hard upbringing, and I was a terrible teenager on top of that, he and I still had the closest relationship. It was like an unspoken agreement that we just understood each other, and I think being the youngest in the family benefited me.

One of our last pictures taken together

When I look back on coping with the recovery, I remember at least being thankful for the timing, and if that's tacky - excuse me. But we got passed the holidays and into the new year, and though it didn't speed up my recovery, we did have one final hoorah. In fact, I can remember our last Christmas so clearly. I helped my dad get ready to go to my sister's apartment and I shaved his facial hair. He couldn't shower so I prepped him from the shoulders up. In those moments, I couldn't really bring myself to say much, but he told me, "I'm sure gonna miss you guys." He wasn't trying to be a downer, but it really broke my heart and still does.

His bones were hurting him so much he had to lay in bed on Christmas day, so when it was his turn to open gifts, we were in my sister's bedroom.

One of my dad's absolute favorite musicians of all time was Emmylou Harris, and she had just released a box set of rare songs with a booklet. I gave that to him as a gift and it was an irreplaceable moment. You know when you wanna cry because you're so happy and sad at the same time? We both felt it then (because I'm telling you, we had the same emotions).

Clean-shaven face: check!

A week later, everything we feared became reality. I'll save you the details other than we called a bunch of friends and family to visit him in the hospital. We had music playing, friends stopping by, and a lot of ice chip feedings. But around 9:25pm, my life came crashing down. From that point on I had a very long road ahead of me to accept and recover. I would get very severe panic attacks and have crazy ideas of how to get him back. I'd make deals with God, and lots of promises to have just 5 minutes with him again. There were so many things I wanted to ask, lots of silly questions, but I still wanted his answers anyway. Like, what was his favorite band that Eric Clapton was in: Cream, Yardbirds, or Derek and the Dominos? I know he would've loved these kind of questions. I remember my mom asked him if he liked surfing or motorcycles more. I just wanted to know him more than as my dad.

I'd like to think I haven't taken the people in my life for granted, but even more now since he's been gone. People learn different lessons from the same experience, and I learned to let the people I love know how I feel before it's too late. The only thing I did have peace with was that he and I knew we didn't hold any grudges.

I used to have constant dreams about him for months after he died. They were never alarming or sad, just hanging out. I would tell myself, "I'll write these dreams down and write a book about them," but never did and have forgotten most of them by now. One dream that always stuck with me was me calling him into the hallway by my room so I could show him the tattoo I got (in real life) for him. Okay, a little back story: I never had any tattoos until after he died. My very first one is on my right shoulder/collar, and it reads "Now he's gone to a place where it's legal to dream," which are Emmylou Harris lyrics off the album I gave him for Christmas. So back to the dream, I remember showing him that same tattoo and he was crying tears of joy because it was thoughtful. But I remember thinking, "If he's still alive, why would I have this tattoo?" Like I said, my dreams of him were pretty sweet.

I remember meeting a woman while I was at work who also lost her dad about a year before, and she told me, "it doesn't get better, but it gets easier." Eventually I learned to live without him by accepting it, even though I never got over it.

Last week on Christmas day my family and I watched some videos that my sister and I used to make for our brother's birthday. (Don't even ask). And there was a 2 second screenshot of my dad in the video singing Happy Birthday, holding the peace sign up. I haven't seen him or heard him in years, and it really broke my heart all over again watching that part of the video.

Even though it has eventually gotten easier over the last 8 years, if I really think back to him as a person, and his voice, and dorky jokes, and one-of-a-kind mannerisms, it's still hard sometimes.

He never became a Grandpa which I know hurt him more than anything, and now that there are four grandkids in our family - I think, man, he would've gone nuts for them.

It's weird that I have a set of favorite pictures of my dad, and that's it. I won't ever be able to take new ones with him and have to resort to 2007 as the most recent photos. A lot has changed since then and I wish I could update him on everything: my brother buying a home and setting a new standard for Teacher of the Year (you'll understand if you've heard that story), my sister and her husband having two kids and moving to Santa Maria/Santa Barbara (and back to L.A. after 7 years), my mom becoming a "Gaga" to four grandkids, and me getting married with our two kids.

I don't have much else to say other than treat those you love with kindness, and remind them often that you appreciate them. Even when people get under your skin, most of those traits will one day become endearing.

I've had these photos in an album/folder for years now and feel like they express who he was (on a good day!)