Category Archives: Amazing Women

Women I have met who are an inspiration

Transitions and Transformations: Pilar Zuniga of Gorgeous and Green

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your slightest look easily will unclose me
though I have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully,mysteriously)her first rose
– e.e. cummings, American poet, from “somewhere I have never travelled,gladly beyond”

Pilar setting up floral arrangements for a wedding. (Photo credit: JRotsenphotography.com)

Pilar setting up floral arrangements for a wedding. (Photo credit: JRotsenphotography.com)

I first discovered Gorgeous and Green (2946 College Avenue, Berkeley, CA 94705, 510.665.7974) after receiving a beautiful set of reclaimed vintage earrings for my 50th birthday last year. The earrings came in a box with the letters “GG” stamped on the lid. The letters were Art Deco in style – the first G backwards, as if mirroring the other G – and on either side was a flourish of Art Deco-style flowers and greenery. Curious, I asked my friend who gave me the present where she got the earrings. She explained that she was on San Pablo Avenue in West Berkeley and came upon a floral shop that sold unique jewelry. Intrigued, I made a little discovery trip, and I’ve been back to Gorgeous and Green many times since.

A colorful storefront display greets visitors to Gorgeous and Green.

A colorful storefront display greets visitors to Gorgeous and Green.

The warm and inviting entrance to Gorgeous and Green.

The warm and inviting entrance to Gorgeous and Green.

Step inside: A Mix of gorgeous and green goods
The majority of Gorgeous and Green customers are neighbors who live in West Berkeley, although commuters who work in the area also come in during the week. On weekends, the shop is filled with visitors to the East Bay. It’s not uncommon for people to walk in and be unsure of what the shop is selling, admits owner Pilar Zuniga. Her concept is a mix of goods that she and other artisans have created that embody her distinct style – encompassing color, attention to design, vintage feel, sustainability, and the ability to be marketed and displayed in a beautiful and creative way. The gifts in her shop are either one of kind or “embodies the intention of the artist,” she said.

A rustic display of greeting cards from local small presses.

A rustic display of greeting cards from local small presses.

Thus, greetings cards displayed on a white-washed picket-fence gate hung on the wall are made by local, small-scale printing presses. Colorful glassware reclaimed from thrift stores and antique and garage sales dot the shelves throughout the shop. Hand-blown glass by local artisans is re-envisioned as planters for succulents and other plants. Body and bath products are made with natural ingredients and produced in an environmentally friendly manner. Zuniga stocks her shop with goods crafted by artisans whom she researches and finds on the Internet. “I’ve gotten a lot of positive feedback,” she said, of her selections. She continues to stock what sells well, but tries to bring in new items.

Reclaimed vintage jewelry dangle from a suspended branch.

Reclaimed vintage jewelry dangle from a suspended branch.

She designs and sells her jewelry, which comprise vintage pieces that she incorporates into a new design. “I like to redo jewelry to make it better or to make it into something someone would enjoy,” she explained. “I’ve always been interested in art – painting, drawing, other craftwork, sewing, making jewelry – I got really into reusing reclaimed vintage. That was always a side thing,” she said. Zuniga showcases creations by other jewelry designers as well, most of which are fashioned from reclaimed materials. Gorgeous and Green carries M.E. Moore‘s jewelry, which I discovered in Zuniga’s shop.

Artwork on the wall seems to spill out of this beautiful arrangement.

Artwork on the wall seems to spill out of this beautiful arrangement.

Roots in sustainability
Sustainability is an important aspect, and Zuniga has ensured that it is expressed in her shop. The San Diego native developed her environmental consciousness when she was a student at UC Berkeley, which opened her up to thinking about the greater good of the world. Not surprisingly, she found her way into the nonprofit sector of public health as a career and remained in northern California because of the area’s “down-to-earth sensibility” and the fact that “everybody is really close.”

When Zuniga was planning her wedding in 2005, she had difficulty finding a sustainable florist, though today there are more environmentally conscious florists. She saw a need to fill and was energized by the concept. Though she enjoyed working with people and in the nonprofit sector, she was losing interest as she moved into management and got behind a desk. Zuniga started her company in 2007 with a focus on floral design and events while still working full-time. She took classes but didn’t go to school for floral design, though she also learned about the industry through her aunt, who was a florist. When she was younger, she helped her aunt with weddings. Zuniga was able to rely on various skills she had learned in her job – designing and evaluating marketing materials. She transformed her garage into her workspace and created gift items specifically for weddings, and her business took off in 2008.

Vintage suitcases hold unique gifts and treasures.

Vintage suitcases hold unique gifts and treasures.

Challenging times
“I really enjoyed the design and artistic piece of it, so I quit my job and opened up a shop,” she said. Zuniga had been eyeing her current storefront and convinced the landlord to rent the space to her in January 2010. Within three weeks, she had opened the first week of February, just in time to take advantage of Valentine’s Day. (In an anniversary of sorts and a repeat of history, Gorgeous and Green moved to its new location, 2946 College Avenue, near Ashby Avenue in Berkeley, this past February from its San Pablo Avenue location.)

Succulent terrariums featuring locally hand-blown glass.

Succulent terrariums featuring locally hand-blown glass.

At the onset, Zuniga faced significant financial challenges, which were exacerbated by the recession. She and her husband – who had started his business years before – had saved money, but in the beginning there were months when she made very little money or none at all. Zuniga logged 60 to 80 hours a week, seven days a week. Despite the grueling schedule and unstable earnings, by the end of the first year, when her lease was to be reviewed, she decided to try another two years. The holidays had buoyed her, and she added, with a laugh, “It could only get better from where it started.” That said, Zuniga burnt herself out the second year with her workload and made the strategic decision to hire people to help in the shop. Though staffing is one of the biggest line items in her budget, she believes the benefits outweighed the cost. Despite being “shackled” to the shop, she says the best thing about being a shop owner is flexibility. “I’m a hard worker, but I don’t have to keep going 110 percent all the time,” she said. She allows herself time to power down or take a break.

Wall-mounted terrariums and planters share a cozy corner of the shop with dried pressed flower earrings.

Wall-mounted terrariums and planters share a cozy corner of the shop with dried pressed flower earrings.

She has since pulled back doing events because of the time and effort involved and competition with larger events companies, and is investing more time showcasing her shop, which she feels needs her support to keep it going. This year she plans on cutting back on the number of events she produces in order to enjoy the few that she plans to take on. The wedding events that were the most memorable for her were the ones in which she was granted creative license. She has done a number of weddings at the Piedmont Community Center, but one in particular enabled her to use brilliant colors and planted materials such as succulents and ferns. “I really enjoyed having the space to do what I wanted to do,” she said. She also did a wedding in Moss Beach, which enabled her to enjoy the drive down the coast and then transform a garden into a vibrant place with washed-up wood that the bride had collected on the beach and had Zuniga incorporate into the floral arrangements.

The shelves are stocked with glassware, jewelry, natural bath and body products, and more goodies.

The shelves are stocked with glassware, jewelry, natural bath and body products, and more goodies.

Taking risks and “throwing up some dust and some dirt”
Zuniga touts the support of her husband as being very significant in her decision to start her own business. When she and her husband first got together, she was the breadwinner while he was trying to get his business going. When his San Francisco-based video production company, Corduroy Media, finally turned and grew, the strain of being the breadwinner eased. “We both have our own businesses now, but I don’t think I would have done it without his business doing well,” she said. When her husband’s business was going strong after its first decade, Zuniga felt it was now her turn.

Gorgeous and Green's San Pablo location before the shop moved to College Avenue.

Gorgeous and Green’s San Pablo location before the shop moved to College Avenue.

She never questioned her decision to open her shop, buoyed with the philosophy that things would take care of themselves. She didn’t worry about being saddled with debt should the business venture not work out. “I’ve been there before and I’ve paid it [debt] off. You just move on and you learn from it,” she said, simply. “It’s just money. But it’s also a chance to be happy and to enjoy what you do and give yourself a chance. You’ll regret it if you don’t [try]. You’ll always regret it.”

If she hadn’t made the change, Zuniga emphasized that she would have missed out on the entire experience – the difficulties and challenges, the enjoyable times, and especially the fact that she overcame so much to get to where she is now. “I continue to do so [overcome adversities], and I surprise myself,” she added. “You just have to put yourself out there.”

Turning serious for a moment, Zuniga noted that society teaches women to eschew being a risk taker. “Part of it is genetic, part of it is maintaining your uterus as a safe space because you want to have children at some point or you might not,” she said, with a laugh. “Evolutionarily, it works that way.” But Zuniga has grown comfortable with embracing risk. “It’s okay to take a risk and not be sure and make big mistakes,” she said. It may not work out, but she says, “At least I jumped on it. I threw up some dust and some dirt, and it will eventually settle.”

Spend a lazy Saturday afternoon checking out boutiques in West Berkeley in a comfy chemise and platform boots made for walking.

Spend a lazy Saturday afternoon checking out boutiques in West Berkeley in a comfy chemise and platform boots made for walking.

A Gorgeous and Green find - a rose necklace made from corn! (Earrings by Carmela Rose and ring from Lava 9, Berkeley, CA)

A Gorgeous and Green find – a rose necklace made from corn! (Earrings by Carmela Rose and ring from Lava 9, Berkeley, CA)

Close-up of the rose necklace made from corn from Gorgeous and Green.

Close-up of the rose necklace made from corn from Gorgeous and Green.

 

Discovering the Contemporary Jewish Museum

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I wanted to convey the joy of being a little boy alive on a certain kind of day.
– Ezra Jack Keating, American author and illustrator

We had planned to celebrate my daughter’s belated 10th birthday “party” this past Saturday with a requested family horseback riding excursion. Due to safety issues over the muddy trails, however, we had to come up with alternative. My daughter, who was inviting a good friend of hers to join us, decided on the Yerba Buena Park and the carousel in San Francisco. David suggested that we include going to the Contemporary Jewish Museum (736 Mission Street, San Francisco, CA 94103, 415.655.7800), since it’s located across the street from the Yerba Buena Center. My daughter was less enthused than my son. She announced in a much-too-early preteen tone of voice that she was “done” with museums – which is surprising coming from someone who loved museums and always brought a sketchbook to draw and take notes. We promptly added the Contemporary Jewish Museum to our itinerary.

The architecture of the Contemporary Jewish Museum is stunning (seen from the western end of the building).

The architecture of the Contemporary Jewish Museum is stunning (seen from the western end of the building).

The Contemporary Jewish Museum is a beautiful piece of architecture. There are only five exhibits in the spacious museum, but it’s the right number of exhibits and square footage to soak in the art and not get overwhelmed.

The Snowy Day
One of the current exhibits is “The Snowy Day and the Art of Ezra Jack Keats” (ongoing through February 24th), which we thought the kids would enjoy. Who doesn’t have a copy of the classic urban story about a young African American boy delighting in the beauty and wonder of snow? I read it as a child and read it to my kids when they were young. “I wanted to convey the joy of being a little boy alive on a certain kind of day,” Keats had written of the genesis of the book, which won the Caldecott Medal in 1963. We were treated to original sketches, storyboards, and final illustrations of his many books, which allowed us to see the individual materials that made up his collages, the printed paper he cut out, the thickness of his paint strokes, and the different techniques he employed, including dipping paper into a mix of paint and other liquids to produce a marbled effect.

Breaking up an all-denim foundation with earthy colors - a textured moto jacket and beloved Frye boots, and embellished with hoop earrings from Lava 9 (Berkeley, CA).

Breaking up an all-denim foundation with earthy colors – a textured moto jacket and beloved Frye boots, and embellished with hoop earrings from Lava 9 (Berkeley, CA).

Of The Snowy Day, and also his other written works, he wrote that he was more concerned with “capturing a mood” than in developing the plot of his stories. Given that he admired haikus, you can see the influence. Especially in The Snowy Day, readers understand Peter’s deepest feelings and his world beyond the snow in the spare but evocative words Keats chose to give us.

Displays of letters provide us with a snapshot of the era. The Snowy Day was published in 1962, during the Civil Rights Movement. Many people thought Keats was African-American, and he noted that African-Americans especially were disappointed that he was not. Keats responded to a racist review of his book, which was displayed along with letters of support. Most poignant is a series of letters between Keats and a Japanese mother whom he had met during a book trip to Japan and whose son cherished an autographed copy of one of his books. She wrote to let him know how much her son loved that book – it was his most prized possession and he showed it proudly to all his friends and acquaintances. Keats’s most recently published book was the last book her son read before he was fatally injured in a traffic accident the following day. Keats’ letter to her was achingly heartfelt. He never wrote the book that was to memorialize her son, but his letters paid tribute and the exhibit includes a black-and-white photograph of him offering his respects at the boy’s grave.

Styling an outfit around a necklace by Israeli jewelry designer Ayala Bar.

Styling an outfit around a necklace by Israeli jewelry designer Ayala Bar.

I had no idea that Keats was such a prolific writer and illustrator, with more than 80 books to his credit, and author of 22 of those books. I found his Good is in the Mountain, which was published in 1966 and comprises excerpts of texts from different religions, spiritually nourishing. I have a new and deep appreciation for Keats’ artistry and life – born as Jacob Ezra Keats to poor Eastern European Jewish immigrants in Brooklyn in 1916. Bay Area locals should see this exhibit and his wonderful paintings and illustrations before it closes on February 24th. One hopes this exhibit travels to other cities. Keats and his work deserve a wider audience.

The Radical Camera and Black Sabbath exhibits
The other exhibits appealed to both David and me and the kids, which is a rarity to find a museum that appeals to all family members across all exhibits. “The Black Sabbath: The Secret Musical History of Black-Jewish Relations is in a big open room – conducive to dancing, in which my daughter and her friend indulged – with an antique piano and four tables equipped with iPads and headphones. You had a choice of listening to three African-American musical genres from the 1930s to the 1960s, which were influenced by Jewish music, life, and culture. In the playlist “Heebie Jeebies,” for example, you can catch the integration of Yiddish and Black jive during the swing era by such artists as Cab Calloway.

Keeping it simple to showcase Ayala Bar's necklace - J. Crew hot pink velveteen blouse, Club Monaco gold pleated mini and sparkly clutch, Elizabeth and James platforms in a neutral color, Carmela Rose earrings, Sundance bracelet, and rings by Lava 9 (Berkeley, CA) and BCBG Max Azria.

Keeping it simple to showcase Ayala Bar’s necklace – J. Crew hot pink velveteen blouse, Club Monaco gold pleated mini and sparkly clutch, Elizabeth and James platforms in a neutral color, Carmela Rose earrings, Sundance bracelet, and rings by Lava 9 (Berkeley, CA) and BCBG Max Azria.

David, who shares an appreciation of black-and-white photography with me, loved “The Radical Camera: New York’s Photo League, 1936-1951.” The exhibit comprises the work of more than 50 Photo League members, who embraced an aesthetic that honored realism and the documentary, and married social activism and art. The photographs capture the harshness of the Depression, World War II, Jim Crow, and the Red Scare periods of our history. This exhibit celebrates historical documentation through the beauty of black-and-white photography.

StoryCorps
Finally, I’m glad we ventured down one short wing of the museum on the first floor. At the end of a well-curated exhibit by contemporary Jewish architect Stanley Saitowitz is the StoryCorps StoryBooth. Amazingly and lucky for us locals, the Contemporary Jewish Museum is the first museum to host one of its recording booths. If you have listened to some of the recordings on National Public Radio (NPR), you are familiar with the largest oral history project in the country, capturing ordinary people’s lives and histories in their own words. A TV monitor played a loop of recordings that were translated into animated shorts. David and I wanted to keep watching, too, after shedding a few tears over some of the stories – particularly the one of the older couple from Brooklyn whose love remained strong throughout their many decades of marriage, even after his untimely death by cancer; the letters he wrote to her every day of their time together was replaced with the thousands of letters she received from NPR listeners when they heard about his passing, which she reads one a day. But we had to pull the kids away in order to see the rest of the museum. I brought home a postcard with information to reserve an interview time. Hopefully, the booth will still be there in the summer when my sister visits from San Antonio and we can record and preserve our parents’ immigrant lives.

We will certainly return to the Contemporary Jewish Museum. For locals, if you’ve never been, I highly recommend it. If you’re planning a visit to San Francisco, this should be on your list of destinations.

Ayala Bar's three-in-one necklace comprising glass beads, Swarovski crystals, mineral stones, fabric, and metal. It has a boho feel to it.

Ayala Bar’s three-in-one necklace comprising glass beads, Swarovski crystals, mineral stones, fabric, and metal. It has a boho feel to it.

Engaging with grace

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Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It’s the transition that’s troublesome.
– Isaac Asimov, American science fiction writer and biochemistry professor

Mixing black and gray for the holidays, 2011.

Mixing black and gray for the holidays, 2011.

My mother’s passing still haunts me one year later. It is what I had expected. But last week, a number of events have kept me thinking about the other side. A good friend let me know that her elderly mother had been very sick and in the hospital for three days. She is thankfully recovering now in her assisted living facility. Another good friend texted me that a mutual friend, whom I hadn’t seen in a few years, was in the ICU, having suffered congestive heart failure and a stroke. And last Wednesday, as I was running an errand, I saw the result of an accident that must have happened mere minutes before I turned on the corner – a covered body on the street, an inconsolable woman standing on the sidewalk, and police cars redirecting traffic. The wail of a fire truck siren followed soon afterwards.

These events made me think about how things can twist and turn in a blink and take you down a different, sometimes dark, path – thoughts that seem to be especially prevalent as the years march on. Can we really ever be prepared for such tragedies?

Anatomy of black and gray: one o my favorite faux fur jackets, suede booties, and statement necklace from Anthropologie.

Anatomy of black and gray: one o my favorite faux fur jackets, suede booties, and statement necklace from Anthropologie.

In the fall of 2008, I attended the Health 2.0 conference in San Francisco as a reporter for my work. I wanted to cut out before the end of the first day of the conference, but something compelled me to stay for the last presentation. Alexandra Drane, founder and president of Eliza, began talking about her sister-in-law, who at the age of 32 was diagnosed with stage IV glioblastoma. I won’t tell you the rest of the story. You can read it and watch it here. Alexandra shared this poignant story amid many tears in the audience – both men and women, including the young mother who was sitting at my table. Alexandra helped found a viral movement, a nonprofit organization called Engage with Grace, which entreats us as family members and friends, with great humanity and love, to discuss end-of-life care. She asked that we answer the five questions brought up on the website, download the slide and share the story, and “get the conversation started.”

I was incredibly fortunate two years later to actually interview Alexandra at the same conference. I excitedly told her how moved I was by her presentation. Then I told her about my father’s passing, and how he died in his hospital room while we were on our way. I had always regretted – and I know my mother did, too – that he was alone. I told her that after his death, my sisters and I tried to talk to her about planning for her own passing, but she would hear none of it. It was bad luck to talk of such things. So that was the end of it. I then told her that after hearing her presentation, I brought it up to my mother the next time I visited her. (Little did I know that four years earlier, in 2004, she had written out her wishes for end-of-life determination. To this day, I don’t know what triggered her to decide what to do and to write it down, but I am grateful that she did.) Again, I was met with a rebuke for talking about such matters out in the open. That was the end of the discussion.

A very cold Northern California winter, January 2013.

A very cold Northern California winter, January 2013.

I also told Alexandra that after the conference, when I returned home that evening, I sat down and wrote about the presentation and the movement and send out a group e-mail to all my women friends. David and I filled out our advanced healthcare directive and dutifully sent it out to family members and our physicians. We and our family know what we want to do should we find ourselves in that difficult position.

But whereas advanced healthcare directive maps out what you do or don’t want to have done to you, there is no place on the form that asks you where you want to be when your life is coming to an end. It should. I recognize, however, that even if it did, their wishes may not be fulfilled.

My mother wanted to go home. She couldn’t really talk, but she mouthed it. It was plain to hear through the garble. It was obvious in the shape of her chapped lips. At first, my sisters and I thought she meant she wanted to go home to recover, not recover in the hospital. My sister, whom she lived with, brightly told her she needed to regain her strength before she could come home and, as an incentive, kept encouraging her to do her physical therapy, which my mother refused to do when the therapist came to her room. (My mother would look away, disinterested, and play opossum, but the moment a Filipino caregiver came into her room, she smiled, nodded her head, and weakly waved.) As my mother encountered setback after setback, I realized that she wanted to go home to die. She was done fighting, she was tired, she had told us as much with her eyes and her distorted speech, and she had nodded when we asked her, though we were not ready to let go.

When I was alone with her, on my watch, she told me again she wanted to go home, as if I was her only hope. I awkwardly asked my sister to grant her wish. My sister gave various reasons why it was not a good idea to bring her home. And then remembering Engage with Grace, I asked both of my sisters to watch the video and to consider the message. My sister finally responded. She respected the message, but she could not bring herself to do it. I was sad, but I totally understood where she was coming from. It was her home. It was her decision, not mine.

In the end, it was she whose stoicism failed her the night we let our mother go, not I – the “crybaby” of the family when we were growing up. It was she whose voice broke when we each eulogized our mother at her memorial service. And it was she who has to wake up every morning and go to bed at night in the house in which my mother would no longer walk in and out – her bedroom door, closed and white, which my sister would have to face coming in from the garage, like a canker sore on the heart.

If only we had discussed the matter when we weren’t in such a difficult situation. Maybe the outcome would not have changed at all. I don’t know. And in not knowing, and while still haunted, I can only spread the word. Engage with grace. There is great comfort in knowing what your loved one wishes and that there is time to prepare to honor their wishes.

Engage with grace. Amen.

Keeping the winter chill away with faux fur jacket and scarf (Restoration Hardware) and leather (Frye booties) and warm gold (necklace and bracelet by M.E. Moore and Monserat De Lucca crossbody bag).

Keeping the winter chill away with faux fur jacket and scarf (Restoration Hardware) and leather (Frye booties) and warm gold (necklace and bracelet by M.E. Moore and Monserat De Lucca crossbody bag).

Pilgrimage to Good Goods

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Our admiration of the antique is not admiration of the old, but of the natural.
– Ralph Waldo Emerson, American essayist, lecturer, and poet

Good Goods' 4,000-square-foot barn is filled with antique furniture and vintage and new finds.

Good Goods’ 4,000-square-foot barn is filled with antique furniture and vintage and new finds.

My cousin Janet introduced me to Good Goods (30924 Road 168, Farmersville, CA, 559.594.5765 or 559.280.2498), an antique store comprising a 4,000-square-foot barn, two-story Victorian house, tank house and bunk house spread across two acres outside of Visalia, CA, about eight years ago. Ever since then, whenever my family visits my hometown of Terra Bella and stays with my cousin and her husband Tim, Janet and I make a trip out to Good Goods. We always find unique treasures there.

The two-story Victorian house's kitchen boasts a checkerboard tile floor and this beautifully restored country store dry goods bin sideboard.

The two-story Victorian house’s kitchen boasts a checkerboard tile floor and this beautifully restored country store dry goods bin sideboard.

Romantic Homes (November 2006 issue) published a wonderful feature on Good Goods, so I won’t repeat Sandy and Jim Hall’s enchanted beginnings and their love of antique Americana and re-envisioned vintage furniture (but do read the article). I will mention, however, that they relocated the buildings, some of which were slated to be destroyed, and lovingly restored them on their property. That’s quite a labor of love.

To say Good Goods is off the proverbial beaten path is no exaggeration, which is why I included a map at the end of this entry. If you drive past two huge stone gates set hundreds of feet apart, you’ve missed the store’s only marker, though you can see the buildings on the property. In other words, there is no sign. And there is no website. Jim let me know that they don’t have a computer, either.

It's still Christmas at Good Goods, but Valentine's Day decorations will be up in no time.

It’s still Christmas at Good Goods, but Valentine’s Day decorations will be up in no time.

All this makes perfect sense. When you step into one of the buildings, you’re in another world and time period that compels you to want to settle in and take your time to admire the many details of the buildings themselves – the punched tin ceilings, beautifully painted hardwood floors sporting patterns of checkerboard and playful spots made with sponges, and creamy tin and lace-embellished window treatments.

Through the years, we have purchased an 1880s walnut dresser with a marble top and matching mirror, a vintage-inspired mannequin and numerous knickknacks, including a 1950s set of coasters and vintage-inspired fruit and vegetable signs hooks. A number of years ago, the Halls made innovative use of the thick planks of wood from a shuttered bowling alley and put them atop industrial bases such as school lockers and commercial-grade bins to make distinctive, beautiful tables. My cousin has one in her kitchen, and it’s the center of activity. Someday, somehow, I’m going to snag one of the remaining tables – when I can find a place in our house to put it.

One of the unique woodblock tables gracing the old barn. Note the hand-painted floors.

One of the unique woodblock tables gracing the old barn. Note the hand-painted floors.

Sandy, who was on the lawn mower when we visited this past weekend, energetically told us that when the weather turns warm in the spring, she and Jim will be able to refinish furniture currently under seven tents. I have another reason (besides baseball) to look forward to the spring. I hope you do, too.

There are a number of local antique shops in the area, especially in the wonderful farming town of Exeter, that together make for a worthy trip to the Central Valley. One of our favorite places to eat is the Wildflower Café (121 South E. Street, Exeter, 559.592.2656), which serves breakfast, brunch, and sandwich specialties. Be advised to bring a van or truck for the antique and vintage treasures you will find. Definitely bring your vintage-loving friends and make a great weekend of antiquing. There is plenty to see in this part of the state.

You can also correspond with Sandy and Jim at P.O. Box 3607, Visalia, CA 93278. And tell them I sent you down the path to Good Goods.

How to get to Good Goods.

How to get to Good Goods.

Wear comfortable clothes - stretchy leggings, soft jersey blouse, and downy faux fur vest - when going antique shopping.

Wear comfortable clothes – stretchy leggings, soft jersey blouse, and downy faux fur vest – when going antique shopping.

 

A Tribute to my mother, one year later

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Sweater, n.: garment worn by child when its mother is feeling chilly.
– Ambrose Bierce, American journalist, from The Devil’s Dictionary

My mother in the Philippines, circa 1950s.

My mother in the Philippines, circa 1950s.

At the age of 85, surrounded by her three daughters, my mother took her last breath in the early morning of January 3rd, 2012. We are journeying to our hometown this weekend to celebrate her one-year anniversary with our relatives.When I think of my mother’s life, I think about the decisions she made and the decisions made for her through the years. After World War II, as a teacher in a mountain province, she fell in love with a Filipino soldier who was enlisted in the U.S. Army. He wanted to marry her, but her strict parents demanded that she choose between them or him. She chose her parents because, she explained, they loved her and she loved them. It was as simple as that, she told me when I was home from college on winter break, in a years-removed, matter-of-fact tone of voice. My mother, the oldest daughter, in a family of seven siblings (two others had died during the war as a result of malnutrition), continued to help support her younger brothers and sisters through school.

My parents' wedding in the Philippines, May 11, 1957.

My parents’ wedding in the Philippines, May 11, 1957.

By the time my father’s cousin – a co-teacher of my mother’s at the school where they both taught – matchmade my parents, she was nearly 32 years old. The local priest had to convince my grandfather, my lolo, who was a layman at his church, to let his daughter go. My father, who was 19 years older than my mother, had been in the States with his cousins since the 1920s. After a short courtship, which my mother described as an exchange of photos and letters, they got married in the Philippines and he returned to Los Angeles. She followed him months later on a ship. My parents lived in a house that my father and his brother bought in Los Angeles. My mother not only took care of her three daughters, born within four years, but also kept house for my father and her brother-in-law and his wife, who all three worked outside of the home. My mother did not want to raise us in an urban environment, especially during the time of civil unrest in Los Angeles, and longed for a home of her own. Some of my father’s relatives had settled in Terra Bella, which my father likened to a camp (New York was the city, Los Angeles was the country, my father reportedly told his cousins). Nevertheless, in 1965, we moved to the small Central Valley town, two-and-a-half hours away, and my parents bought a gray-brick house for $7,000, paying it in full. By 1968, my mother had a ranch-style house built next door on our lot, and paid that house off within five years.

A family outing in Long Beach, CA, summer 1962.

A family outing in Long Beach, CA, summer 1962.

My mother didn’t work while in Los Angeles. In Terra Bella, however, she eschewed becoming a teacher, unlike a couple of Filipino townmates who did go back to school and secured teaching positions at our local elementary school. My mother felt that she couldn’t take the time off to get her credentials. She needed to work right away. And so she spent three seasons at the packing house, which required her to be on her feet for 12 hours a day, sizing or packing oranges and other citrus fruit. In the wintertime, at the height of the season, she would be at work at 6 in the morning, come home for dinner, and then return to the packing house. In the summers, she picked table grapes in the nearby farms. I remember how she would wake us up early in the mornings to ensure that we had a good breakfast, and then leave the house while it was still dark outside. I remember watching one of our relatives rub tiger balm on her swollen fingers and the long steaming baths she took when she came home in the summertime, leaving a pile of dusty clothes that smelled of dirt and sweat outside the bathroom. I don’t recall when she retired. But she packed oranges and picked grapes somewhere in the range of 30 years.

Graduation day at UC Davis, June 1985.

Graduation day at UC Davis, June 1985.

School was very important to both my parents. My father only had a second-grade education. Of course, only A’s were acceptable grades. We would attend and graduate from college and our degrees would provide us with solid careers. When I was a senior in high school, my mother helped me fill out financial-aid documents. She had to disclose her yearly salary in one of the forms, and when I looked at what she’d written I was stunned. Wasn’t she missing another digit, I asked. I still remember how she leaned towards me, her eyeglasses perched at the edge of her nose, her hands anchored on the kitchen table. “No,” she said, smiling. She had made sure that we were never for want of anything. Not food or shelter, clothes or non-necessities.It made me think of the time I was into sewing – back in the day when girls took home economics in elementary school. It was summertime. I had waited for my mother to come home from work because I wanted to go into town and buy some fabric to make a blouse. She came home too tired to eat lunch and in want of a nap. She berated me, telling me I always sewed a garment that I would either never wear or discard soon afterwards. In truth, it was rare that I liked something I had made, though I enjoyed sewing itself. I went to my room, lay prostrate on my bed, and cried. Soon afterwards, she came into my room and curtly announced that we would go to Montgomery Wards and look for fabric.

Celebrating her 85th birthday with her grandchildren, Folsom, CA, June 25, 2011.

Celebrating her 85th birthday with her grandchildren, Folsom, CA, June 25, 2011.

This past year, I have gravitated towards listening to music from the 1970s and 1980s – thanks to Pandora radio. While I have always had a weakness for music from those decades (and go through the motions of apologizing for my bad taste in music to friends), as I listen to the songs now, it brings me back to a time when you never ever doubted that your parents would always be there to protect you. They would always be this age, full of vitality even when they were weary of their lives.

I have found that when you discover your parents’ history – and this oftentimes only happens when you are an adult, and for me this happened when I was in college, after taking many Asian American Studies classes – you understand the root of their actions and decisions – good and bad, hurtful and big-hearted. And in that understanding, you receive the power of forgiveness, the weight of sacrifices, and most importantly, the burden and comfort of unconditional love with open arms.

Flowers for my mother's memorial service, January 9, 2012.

Flowers for my mother’s memorial service, January 9, 2012.

Transitions and Transformations Profile*: Laura Leventer of Personal Pizazz

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Without leaps of imagination, or dreaming, we lose the excitement of possibilities.
Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning.
 – Gloria Steinem, American journalist and women’s rights advocate

Laura Leventer, proprietor of Personal Pizazz.

Laura Leventer, proprietor of Personal Pizazz.

I first met Laura Leventer three years ago at a New Year’s Eve party thrown by a good friend who has known Laura since high school. I was struck by her utter confidence and fashion style – a fusion of classic, vintage and glamour. It was not a surprise to learn that she was proprietor of a clothing store called Personal Pizazz (3048 Claremont Avenue, Berkeley, CA, 94705, 510.420.0704).

What’s interesting to me is that Laura, now 45, was a teacher for 10 years and then spent the following six years as a department chairperson, principal, and district administrator. Though she loved teaching, working in administration proved to be unrewarding, very political and extremely stressful, especially on her family, with her son being very young at the time. The idea of opening her own clothing store for mostly women but also men wasn’t far-fetched, as Laura had always loved fashion and owned a business license for her personal shopping gigs on the side. She had worked in retail in college and gained valuable knowledge about the entire range of retail processes, and attended a couple of shows and made a few connections in her capacity as a personal shopper. Laura took a district-level administrative position to start saving for her big investment. When her father passed away and left her with enough money to add to her savings, she felt comfortable taking the risk and made that life-changing leap.

Purple walls provide a vibrant backdrop to highlight the luxurious clothing and accessories.

Purple walls provide a vibrant backdrop to highlight the luxurious clothing and accessories.

Filling the fashion niche in Berkeley
When Laura was an administrator, she wore business suits that many admired for being original, different and the antithesis of the retail-chain business suit. “That was the niche I wanted to fill,” she explained. “That was my original direction when I opened – nice-looking business wear that was functional enough for work but interesting enough so you didn’t feel like you were putting on a boring suit.”

Inviting armoires full of stylish clothes.

Inviting armoires full of stylish clothes.

Although she has clients who come to her store for that very reason, they are few and far between. Personal Pizazz’s clientele are mostly women 35 and up, although the timeless styles she carries appeal to all ages, such as formal dresses for proms and bar mitzvahs. Laura has found that many women are no longer dressing in business suits and the ones who do, for whatever reasons, are sticking with the retail-chain look. It’s been a challenge to reach out to them. “I’ve had to evolve to who comes in and what people want,” she explained. Berkeley is already home to artistic, flowing, interesting clothing shops. “It’s done; there are tons of that,” she said. There are, however, very few shops that offer fitted clothing. “I have people come in all the time and ask me if this is a vintage shop because the clothing is more classic style,” she said. And with its purple walls, chandeliers, carved sales-register desk, antique armoires and curio cabinets, and velvet dressing-room drapes, the vibe is definitely vintage.

One-woman business
As the sole employee, Laura is at the store six days a week. “It’s just me doing everything,” she said. As such, being organized is extremely important. She does her own accounting and all administrative tasks, which she tries to complete during store hours to keep work and life in balance. That said, her priority is to always be available for her customers. Despite the creation of charts and graphs to identify trends and make forecasts, there’s no logic to traffic flow into her store. “When I unlock the door for business, I never know what to expect,” she said, which is another reason to be organized and to plan ahead.

Tidying up the winter scarves near the Personal Pizazz neon sign before the first customers arrive.

Tidying up the winter scarves near the Personal Pizazz neon sign before the first customers arrive.

Laura goes to Los Angeles for market week four to five times a year. “Since I’m here six days a week, I’m very organized about what I do,” she said. She flies down Monday morning, attends 20-minute, pre-arranged appointments all day, and flies home that night. The few times she flies back East for appointments with her New York City-based vendors, she takes the Sunday red-eye flight and flies back Monday night. She previews vendors’ digitized line sheets ahead of time, which streamlines her appointments. “I’ve learned to never buy at the show because you will make mistakes,” she said. “You never know if another company will offer similar clothing at a better price or different color.” Laura takes detailed notes and snaps pictures with her iPad, which help her determine what she will order when she returns home. “I am particular and I know what I like,” she said. “I know what works for my customers.”

Laura has learned to always be prepared for the unexpected. Case in point: The ceiling lights died last Thursday, on the day that her store is open until 8PM. While her husband was willing to replace them, the lease calls for professional servicing. “That’s money I didn’t plan on spending, but I don’t have a choice,” she said. Therefore, Laura noted: “Always give yourself wiggle room.” She’s learned from a neighboring business that anything can go wrong and when it does you need to know what to do and whom to call.

Despite the challenges of being a business owner and sole employee, Laura revels in her son’s assessment of her career – indeed, her life: “As my son says, now my job is my hobby and my hobby is my job,” she said.

Personal Pizazz finds - Tocca coat and Asian Eye scarf.

Personal Pizazz finds – Tocca coat and Asian Eye scarf.

Q&A: In her own words
Q: Describe Personal Pizazz in 10 words or less.
A: Classic, quality clothing with a twist.

Q: What are some of the challenges you’ve encountered?
A: I’ve lived in and near Berkeley my whole life, and I dress the way I dress, but there aren’t that many people who do. Even people who want to, think they can’t because other people don’t. There is pressure to not care about clothing. That’s a constant battle. If it [an article of clothing] makes you happy, then your outlook is better, you feel happy, and in turn you look better.

 

Q: What’s the best thing about being the proprietor of Personal Pizazz?
A: Not having to answer to anyone else. My previous boss was the school board and I was jumping through hoops. There’s a lot of bureaucracy – forms to fill out, things you have to do. I still have a lot of forms to fill out and things I have to do, but I don’t have to justify or explain it to somebody else.

Personal Pizazz find - Zelda coat.

Personal Pizazz find – Zelda coat.

Q: What advice would you give to women who are looking to make a career transition or transformation?
A: Do your homework. To be honest, I thought I’d be making a lot more profit by now. There are decisions you have to make along the way. You have to create a nest egg. I was saving and saving until I got to the point where I could say, okay, I can go this amount of time without bringing home any money. And I have this much that I can invest and don’t expect to be able to take out because you’re not going to turn a profit quickly. People have to discover you and they have to become faithful. Whatever the business happens to be, you’re going to make mistakes in the beginning until you figure out what your niche is and what’s going to work. You have to have enough exposure so people know you’re there.

Personal Pizazz is located on beautiful, tree-lined Claremont Avenue in Berkeley.

Personal Pizazz is located on beautiful, tree-lined Claremont Avenue in Berkeley.

Post script: If you’re a local and this blog has whetted your interest, make your way to Personal Pizazz and let Laura know that you read about her store here. If you’re not a local but find your way to the San Francisco Bay Area, make Personal Pizazz a destination point.

*My Transitions and Transformations profile series chronicle stories of amazing women, not limited to women 50 and above, who have made inspirational and creative transitions or transformations in their lives. The series will run bi-weekly.