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It’s almost been a year since I've left my stable, cushy corporate job. I was never happy nor truly felt fulfilled there, despite the [false] sense of security it offered me. I didn’t leave with the intention of becoming a creative freelancer, or to even start a business. Honestly, I never thought I had what it took to be a business owner to begin with, so I had always chosen the “safe” traditional route. As the daughter of Cantonese-Vietnamese immigrants, it was always instilled in me that my career would result in 1 of 3 options: a career in the medical field, a career in STEM (my dad is a computer science nerd and engineer), or a career in business (preferably finance; and to be clear, not starting your own business because that is seen as unstable). However, I’ve always been creative, and everything I excelled at growing up was in the arts but therefore not seen as important (to my parents). I was never good at math but excelled in reading and writing. I have a core memory of my 6th grade teacher pulling me aside to tell me how great of a writer I was and encouraging me to keep doing so. I remember expressing to my parents how I wanted to be an author, to which my Dad immediately said, “Writers do not make money”. In that moment, I realized that to my parents success = “stable” 9-5 w/ guaranteed income success ≠ anything but a 9-5 w/ guaranteed income To preface, I don’t fault my parents for thinking this way - there’s nuance given that they were always in ‘survival’ mode growing up and had to make the best possible decision to secure their own stability for the sake of their own future. Still, it doesn’t mean that’s “right” or applicable to me and what I want to make out of my own life. I realize that their mindset has engrained itself into my subconscious, despite my doubts about it. It’s something I am still actively unlearning today. Because of it, I have always played it safe. I followed the safe path and did everything “right”: I went to college, got a degree in Business Administration (marketing), and secured a salaried job in tech. I remember sitting at my desk and often asking myself how I got there, how I landed such a mundane job and genuinely felt like my work was meaningless. There was always an itch for me to do something, anything other than plug numbers into an excel sheet. I mean, I taught myself how to use the sewing machine and make corsets out of curtains for crying out loud! Being self-employed is difficult because the system is not designed for “creative freelancers”. Being self-employed means you have to pay more in taxes (self-employment tax is 15.3%, not including income tax), and health insurance is daunting. You have to work twice as hard when you work for yourself. But I have learned it is not impossible. I love my job(s)! I own grl curated, a vintage clothing shop (online & IRL pop-ups), and I’m also a freelance website manager and designer for small businesses, such as Soul Real Market as of recently. Within this past year, I have learned so much about myself and the reality of choosing to work for yourself. Here are some of the lessons I’ve learned since leaving the “safe” route and pushing myself out of my comfort zones. Self-discipline and consistency Self-discipline and consistency are rooted in how much you believe in your vision. Starting a business, freelancing, and generally becoming self-sufficient is hard and it only works if you continue to show up and hold yourself accountable. It took a while for me to find my footing, but I now follow a rigid schedule as if I had a “regular” job. When I first started selling vintage, I constantly got into my head, “Am I wasting my time?” “Am I naive for thinking I could do this?” "Can this become a stable income for me to live off of?” “Am I delusional?” There were days when I was paralyzed by my thoughts and couldn't bring myself to do anything. “I realized over time that I had 2 choices: put 8 hours of work into grl curated (i.e. sourcing, mending, repairing, cleaning, and photographing clothing to list, vend at markets,etc) OR put 8 hours into applying to roles I couldn’t care less about on LinkedIn and play it safe.” I decided to clock in for myself and to see how far I could take both my shop and freelance career. With time, discipline, and consistency, I started to see results. Exploring Career Paths I was talking with a fabulous friend of mine, JH (brilliant visionary) and he told me how important it is for me to explore and not just stick with /one/ thing. Specifically, he was telling me to not just box myself in as “just a fashion grl.” It was a nice reminder of the importance of being multifaceted, and that my 20s are for exploring different passions. I have multiple passions: sustainable and vintage fashion, community building, website design, writing -the list goes on. For me, self-employment has been a great tool for self-discovery, exploration, and confidence. I found myself designing an entire website for Soul Real Market, a popular flea market in Southern California earlier this year. My previous role in corporate was a Site Operations Coordinator (TLDR; I was the point person in coordinating online promotions for all of these big corporations). I have a strong background in website management and have always loved front end website design (I learned how to code HTML/CSS at age 12 so I could have the cutest Tumblr blog possible). Looking back, I love how I was able to explore this path, while simultaneously operating grl curated and contributing as a newsletter writer to the Rambutan Round Up. I initially took the job to have two incomes because it made me feel more secure. But with time, I realized how much I loved building and maintaining websites to uplift and spotlight small businesses and makers. Not only that, but I was good at it when given creative control. Learn from your community One of my favorite aspects of owning a small business is being able to connect with other curators, makers, and customers. Although grl curated started off primarily operating online, I do monthly pop-ups at markets all around the Bay Area. I love meeting people who share the same passions as me and are succeeding at it. It made me feel like I can do it, too (and I am proud to say that I really am!!). I started to regularly sell at markets because of my dear friend Anh (owner of a2rchive). I have learned so much from her and am grateful of how she’d always invite me to pop up with her even though I was a newer seller. When I first started doing pop-ups, I had NO idea what I was doing. I bought the smallest and worst racks, and was still figuring out how to source efficiently and how much inventory I needed. It felt intimidating, especially because of how saturated the vintage scene was. I learned so much from not just Anh, but other curators and makers I’ve befriended along the way. With time, my booth set up got better and my inventory tripled. With every pop-up, I made improvements and saw better outcomes. One of my favorite market memories was when I made $800 in one day (Wardrobe Project Flea). It was a milestone indicating that my hard work is paying off, and that I am proving to myself that my vision for grl curated IS possible. DO IT SCARED I was scared for a very, very long time, even long before I quit my corporate job. And sometimes I still am. Even now. But I have realized that the time will pass anyway, so why not just do it? I also remind myself that it is a privilege to have the freedom to even try working for myself. Being able to build something for myself makes my life feel meaningful everyday. Some days, I feel like I have no idea what I am doing but I do it anyway. When I worked a traditional 9-5 job, I felt like I was dreading the weekdays and scared of how my life would look if I continued to climb the corporate ladder. When I work for myself, I am scared of failing. Either way, fear is inevitable, but reflecting on how much my life has shifted in a year, I am really proud of myself. My days do not feel meaningless; I love that I get to find cool vintage pieces, repair them, and ultimately give them a second life. My focus with grl curated is meant to provide accessible vintage to all, and seeing customers fall in love with the pieces they purchase from me is incredibly fulfilling. On the flip side, I love working with small business owners to build their dream website and to be able to positively uplift their business in that way. Most importantly, I’ve realized that “job stability” is nothing but an illusion. The current state of the job market is proof of this - you can experience instability with any job (i.e. tech corporate layoffs increasing 62% in 2026). If you’ve ever thought about taking the leap to work for yourself, whether through freelance or by starting your own business, I’d say do it! It is liberating to become self reliant in this way, to spend your days doing work that feels fulfilling and having the freedom to choose your schedule. It is not easy, but if you have a clear vision and goals to work toward, everything just might work out in your favor :) “I’d rather work 10x harder for myself than work to make another rich man richer.”

The term “girl’s girl” has been brought up excessively within the past few years. Because of my television-catered social media algorithm, I see it primarily used by the media to dissect the friendships between women, such as in Sex and the City to Love Island. Its use is tossed around so frivolously that its meaning has become diluted. But I believe at its root that it means to appreciate, see, love, and support the women around you, as a woman yourself. And who doesn’t want to do that? This concept became top of mind for me when one of my comfort reality TV shows, Summer House, had its own scandal that plagued my For You page. Stars Amanda Batula had begun secretly dating West Wilson, the ex of Ciara Miller, who was long-term friends with Amanda. Joint statement from Amanda Batula and West Wilson confirming relationship I remember sitting on my close friend's couch reading the joint statement confirming the relationship between Amanda and West, letting out the loudest gasp, to the point of my friend asking if something happened to me. As a seasoned Summer House fan, I refused to believe the speculation of romance between the costars that had been leading up to the statement. Vanderpump Rules was the show for backstabbing, social-climbing friends with numerous infidelity scandals, while Summer House was its much more chill party-loving cousin. Think of Summer House as the bougie Jersey Shore, trading in the Jersey boardwalks for the Hamptons beaches. A long-running staple of the show was the friendship between several women on the cast including Ciara and Amanda. Scenes from seasons past would show the women giggling in bed, gossiping about fellow cast members, and being each other's shoulder to cry on. I was moved by their genuine support for one another in starting businesses, vulnerability about their mental health, and the constant reassurance they gave one another that their personal worth went far beyond their romantic relationships. On this latest season, we saw Ciara offering Amanda a room in her NYC apartment as Amanda goes through her separation with her then-husband Kyle Cooke, and being a source of comfort in the demise of her marriage. The finale culminates in Amanda and Ciara tearfully expressing their love for one another and the importance they have in each other's lives. Paige DeSorbo, Ciara Miller, Amanda Batula I always admired and saw myself in aspects of Ciara. I had never seen anyone speak so candidly of having an incredibly rocky relationship with their family as I do, and the loneliness that accompanies it. Similarly to Ciara, my friends took the mantle on becoming who I would consider to be my family. Being gay, it’s very important for me to have a community of queer women around me that I trust and rely on as if they were my family. My friends have seen me at my lowest, answering anxiety-induced phone calls and coming to my house on a moment's notice with no questions asked. They may call me out for questionable behavior, but it’s honesty and coming from a place of compassion. I never once felt like a bother to my friends or misunderstood. I felt seen and cared for. The holidays I once spent alone are now filled with friends that I love. That's why watching the tearful “I love yous” Amanda and Ciara exchanged felt heartbreaking. These weren’t reality tv costars, they were friends with six years of history together. As a viewer, I was only privy to their summer's broadcast on Bravo, but it was evident the love Ciara felt towards Amanda. In what should’ve been a sweet moment of love between friends is clouded by betrayal. How could Ciara be so supportive of Amanda for leaving her toxic marriage, uplifting her time and time again, only to throw their years-long bond away to go to happy hour with that same man that caused her heartbreak? West, Amanda, Ciara By the time the three-part reunion premiered, it was evident that Amanda didn’t think twice about betraying Ciara. “You can’t help who you like!” Amanda pleaded in part one. What makes this even more sinister is that Amanda was using Ciara’s own words back at her. During Season 10, Ciara expressed this exact expression when tearfully explaining the backlash she received from viewers regarding the interracial relationships she was in during her run on the show, specifically her relationship with West: “Yeah, I guess if I could help it, I would. But you can’t help who you love. You can’t help who you are attracted to sometimes.” The reunion was incredibly frustrating to watch as Ciara tearfully expressed her hurt, while Amanda stared blankly back, looking half asleep. “West was there for me all summer—” Amanda began. “And where was I?!” Ciara rebutted. Did Ciara’s support through Amanda’s divorce mean nothing to her? Or did West’s support mean more because he was a man, and Amanda prioritizes validation from a man over friendship with a woman? Not very girl’s girl. Ciara would repeatedly bring up how her biggest issue with the men she dates is that they only saw her for her physical looks, but never saw for who she is as a person. I believe the exact same sentiment is true for Amanda. Her lack of remorse and awareness of Ciara’s pain revealed the truth of how she really sees her in the context of her own life. “You're special and you're so beautiful. And you're important and your voice matters,” Ciara spoke as she tearfully looked into Amanda’s eyes in the Summer House finale. Ciara wore her heart on her sleeve in her friendship with Amanda in a way that inspired me. She saw Amanda and loved her. I hope Ciara doesn’t regret her friendship with Amanda despite it all. There is nothing shameful about showing up for your friends wholeheartedly - it takes an incredible sense of trust, loyalty, and [platonic] love when deciding to be an active supporter in people’s lives. The courage to display these qualities - regardless of the reality of possibly being hurt in the process - is admirable, and we need to remind ourselves that being vulnerable no matter the consequences is all organically part of the human condition.

I feel the sweat clinging to my skin and the chill of the AC blasting overhead. Heads nodding in and out of sleep from my view at the back of the bus, swaying to the rhythm of the drive. Souvenir bags bulge out from the overhead shelves. The hum of the bus engine I’ve grown used to is playing in the background. The city lights peek out of both windows of the bus, and it’s a sea of stars. The tour to Sun Moon Lake is done. 2 hours back to Taipei. I’m processing everything that just happened today. There was a huge family that joined the same tour, and I couldn’t help but feel happy for them. The grandma holds onto her grandson’s back while they ride a bike around a picturesque lake. I’m sure they'll remember this for years to come. One of the tourists didn’t know how to ride a bike. The guide offers to give them a ride on theirs. “How do you like riding on the back of the bike?” I ask. “I really like it, I think I’m going to learn when I get back home”. I’m hoping they do. Wouldn’t that be the best souvenir, to have a life-changing bike ride that spurs you to learn a skill that you can keep with you for the rest of your life? We stopped by a famous tea store, and someone in our group was really excited to buy cakes and tea leaves; he bought two huge bags loaded with goods. An auntie took a photo of me in front of the visitor center that day. The fleeting nature of vacation tours makes me a bit sad once it’s all said and done. I start to think about returning to reality once my trip ends. This experience has been healing; I was able to take a well-needed break from work and spend some time with myself in a new environment. There were places that I wanted to check off my bucket list when I came to Taiwan, and going to Sun Moon Lake was a very memorable part of it. At the same time, I was hoping that this visit would somehow reveal to me the answers I was searching for. What direction should I go with my career? Will there be any creative projects that I can work on once I return? I worry about the uncertainty of the future, and I’m hoping that an “aha!” moment will end my anxiety. But I realize that it’s going to take some time for things to work themselves out, and that a trip can’t magically solve everything. The tourist next to me has spent the last ten minutes trying to take a picture of the moon. The highway walls and city lights start to meld together with the speed of the bus. What a human experience to find the moon so beautiful. I think about all the previous generations before me that looked up at the moon. The way that people around the world are so captivated by it that we’ve honored it through festivals across different cultures. We try to capture it through our phones, our paintings, our art, our writing, our eyes, all in the hopes of preserving a memory of its beautiful mysteriousness In an hour or so, we’ll all go our separate ways and bring our souvenirs home. There is a 99.9% chance I will never see these people again, but I don’t think I’ll forget them, at least not for a while. I see myself in them. In the way I wish to bring my grandma on a bike ride. In the way that I want to learn new things after experiencing different parts of the world. In the way that I can’t help but stock up on snacks for family and friends. It feels good to take photos for other tourists. I can’t help but look up at the sky and search for the moon. I walk back to the hotel, these thoughts lingering on my mind as I think about dinner plans.

In celebration of AAPI Heritage Month, I (Kyla, Social Media Manager for Club Rambutan) had the opportunity to connect and highlight a few AAPI artists whose work is shaped by their identities, experiences, and communities. Through these questions I asked, I learned about their creative journeys that brought them to where they are today, the cultural influences that inspire their work and what being an AAPI artist means to them. Sherelie Lum: Filipino & Chinese-American Photographer The first artist I spoke with was Sherelie Lum, a Filipino & Chinese American photographer, videographer, dancer, and creative director from South San Francisco Bay Area. Throughout the interview we got to talk about her identity, family, and how culture continues to shape the way she creates art. Between Suns, Sherelie Lum For Sherelie, art has been a part of her life for as long as she can remember. She first discovered her love for art when she was just eight years old in elementary school art class. What started with drawing and painting eventually grew into making polymer clay charms, and later expanded into what she does nowadays which is photography, videography, and dance. When asked about her earliest influences, Sherelie reflected and immediately thought of the teachers Ms. Castillo and Ms. Bonny, who encouraged her creativity. They introduced her to everything ranging from oil pastels, lanyard making, knitting, and many more. As she got older she found inspiration online through creators like Conan Gray, whose videos sparked her interest in photography and visual storytelling. Today, Sherelie’s work is deeply connected to her Filipino and Chinese heritage. Rather than existing separately from her art, her culture is something she intentionally weaves into the projects that she creates. One example is from her creative direction series Between Suns, where she wore an heirloom passed down from her lola as a way of honoring her Filipino roots. More recently, her cafe pop up Shlums Kapé, incorporated mahjong, a game that was a constant presence throughout her childhood. What started as a personal nod to her Chinese side later became something more meaningful when she additionally discovered the connection of mahjong to Filipino culture. Throughout the interview, one theme kept coming up which was the importance of memory. Sherelie shared how much of her inspiration comes from her grandparents and the stories they carried with them from the Philippines and China. Food was specifically the most important way she connects to her culture. Sherelie spoke about the relationship she had with her grandfather and how sharing meals became a way of understanding not only him, but the culture he came from. That connection between food, family, and identity eventually found its ways into projects like Shlums Kapé, transforming her pop up into something much more personal and intimate than being a typical cafe experience. When I asked what it means to be an AAPI artist, Sherelie described it as both an opportunity and responsibility. She sees art as a way to share stories that aren’t always told and as a space to navigate her own experience growing up between Filipino and Chinese American identities. What stood out most to me was her desire to create work that helps others feel seen. Whether someone is reconnecting with their own heritage or still figuring out where they fit, Sherelie hopes her work encourages people to explore their own cultural identities deeply. She also spoke about a challenge many AAPI artists experience which is balancing creative passions with cultural expectations around success. For many artists, pursuing a creative career can mean pushing against expectations that prioritize that stability and traditional career paths. Because of this, Sherelie hopes people take the time to understand that AAPI culture is more than an aesthetic or trend. It’s a lived experience filled with history, complexity, and personal stories that deserve to be respected. Talking with Sherelie reminded me that art can be more than self expression, it can be a way of preserving memories, honoring family, and creating connections between generations. Through her photography, creative direction, and community centered projects, she continues to celebrate both sides of her heritage while creating spaces where others can do the same. Darius Varize: Illustrator & Painter with Black, Japanese, and Filipino roots. The second artist I spoke with was Darius Varize, a Bay Area native with Black, Japanese, and Filipino roots. His art is primarily through illustration, painting and drawing. Growing up as the son of a retired clothing designer, Darius was surrounded by art and fashion from an early age. Those experiences shaped not only his creative interests but also the way he approaches storytelling in his art today. When discussing about his influences, Darius pointed to artists and creators such as Yoshitomo Nara, Otomo Katsuhiro, and Gainax animation. Their work helped shape his understanding of composition, and visual storytelling. Like Sherelie, Darius sees his heritage as inseparable from the work he creates. Rather than intentionally setting his art to be about identity, he explains that his Japanese and Filipino roots naturally influence how he views the world and the references he draws from. Through animation, fashion, and visuals, those experiences became part of his work. One aspect of Darius’ work that I found really interesting was his focus on representation. Inspired by Yoshitomo Nara’s use of cardboard as canvas, Darius began experimenting with similar materials while reimagining who gets represented within those spaces. He intentionally creates worlds that include black, brown, and more ambiguous bodies, people who have often been left out of traditional narratives and visual culture. For Darius, being an AAPI artist means contributing his own experiences and perspectives to larger conversations about culture, identity, and representation. As someone who comes from multiple cultural backgrounds, Darius embraces complexity and uses art as a way to explore how different identities can coexist. When asked about what he wishes more people understood about AAPI communities, Darius emphasized diversity. He challenged the idea that there is a single AAPI experience, explaining that AAPI artists bring a wide range of histories, influences, and perspectives into their work. To him, representation is not only about visibility, but about who gets the opportunity to shape culture and to tell these stories. As we celebrate AAPI heritage month, conversations like these remind us that art can be more than creative expression, it can be a way of preserving culture, building community, and telling stories that might go unheard. Whether through family traditions, food, photography, illustration, or storytelling, both artists honor where they come from while creating spaces for others to feel seen. Their work serves as a reminder that AAPI communities are incredibly diverse, and that those diverse experiences deserve to be celebrated and shared. Although Sherelie and Darius work in different mediums and draw inspirations from different experiences, both artists highlighted something that stayed with them throughout these interviews. Identity is not one dimensional.

I’m 26. I’m so young and yet also not. So much has changed and yet stayed the same, I’ve had fundamental realizations that I’m sure will be a laugh and a wave of a hand in ten years. After organizing my trains of thought, four stood out amongst the rest. You may have heard them before and if so, you’re going to hear them again. Perhaps there’s a reason everyone says them. Table of Contents Fail but also don’t Every day is a winding road… (Sheryl Crow) Core value-core Kill yourself (not ACTUALLY, please let me explain) FAIL BUT ALSO DON'T... We hear a lot about how starting something is the hardest part, or that “with intelligence versus persistence, persistence always wins.” I’ve personally found the entire cycle of trying something new to be difficult—I hate letting people see my ideas, my work in progress, or even the final result. Everything is easier with your cards held to your chest. But the worst part is that everyone knows what it takes to get better! Think about how the concept of struggle is often portrayed in the media - we love to root for an underdog, and getting a deep dive on how all their blood, sweat, and tears accumulate towards a seemingly overnight success. Theoretically, the knowledge is there to absorb and learn, and to apply it you must hypothesize, test, and fail numerous times before you get it. You want to make something happen? You need to have a voice and an opinion rather than be cordial and understanding. Ask for help; tell people you need them. Be afraid! Be afraid of the mistakes and looking stupid and as if you don’t have it together. People say you have to fail to succeed, but that’s really not so true, is it? Some failures are impossible to come back from. The cycle is persistent. The fear is real. Progress is painful and slow and tortuous and god, sometimes the reason you need someone from the corporate world is because those fuckers know that 80% of a project is real work and the last 20% is fretting over it. The world moves on and people will forget your accidents so fast - UNLESS it happens again. So fail and learn and fail and learn and never make the same mistake more than three times. Perfectionism has a place, but there must be an end to every cycle, a closing of every loop. A long time ago, I started only writing in pen because a dear friend of mine told me that it made you more deliberate with what you were writing, and you would make fewer mistakes. I just started crossing mad shit out. A long time ago, I started only writing in pen because a friend told me you would make fewer mistakes. I just started crossing mad shit out. EVERYDAY IS A WINDING ROAD (SHERYL CROW) Living with close friends is worth it. When else, other than your twenties, will you be able to live in such close, joyous proximity to them? The time with friends and family decreases drastically as you get older. People get married, have kids, vanish to Croatia, and it comes faster than you think. They’ll value other relationships more as they probably should. It’s the way of the world and the natural order of life. I realized how fast time was flying by when I returned home after college. By then, I’d been transiently gone for 6 or 7 years, starting with a stint in the hospital, to boarding school, then college. The house I returned to wasn’t the house I grew up in, and it was only half decorated because my poor father had no interior design taste. I was unemployed for months, eating greek yogurt in the morning and salmon in the afternoon—a rich, nutritious life indeed, benefitting from all the lessons my father had already learned without taking the time to learn for myself. There, I realized my brother was a fully formed human being during this time, and we slowly, awkwardly became friends. My brother actually is turning 21 during the publication of this newsletter. Everyone think to themselves, happy birthday Maya's unnamed brother! This isn’t a section on how you should live with your family, rather coming to the understanding that it’s truly about how you realize how much faster your life speeds up each year. It’s understandable, considering how the older you get, that each year is but a smaller fraction of what you’ve already lived. I first heard the phrase, “The days go by slow, but the weeks go by fast,” in the hospital when I was seventeen. Unfortunately, it’s true, and has been ever since then. What a curse! CORE VALUE-CORE You come to realize you have a core value. It shows up in all your relationships—platonic, romantic, familial. Once you find out what you truly value above all else, you’ll understand what you need moving forward. For me, it’s independence. I have a lot of confidence that I can do anything on my own (is this a little bad sometimes? sure) so I know I don’t need anyone. Even as I’ve grown, and to varying degrees wagged a finger at this part of myself, it’s still hard to not feel suffocated. To let something of this nature define you, it’ll be both your greatest strength and greatest weakness. The human race is hypocritical and paradoxical with our ideals, wants and needs. I’m sure you’re thinking along the lines of the attachment styles, but that’s not what I mean. I have a friend whose core value is kindness; her nature truly is to choose kindness wherever she goes. She’s still a stubborn bitch though, I’ll tell you that. What’s so terrible about being kind, you ask? The weakness there is the inability to truly be selfish. KILL YOURSELF Your taste narrows and you discover what you really like. Who are you? Settle into your bones. What lines work for your body? What colors? What makes you feel confident when you step into a room? What makes you feel happy? the ridiculous haircut I can still remember the first day I got blunt baby bangs (along with the rest of a ridiculous haircut that no longer remains) and how I felt looking into the mirror. Years of thrifting and accidental clothing overconsumption led me to realize that not everything interesting and cool and beautiful needs to be claimed. A very difficult lesson to learn. It’s not, “what do I want myself to wear,” it's “what will I wear?” It’s not, “what do I want myself to wear,” it's “what will I wear?” I like boots for the look and because they’re easier to take off than sneakers. I am somehow not a fan of Mary Janes even though I always think I will be. The strap over the foot is more annoying to buckle than a boot… and I always prefer a boot. I don’t like wearing sweatpants, especially out of the house. I value comfort in many ways, but too much comfort feels greedy and indulgent. I will always want shorts underneath any short skirt or dress so I don’t have to think about accidentally exposing myself. Some indulgent outfits from the past couple years, boot central. There’s an idealistic view we have of ourselves that we have to break. At some point, though, you gotta be real with yourself. Who are you truly? I’m a bitch who wakes up 20 minutes before work in the morning and barely makes it on time (and I’m remote). My bangs need to be this short because if they’re longer they require styling and then I’ll be a greasy bangs girl. I prefer short(er) hair to long hair because right now I have wonderfully long hair that doesn’t work with the hairstyles I enjoy. The sooner you accept you, the sooner you can adapt to what you really need. It’s time for some soul searching.

It’s April and it feels like the Bay Area has already gone through all 3 seasons (s/o climate change). This spring, I’ve been outside more: going to the beach, picnicking, and solo walks by the lake. The vibrancy all around me has indirectly influenced my style. I've found myself gravitating towards more color and collecting basics in natural fabrics. But what exactly goes into building my  perfect spring wardrobe?  Playful color & pattern combinations Rule #1 of dressing like Tiffany: don’t be afraid to mix patterns and textures! One of the best examples is my fit for my 26th birthday at Lake Merritt. Miraculously, the weather was gorgeous for early March! My outfit was heavily inspired by the spring time colors at the lake: an early 2000’s silk halter top with hues of green and blue paired with a Kimchi Blue  baby yellow satin patchwork mini skirt, blue sheer tights, and vintage Miz Moo yellow button ballet platforms. For my jacket, I brought out my signature vintage penny lane, as it naturally goes with almost every outfit. I also remembered my Tiffany blue picnic basket I found at a yard sale some years ago - it was the cherry on top. WHY IT WORKS: The silk top and satin skirt complemented each other well, adding an interesting texture to the whole look. The blue tights were a fun touch aesthetically, but were also functional as it kept my legs warm. My Miz Moo shoes were also the perfect pop of yellow, tying in the warm tones from my skirt and penny lane.  Shoes <3 The key to a comfy-cute outfit is the shoes.  As I look through the outfits I’ve worn in March and April so far, it’s the common denominator. My most common combo is a mini skirt paired with comfortable long boots. On the actual day of my birthday, I wore my Gap × Sandy Liang Vegan Fur Crop Denim Jacket , paired with an Old Navy denim cargo mini skirt and brown moto boots. The moto boots have a chunky heel and effortlessly go with every mini skirt I own. They truly are the most comfortable and versatile pair of boots I own. I wore them to Portola last year and danced all night with them on, and they’ve been my go-to ever since.  I also wore them when I worked at Club Rambutan’s ICE BREAKERZ event at The Fold in San Francisco later that month. I wore a slouchy off the shoulder “I <3 NY” tee and a black plaid mini skort, paired with the boots. Gap x Sandy Liang Jean Jacket + moto boots What I wear to work My “what I wear to work” outfits have changed drastically over the years. When I used to work in corporate, I didn’t have much time (or energy) to put much thought into what I wore. I’d often wear gray trousers with a buttoned top or jeans and a nice top with a simple ballet flat.  But I am now a #selfemployedbaddie,  and what I wear really depends on what I have planned for the day. I sell vintage clothing full time ( @grlcurated ) and am the Website Manager for Soul Real Market  My work week is split into days where I’m either physically sourcing for inventory, popping up at markets, or working from home.  On the days I source and sell at markets, I am almost always in my black Nike Air Rifts . I originally bought my own pair for a CDMX trip last year because I wanted to buy comfortable walking shoes that were not sneakers. I loved how they looked like an athletic Mary Jane and at the time, the split toe design was popularized by Maison Margiela’s tabis. The design actually originated in Japan, as the jika-tabi was created for functionality. The separation of the big toe allows for more mobility, better balance, and overall support for your feet when walking.  Nike Air Rift Tabis On my WFH days, I gravitate towards soft, breathable pieces that still feel styled enough to feel like me. I still want to look presentable but comfortable. I love wearing cotton baby tees and comfortable, loose pants like my black plisse pleated pants or flared yoga pants. For shoes, I’ll switch between my Nike Air Rifts , classic UGG’s Ultra Mini Booties , or  Azalea Wang Kismet Mules . Azalea Wang Kismet Mule Azalea Wang Kismet Mule Aside from the shoes, breathable materials like cotton and silk are my best friends during a heat wave. I recently bought a green Alice + Olivia silk halter top, the perfect elevated basic. The top has an oval open back, which is a subtle but unique detail that makes the piece stand out.      I’ve also rediscovered an old American Eagle cotton striped mini skirt I haven’t worn since college. The way I style it now, at 26, is so different from how I wore it then at 22. It’s a sweet reminder of how my style has changed over the years, but also the beauty of owning timeless, quality pieces in your closet. Alice + Olivia silk green top A&E white & brown striped cotton mini Bags, bags, bags  If you know me, you know that I used to have  a mountain of bags hanging from my door, and most of which I no longer reached for. So, I sold a big chunk of my purses because I want to diversify my bag collection.  I kept my most-used  ones which includes a handful ofGuess bags, the Baby Phat baguette, and Betsy Johnson hobo bag. The bulk of my collection are smaller purses, which are perfect for a girl’s night out or date night (no need for the wallet when my boyfriend is there!) but not very practical for an errands run.  I’ve only gotten one new bag so far.  I was given a beautiful Coach Hamptons signature satchel shoulder bag in embossed red leather from my sweet boyfriend, Abner. It’s the perfect shade of red and has gold hardware. Based on the creed on the inside of the bag, it’s from May 2007 (almost vintage).  I love the functionality - it's durable, structured, medium-sized, and has multiple compartments that are  perfect for everyday use. I wore it to my birthday dinner the same night and it’s been in my rotation ever since.  Betsy Johnson Hobo Bag, 2007 Coach Bag, Baby Phat Baguette, Guess Colorful Monogram Baguette My perfect spring wardrobe is still in progress, but I’m slowly but surely getting there <3 ( Emphasis on slowly) .

There’s a number of things that I learned from Leean Pan that Club Chazu and Club Rambutan have in common (other than the fact we both have the word “club” in our title, lol). But I was pleasantly surprised to discover that she and I were somewhat similar on an individual level, too. I saw Leean for the first time at the Neo Lunar New Year market in Downtown Oakland earlier this month, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to her - she was busy with customers who were crowding around at her booth, eager to look at all her merchandise. With four years of expertise under her belt, Leean is a full-time jewelry designer born and raised in the Bay Area, and (in her words) is a “first and a half” generation Chinese-Japanese-American. In this interview, we explored her methods of honoring her heritage through her craft. MARIA: What is the Club Chazu logo? How did you (or the designer) come up with it? LEEAN: The logo was designed by one of my friends. Since I do a lot of beading and wire work in my designs, it is literally supposed to look like one of the first designs I ever made, which is the flower motif with the two lines in the middle being like strings or wire threaded through.  Conceptually, it's also supposed to look like a bowl of rice with chopsticks on top. I definitely have a soft spot for the logo - it symbolizes the beginning of my journey in doing this, so it's very heartwarming for me to just see it in different places. MARIA: Long story short, what's the story behind how you got into jewelry making? LEEAN: I started at the end of 2020, so pretty early in the pandemic. I had a very reflective period in a time of such sadness and chaos, I not only wanted to do something for myself, but I was also thinking a lot about how I could create something that was also community-oriented. My love for fashion, my love for community, and also wanting to be a voice in the Asian community manifested Club Chazu. A lot of my whole purpose in doing this is to share stories and to connect different generations and cultures across the diaspora together through commonalities. MARIA: On the website, there’s a quote from you that states, ” For me, fashion has always been about what makes me feel the most comfortable in my body and what I feel represents my inner being ”. How would you describe your “inner being”, and how do you try to communicate that through your craft? LEEAN: Fashion is all about expression, right? I mean…for what else, I suppose? not even just fashion - art is a form of whatever is existing within somebody - emotionally, their experiences in life, their perspective. It echoes your character.  We were talking about doing what we do to serve the AAPI diaspora*** , and I think that if I were to zoom out, it really is just my way of encouraging others to not be afraid to show who they are in this very moment. We’re ever-changing and evolving and are going to go through things that will change us. When I’m making choices everyday, like when I’m dressing myself or deciding what to eat, it’s about who I want to be that day, today. are moldable and that’s okay, so I find beauty in that. So with my jewelry, I want people to feel a sense of flexibility when they’re wearing a piece of mine, to express something, whatever that means to them.  ***I used to be involved with Asian American/Pacific Islander advocacy and event planning at Arizona State University through student leadership, and had initially planned for Club Rambutan to serve primarily AAPI artists before expanding to a more intersectional scope. MARIA: I completely agree. I love how you touched on the topic of “change” and that change, regardless if it’s anticipated or not in our lives, usually ends up somewhat influencing a piece of our own identity and how we navigate the world. The concept of identity happens to be the focal theme for Issue 3 of Club Rambutan’s magazine , and I talk about this in my letter from the editor What would you say is the greatest milestone/accomplishment you’ve achieved so far in establishing your business? LEEAN: There's so many different things I feel I could talk about, which is great to say, you know? A goal of mine for the last five years has always been to connect with people. Like I mentioned, community is very important to me and I'm really proud that I found a way to create things that people resonate with that they also get to take home. The product and business part is still really important, but doing all that behind the scenes and being able to present it in a package or on a table and have someone read the story behind it has really been a heartwarming experience for me. I try to tell a lot of stories through my jewelry. Some that are my own experiences growing up through my heritage, but also to use my jewelry as a vessel for others’ stories as well, like those who I meet along the way. So by building this open line of communication with my customers, in the way that I post on social media and especially in the way that I try to show up in person, it’s really important to me to hold space for people coming in.  Whether they’re seeing my things for the first time or have been long-time customers, I always try to create a safe space for them to feel comfortable talking to me.  Fashion can be a little intimidating, but it doesn’t have to be that way, you know? I chose “Club” Chazu because it’s not so much as being an exclusive experience, but actually an inclusive one. (Admittedly, Club Rambutan used to be just “Rambutan”, and I made it a placeholder name because I was craving it while coming up with the idea for the collective. I tacked on “Club” a month later because I thought it just sounded cooler ;P) MARIA: I also read that your jewelry intends to represent Asian American & Pacific Islander (AAPI) cultures by “paying homage to past generations” . Scrolling through the shop page, I’m picking up on a very common theme in your merchandise: jade and pearl material, which are mostly assembled into a flower design that is made up of either five or six beads.  Why these materials, and why the flower design? And knowing this, how do you feel that these details accurately contribute to Club Chazu’s mission to honor such communities “across the diaspora”? LEEAN: I have to start by acknowledging that quote about “paying homage” because I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for my grandparents or parents. I have a lot of appreciation for my grandparents who raised me and all the struggles they went through to give me a good life. I started Club Chazu to encourage the younger generation to wear their culture with pride. My materials also call to that because I use jade due to its integral values and properties across Asian cultures and families. The six-petal flower is actually just my modern take on the traditional jade donut. I wanted to do something more on the cutesy side, and a lot of my other designs are a little bit childish which is done on purpose.  Overall, Club Chazu pays homage to our ancestors who may have felt like they had to hide when assimilating into this country. We all have different stories about that. So I see it as me wearing jade proudly, or wearing different motifs, textures, color combinations that are viewed as “more Asian” as a way of standing up for them, doing it for them. Like, now we can do this and be proud of who we are. It’s really important to me to do that, and have my business be part of that legacy.  You can follow along Club Chazu’s jewelry journey on their Instagram and website .

Last month, I meant to write an article about what to do when you get laid off or find yourself suddenly unemployed. This is because, and I’m sure you’ve guessed, I was laid off in January. Great news though, just one month and some change later, I am about to be employed again! I am SO excited to have health insurance, money, and a reason to post on Linkedin. When I got laid off, there were two other people in the room with me, my roommate and her friend visiting from Indiana. Normally, this would be an awkward situation, but I’m wired to love awkward situations so I immediately texted a group chat.  Getting laid off is odd because they say things like, “budget cuts,” “we’re so sorry to have to do this,” and you’re thinking to yourself, “Okay… let’s keep this moving…” and in my case, you end the call with, “Thanks! Or I guess, maybe not haha.”  Now for the important part - what DO you do after you get laid off? Email the appropriate people with any questions you can possibly think of. What happens to my 401K? When do I get my last paycheck and then my severance check? How long does my health insurance stay active? Who can I use as a reference when applying to new jobs? Do I get PTO + sick time payout? (In AZ, legally they don’t have to) CONFIRM in writing you are being laid off and NOT fired. You can also ask your now-former employer their reason behind you being laid off if you want that in writing, too. Text your work group chat if you have one and complain a little. Maybe Facetime. Apply for unemployment benefits ASAP. You can do that HERE. After you do this, you will need to file weekly claims here .  Apply for Medicaid if needed. Go out with your friends and enjoy the rest of the day. I personally went shopping with my roommates.  Being serious here, it would also be a good idea to sit down and evaluate your savings and your monthly living costs to see how much time you have to find a new job. I lived at home for a year after college, so I had a good chunk in savings, but I know many are not as fortunate to have that safety cushion. Make a spreadsheet, see how long you can make it work and hit up Linkedin.  Speaking of applying to jobs, I can provide some other sites besides Linkedin to check out if you are between jobs.  https://hiring.cafe/ Takes Indeed job postings and removes the potential scams and ghost listings. Says that it scrapes companies' listings that post on their own websites. https://remote.co/remote-jobs Pretty obvious, for remote jobs. https://simplify.jobs/ Only lists jobs directly from the company site. https://jobs.workable.com/ Job board provided by an ATS company, so you are only applying to jobs directly on the company's system. https://www.ordermycareer.com/400-job-boards/ Some guy on reddit put this together and constantly updates it for various industries. The goat fr.  And now for some Linkedin tips (you can trust me on this because I was in a business fraternity).  Look up keywords in search regarding your job field - many times you can find people who are involved in the hiring process posting direct links to the job.  If you see a job posting within 6 hours and you apply, even if it’s Easy Apply, your application will likely be seen. This does not apply to when the job is ‘reposted.’ This is actually how I got my new job… I EASY APPLIED within 2 hours of the job posting. Literally could not believe my eyes when I got a call back. Absurd. Connect with anyone you can find in the field you are aiming to be in. Even other people who are looking at the same jobs as you … because you can see when they comment underneath posts going, “Just applied, would love to connect and chat about this!” My bad if this is a little evil but game is game.  That’s all I got for now, but remember - rejection is redirection. Yes, that saying is overused and sounds stupid, but cliches are always there for a reason. And if you’re employed and reading this, IDGAF!!! THIS ISN’T FOR YOU!!

Do you remember the first band you fell in love with? An artist whose music, no matter how long you went without listening to it, is so engrained into your being that singing along is simply muscle memory. This past month, I flew to windy San Francisco and attended the Long Live the Black Parade anniversary tour to see my childhood favorite band, My Chemical Romance. I was first introduced to My Chemical Romance around the age of nine, when the Danger Days album was released. I became an instant fan and made it my mission to memorize every lyric from every album, watch every interview, and purchase any MCR merch in sight at Hot Topic. I remember making mixtapes on burned CDs for my friends that contained all my favorite songs from Bulletproof Heart to Disenchanted and Thank You For the Venom . I felt like I discovered a beautiful gem and wanted to share my treasure with everyone. Seeing an artist be outspoken about their fears of death and dying and the bluntness of their battles of addiction, was something I never saw others talk about. I didn’t know there were people with similar experiences to mine, and didn’t feel ashamed to speak on their struggles. I felt like I needed to send 100 thank-you letters to four emo boys who didn’t even know I existed. My emo stan era was cut short, however, when the band announced their breakup in 2013. I was heartbroken, but life went on, and I slowly stopped listening to their music. I gave away my old t-shirts, their CDs collected dust on my shelves, and my beloved emo boys became a distant memory. However, the emo kid persists. Though I knew MCR inside and out, I never gave their debut album, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, a chance. I one day had the urge to give it a try while working my day job, and I played it from start to finish. This changed everything. The rush of hearing Gerard Way’s voice again sent waves of childhood memories flooding back, and the charm of a lowly produced work of music was encapsulating. The Dawn of the Dead inspired track Early Sunsets Over Monroeville being a particular standout with Frank Iero’s soft, yet melancholic, melody during the verses. I couldn’t stop and had to listen to their entire discography. I felt as though I was experiencing their art for the very first time again; everything felt somehow new and different, but tearfully nostalgic. I understood their art in a new way that I was unable to comprehend as a child. I felt like I was being embraced in a warm hug from an old friend who found their way back to me. That night I looked to see if they had any upcoming shows, and they had announced their stadium tour that day. Tickets went on sale and were bought instantly - trip planned, hotel booked and all. Standing in Oracle Park with my MCR hoodie was surreal—the months of anticipation had finally led to this moment. Within the first few notes of The End , the tears instantly flowed. I couldn’t believe I was hearing the soundtrack of my childhood and surrounded by so many others who could shout the lyrics I had spent hours memorizing in middle school. I was overwhelmed, but I felt so much love and gratitude in my heart that I wanted to scream the lyrics that had helped me in ways I couldn’t begin to articulate. Through my smudged eyeliner tears, I just knew I had to sing each lyric as loud as I could.

ALREADY LONGING FOR MY FAVORITE SPOTS AROUND TOWN After living in Downtown Phoenix for 8 years, I’m starting a new chapter in my life as I move to San Francisco to continue higher education. As I look on to what my new life will look like in a new city, I can’t help but think about my local Phoenix staples. I lived most of this time without a car but have been lucky enough to live within walking or light rail distance from these places. For my last little hurrah, I’ve decided to spend some time at the spaces I’ve frequented over the past few years and share some reasons and memories of why I enjoy these places. Stinkweeds Records For a local and independent record store, Stinkweeds Records keeps it real and local. The store employees are always excited to help you find a new artist or put you on to some of their favorite albums. My favorite part of going is seeing all the local Arizona music on display. I’ve always found record stores to be a magical place where you can discover new sounds and uncover new artist obsessions, and Stinkweeds continues to foster the love for music in Phoenix. Events such as listening parties or album release parties are also a great way to meet people and give you something to look forward to. Fàme Caffe Fàme has been my go-to food spot for years. As a lover of eggs and places that sell breakfast all day, this is my usual recommendation when people are looking for plans. Especially, if you had a late night out and looking for something to cure your headache. My usual order is: Horchata Latte Parisian Omelet OR Veggie Scramble (both pictured here) This restaurant has heard me and my friends talk about various topics: analyzing text messages from different crushes, gossiping about people we knew from high school or college, exploring the many ways democracy could progress, and even figuring out plans to quit jobs or find new opportunities to better suit us. If walls could talk, Fàme would have a lot to say about me that’s for sure. Kahvi Coffee When this place opened up the previously named Monorchid, I will admit I was a bit skeptical. But after time, Kahvi became the spot I would frequent when I was working on essays in undergrad, the place I would decompress after my first morning interviews when I graduated, and where I would bring work home on the weekends. With free Wifi, great food, and a sweetened Matcha latte I love, I’ve spent hours in Kahvi’s great atmosphere. And a perk for me, it is only a few blocks away from the light rail and a 15 minute walk from my apartment. Club Rambutan has had a few meetings here, and even our most recent team photo shoot was taken here! Groundwrk Last year, I had a little health scare as I realized my mild scoliosis was definitely affecting my body. After doing physical therapy for a few months, I decided to look for workout studios across the valley that I could try- I am not someone who can go to the gym on their own and be productive. For a few months, I tried different studios but only one stuck out to me as a place I could be comfortable in and that was Groundwrk. They offer Lift (HIIT workouts) and Ride (spin classes) at their studio all throughout the day with special themes or target work out areas. I found it to be especially fun as the studio is LGBTQ+ owned and operated, which means you already know the music is going to be full of bangers. I’ve spent pretty much every week here now for over a year and I’m a little nervous about finding a new place that makes me comfortable to be sweaty around a lot of people. Heard Museum I spent the past three years working for the Heard Museum in various capacities and have made lifelong friends out of my colleagues and artists I have met during my time there. Working there made me learn more about Indigenous arts and crafts, while also meeting amazing changemakers and outspoken artists.  Every year, the Heard Museum hosts the Heard Museum Guild Indian Fair and Market which has become the time of year I look forward to the most. I don’t anticipate being able to fly out every March on my law school budget so I’ll truly miss getting to visit and support over 600 Native artists. Palabras Bookstore Looking for a local place to find banned, queer, and revolutionary books? Palabras is the spot to not only look for new reads, but to also experience book clubs, attend workshops, and listen to visiting authors. Throughout the past few years, this spot has also been the place I’ve met up with friends and organizers to meet in a safe space to talk freely about our views about the world. Burton Barr Library Going to the library has always been a calming activity for me. Growing up, the Surprise library was where I spent my summers and weekends so when I moved to Phoenix, making this local library my third space was inevitable. In undergrad, I would do my studying here when I wanted to get away from campus and when I was studying for the LSAT, this became my place to seek quiet. With study breaks, I found myself looking over the featured book shelves and reading excerpts of books to add to my neverending list of books to read. In a time where libraries are under threat of being dissolved and defunded, my appreciation for an accessible area for free reads, free air conditioning in 100+ temperature, and free events has grown exponentially. Central Records Central Records is a cute little cafe and bar filled with records and books. It’s no secret I love attending events, and this venue hosts a lot of them. From benefit events for Palestine, mahjong nights and chess club, and weekly DJ sets, it’s a cozy place to see and support friends in their art. For a while I was leading the monthly mahjong night events and working with their staff was super fun and easy to do. Gracie’s Tax Bar It’s no secret Gracie’s is my local watering hole. Growing from a small little dive bar my friends and I used to frequent a couple years ago just for their cheese curds and tater tots to what has now become an insanely packed venue with themed nights, karaoke fundraisers, prize awarding game nights, flea markets, and of course, Phoenix-based live music and DJ sets.  Doesn’t matter what night you’re going during the week- something fun awaits. I’ve made many friends, heard a lot of stories, and genuinely found new connections just by waiting in line for the bathroom or sitting on the patio sharing a light. It may be crazy to call a dive bar a special place to call home but with a scene so uniquely Phoenix, I find Gracie’s to be irreplaceable.

My honest review of the West Coast Craft Waves Vintage Market My perfect Saturday? Going to San Francisco on a sunny day (very rare in July for us in the Bay Area) and (window) shopping for vintage must-haves. I went to theWest Coast Craft Waves VintageMarket in Fort Mason, so you didn’t have to, and here’s my honest review.  For context,  earlier this year, I started to get really bored with my closet. I was uninspired when it came to creating an outfit, which was a feeling I haven’t felt in a while. For me, getting dressed is much more than just grabbing a random top I feel comfortable in -- I’m very intentional with the pieces I choose to wear. Not to be pretentious, but when I wear pieces that make me feel good, it makes going about my day easier. So, I had cleaned out over half of my entire wardrobe. This feeling stemmed from the crazy amount of clothes I had accumulated that I no longer touched (you can read more about the importance of curating your own style here ).  I’ve been slowly rebuilding my closet with quality pieces that offer longevity, timelessness, and, of course, that resonate with me.   Here are some of the things I have been looking for:  Accessories. Thinksterling silver and gold jewelry, eclectic satin scarves, funky sunglasses, and artisanal rings. Purses. I have a BIG vintage purse collection (even after I downsized) and want to lean more into collecting more vintage designer, now that I have the financial means to. Clothes .  Quality, versatile basics, as well as fun, bold statement pieces.  The WCC Wave Vintage Market was in the Gateway Pavilion at Fort Mason in San Francisco, being one of the many artisanal and vintage fashion markets that have been hosted there. The market was huge, with over 100+ booths of curated vintage clothing, furniture, jewelry, and anything else you can think of. It was a little overwhelming because of how many people there were, but it was still a great time! There were two floors to explore. The ground floor was mostly vintage fashion in mint condition (and unfortunately, way out of my price range). But I had fun sifting through the racks and putting my Anna Wintour face on. I appreciated that many of the designer-specific booths were curated with great love and care. Here were some of my personal vintage standouts:   Many of the displays and presentations were curated intentionally, and it also felt like I was walking through a museum, just as much as it was a shopping experience.  There were soooo many racks of clothing - from coats and jackets that were to die for to the funkiest silk scarves and ties! Rows and rows of the cutest heels and shoes, straight from Carrie Bradshaw’s closet. I ultimately knew I would be window shopping for the most part, as oftentimes curated vintage markets tend to be on the expensive side. My rule is that if there is an item that I absolutely cannot leave on the rack and isn’t unreasonably pricey, I can buy it. However, for me, looking at the condition of the item and fabric composition to deduce whether the pricing is fair is important because I have learned that many vintage resellers often upsell poor-quality items.   Sometimes polyester can look cute…but don’t fall for it! There was one booth that had a huge crowd. Curious, I went over and the seller had oneof the most beautiful collections of vintage jewelry -- it was every IT girl’s dream . I was looking for accessories, specifically artisanal and handcrafted jewelry that will not tarnish over time. I was at this booth for almost 30 minutes just looking through all of the pieces; there was a section with just vintage watches and watch bracelets. I came across the most beautiful watch bracelet, which had silver hardware with colorful gem-like jewels forming a bracelet brand. It was definitely a statement piece and would have been a wonderful addition to my jewelry collection…but I couldn’t justify the price tag. But it’s okay!  Now I’m on the lookout for watch accessories (which wasn’t ever really on my radar before) — which is why I think window shopping at markets like this is important in gaining inspiration.  Overall, the WCC Vintage Market was a cool experience, and I don’t regret going. I bought two pieces of jewelry: a gold “T” initial necklace with silver jewels, a pastel jeweled gold bracelet, and a black, backless - off-the-shoulder top. Candidly speaking, the price points for many of the booths were on the higher end. For curated, high-quality vintage and handcrafted artisanal pieces, these prices are definitely justified.  But in my opinion, I draw the line when sellers attempt to sell lower-grade garments at insane prices in the name of Y2K. I saw a “baby tee” that was upsold at $40 when it was definitely intended for toddlers. With that being said, would I pay $80 for a polyester Y2K top? Absolutely not ! But I still walked away from the Wave Vintage Market feeling content, gained fashion inspiration, and a new wardrobe must-have: vintage watch bracelets.

Shoutout my Hindu girls since the acronym for this is giving divine spiritual cosmos. Unfortunately, we’re not meditating, we’re reflecting on our very first art show that we put on at the end of August! Special shoutout to Sam, our events lead on the Phoenix team. You never really understand how hard it is to organize an event until you have to do it yourself… and find the venue… find a curator… negotiate… come hours before the show to supervise the show installation…send out volunteer sign ups…juggle the artists, volunteers, and Club Rambutan members who need to talk to you during the show… and so on.  Only My Honesty Matters was a one night only exhibition at Casa Cala that featured 10 Arizona-based artists exploring fear in its rawest form through sculpture, embroidery, mixed media, drawing, etc. As for the why, in Phoenix, it’s easy for curators and spaces to fall back on what’s known, creating a one dimensional homogeneous art scene. However, familiarity breeds contempt — the people of Phoenix crave change more than they know. Of course, it’s never been about a lack of artists (look at how many people still flock to art school!), rather a lack of access and opportunity for emerging artists to showcase their work. It's crucial to create these opportunities for them. In fact, some may say that is likely one of the three pillars of Club Rambutan.  We searched far and wide for a curator and ended up with a Cohort 3 Alumni, Destiny Montoya, who had a background in curation. See what you could potentially do if you apply to be an artist for our next cohort? Club Rambutan supports our alumni cohort artists after their digital residency, as we look to invest in our community to learn from each other. We WILL continue to create these opportunities. Our artists WILL be supported. Growth mindset or bust.  A little note from Sam - For many of the artists featured in OMHM, it was the first time showing their art publically. These artists killed it and I am so honored they trusted us to put their work on display and Destiny’s curatorial vision. Seeing their work complement each other in the space was truly beautiful and inspiring. And now back to me! I bravely and courageously volunteered to work the front for the first hour of the event, so I can provide some real, raw, behind the scenes commentary. It was sunny and hot. I didn’t know what the artists looked like — have you ever noticed that artists never put their face on their Instagrams? Probably because they have better things to do — and tried to charge each one of them for entry until they awkwardly informed me they were in the show. My bad! Once my hour was up, suddenly the sun had set. Sometimes, life is unfair.  0.5 selfie: me volunteering when it was peak sunny. 1.0 photo: me next to Karl-William Klenk's dumb god , 2025. My personal favorite art piece was the one I was sitting by during my volunteer hour, which is just another example of how familiarity is the death of us all.  I spoke (instagram DM’d) with some of the artists from the show to get a little bit of background on their inspiration and process behind their piece(s).  Commentary from select artists* Presley. ruined , 2023 staples, sign paint, mixed media two-three,  2023 nails, mixed media, wood, resin something inseparable from my work is the influence and techniques developed by genesis p-orridge. their use of the cut-up in collage and sigilization is vital to my work. my work often takes form as ritual and magic. To the right: two-three,  2023. Julia Marciana Untitled , 2025 Graphite on Cotton March 2024. I was learning about prehistoric art and how people made art to mark their spiritual visions in my art history class when I drew a sketch of a girl in a desert with the sun setting and a feather. In the sketch, the girl is nude, crawling in the desert while the sun is setting on her and a feather is floating down. The feather represents freedom as it has fallen loose from a bird. The desert imagery embodies isolation, specifically the kind felt as a girl living in that type of landscape. At the time, I was feeling really stuck and in pain, so I encapsulated those feelings with the flat, pure line forms our ancestors were once drawing on their walls.  When Destiny asked me if I had any pieces that invoked fear, I said yes but I’ll need to make a new one. I took that original drawing, upped the scale to about 30” x 40”, and shifted the perspective — almost like changing the camera angle — so you would see the fear and despair on the woman’s face.  I used pencils to build the drawing up, then shaved some thick lead pieces down into shavings and mixed it with water for the ground part of the image. It took me about a month to finish. Not only was it my first full graphite piece but it was my first on such a large scale. The piece to me is about how being a woman is to be vulnerable in this world. Being vulnerable is powerful. I hope you get lost in it while your eyes move along from her face to her body to the dusty sun down to her cupped hand to the feather. Izzy Rosales When I Sleep, My Guardian Angel Steps Out,  2023 Ceramic, fabric, first, candles I was incredibly honored when Destiny reached out to me to showcase my piece “When I Sleep My Guardian Angel Steps Out”. I had shown this previously at my collective’s (omnisimul) first show a few years back where it was born from a place of immense loss and grief. When Destiny asked if I would be interested in showing it again, I said that I would love to recreate it to be more reflective of the time and feelings that have passed. Originally, there had been shards of stained glass in each of the bed posts. In this rendition, I carved notches out for candles instead. The viewing experience changed into one that was more interactive. Each time I changed the candles, I had the opportunity to speak with folks about the work and invite them to touch the piece. I teach ceramics to kids so I’m pretty desensitized to curious hands touching my work (lol). In fact, I encourage it because ceramics is such a tactile medium. The number one question I get asked about the piece is, “Is that [made out of] wood?”. It comes as a shock that mud can have such a transformative property but that’s exactly why I’m so drawn to it. *Commentary has been cut down for readability.  Artists and pieces not shown in this article can be found HERE .

If you’ve talked to a Zoomer lately, you’ve likely heard one of us declare our efforts to become more whimsical. Whimsy is the essence of curiosity and creativity that made the average childhood experience so self-reliantly amusing. It helped us enjoy the world and all it had to offer before the baggage of "real world" problems started to weigh us down. Ultimately, I've found that it is something that many young adults are hoping to reintegrate into their lives despite being more busier and tired (at least compared to the ones we led 10+ years ago). A few years ago, I felt depraved of whimsy. I recently saw this Thread (I know, nobody uses Threads) that summarizes how I feel most of the time. When you're someone as Type A as me and just have  to get shit done (or die trying), you need to operate on deadlines, timelines, and calendar invites - all of which are the exact antithesis of childlike wonder. For context, between 2023 and 2024, I finally faced the music of my post-grad blues:  I was not happy because I could no longer rely on the bubble of youth to serve me my social life, education, and passions all on a single silver platter. Yes, I acknowledge that I’m privileged to even have had those experiences as part of my reality, but that didn’t make the adjustment period any easier. Whether we like it or not, each of us are solely responsible for our own happiness and growth in this world. We’ve got to find a way to take advantage of the time AND ENERGY we have - even it feels like we never have enough of either of these things. So one day I decided to pump my schedule full of stuff that would force me to get out there socially and creatively, regardless if I had a buddy to face these new experiences with or not. And the more that I did this, I became emboldened to become someone who builds these opportunities for other people. I believe that this shift in mindset led to me to the idea for Club Rambutan. I became hungry to increase MY surface area of luck , and I wasn't going to wait for anyone else to feed me. Anyway, flash forward to now, in the great year of 2026 A.D., and my life is a lot more chaotic (in the best way). I recently started a new job (I switched from being in nonprofit for 3 years to an operations role at a start up a little under two weeks ago), am committed to making progress in my fitness journey, having a number of amazing relationships to grow, and I am of course still running Club Rambutan. I got exactly what I worked for. But regularly being at the mercy of whatever my Google Calendar says has worn me out a bit. And again, I don't mean to sound ungrateful for having to tend to these amazing things, but I realize now that I need to grant myself a little bit more flexibility and open ended opportunities to feel more grounded once again. So, although this sounds SUPER counterintuitive, my effort to become more whimsical is to do more . Specifically, more random and non-committal stuff. Enter: Craigslist. Hello, gig economy! Is the website sketchy looking? Sure. But if your sense of discernment is strong and you’re brave enough to look past the outdated user interface that practically hasn't been updated since the 2008 recession, you are bound to find a side quest that will expand your worldview. Don’t believe me? Here’s a brief timeline of my most recent gigs once I started treating CL like it was the morning paper.  August 2025: Brand Ambassador (Kali Uchis - $200) This was my first time truly delving into the world of CL. Around this time, I was looking for ways to offset the costs that went towards putting on The Pyres of Desire, which was Club Rambutan’s first-ever fashion show in September that year. Although CR has a separate bank account for all its expenses (which I think is worth mentioning that I’ve single-handedly built up over the last 2.5 years,  partially out of my own pocket before we started selling event tickets and merch), TPD was the most expensive event we’ve ever put on. I was worried that our expenses would be too much in the red, so that’s when I turned to CL in hopes for some quick cash.  I really lucked out when I applied to an extremely vague listing for a Brand Ambassador at Chase Center. On that very same night, I got a voicemail saying  I’d be working at Kali Uchis’s brand activation booth during her San Francisco show on the Sincerely, Tour , namely to sell body oil and butter from her lifestyle brand, Homebody by Uchis . At first I thought it was a scam! I was convinced that because they requested a picture of me in the initial application, they saw that I was a girl and made up a fake opportunity attached to a popular female celebrity in order to lure me somewhere and traffic me. I even tried searching up the name of my CL contact who was ~allegedly~ working with an event staffing agency, and even though no solid results turned up, I still trusted my gut and showed up to where they told me to go anyway. And lo and behold, it was the most fun 5 hour shift I’ve worked in a while (and I had just come from my actual job!).  Additional Perks:  Going backstage during Kali Uchis’ set, free makeup and clothes from the brand, and being complimented by many lovely women while working the activation. I ended up using this money to reserve a private room at a local bar in Oakland for the TPD after party. October 2025: Earring Model (Yellow Owl Workshop - $200) At this point, I had fully caught the CL bug and the only remedy was to secure another cool gig. Transparently, between the Uchis gig and YOW, I learned that it was crucial to be consistent in checking Craigslist (basically on a daily basis). People in the Bay Area STAY posting on CL and so there’s usually always a new flow of opportunities that are posted (but consequently are quickly claimed).  At Yellow Owl Workshop, I sat in a very roomy photo studio for 4 morning-time hours in the Mission District (before I went to my actual job) and hung out with a very hip, very cool millennial photographer and product manager (shoutout Aya and Eric!). You can see my right ear modeling a variety of enamel earrings on their website today , although my lobe was definitely sore after wearing 30+ pairs. Additional Perks:  Free lunch, free merch (I got a cute printed reusable grocery bag that can hold up to 40 lb), cute dog to entertain me, and two (2) free vintage tin type portraits of myself (courtesy of Eric and his vintage large-format camera and dope red room set up!) December 2025 - February 2026: Research Participant (Misc. Companies - on avg. $25/hour) Over these last few winter months, I’ve committed to more boring gigs as a research participant. I found that if I don’t have an immediate goal to spend a couple hundred bucks on, I’m less inclined to get out there because there isn’t a pressing need to make money. However, I did decide to book a last ish-minute trip to do my first ever solo vacation in Vienna and Copenhagen, so these gigs have been coming in clutch. For this purpose, I’ve gamified Craigslist; I’ve already paid for my plane tickets and other related accommodations, so I track how much everything costs and try to treat these gigs as a way to “discount” the overall price of everything by making as much of that money back. The main gigs I did were: Talking to a computer for 2 hours by typing in a dark cubicle with a heavy spiky helmet strapped to my head (I can participate up to 10 times, and I’ve completed this 6 times already and always between 7:30 and 9:30 AM) Reading  (sometimes aloud, sometimes silently) a very boring series of passages on a screen while wearing headphones even though nothing ever plays on them  (I can do this unlimited amount of times; I’ve completed this twice because the research facility is far from my apartment) Go to a rental house in Mission Bay and walk into different rooms doing miscellaneous actions while wearing a vest of wires for 30 minutes (this was a fun one; I got a $150 giftcard of my choice in exchange for my time)  I should mention that these RP gigs are usually offered at different time frames throughout the day, so I would choose the early morning slots before I went into my actual job. Am I crazy? I’d rather use the word “dedicated”. Some of them also let me choose how many hours I wanted to participate, usually from 1 to 4 hours at a time.  Now, I will admit that money was definitely an incentive for me to get out there and do these things. However, I also chose to see these as silly opportunities to lean into the unknown and sometimes LARP with strangers (main example: I’d ask to be addressed as “Angela”, which is my second name, instead of my first name that I’ve always gone by). For me that felt extremely whimsical.  Unfortunately, I foresee my CL adventures being put on pause for the time being (I got a new job so yay! But also boooooo), but I could not recommend this website enough for people who are dying to try something new. So if any of this resonated with you, I wish you the best on your journey [back] to whimsy – I’m confident that you’ll achieve it!

“Creativity is not just about writing novels, or composing a piece of music. Creativity means to revolt  against injustice. The revolution against injustice needs creativity. Without creativity we cannot revolt.  Creativity means a way of life, a philosophy in life. In your relationships: even in love relationships, you need creativity; in friendships, you need creativity; in any human work or endeavor, you need creativity. And creativity is not just something coming from heaven to fuel genius people. No, we are all creative. Everybody in this hall was born creative…Men and women, poor and rich, Black and white, Swedish or Egyptian, we are all born creative.” - Nawal El Saadawi, “Creativity, Women, Dissidence” at Clandestinofestival Press If you’ve been keeping up with Club Rambutan at all, you might have seen promotion for our event ICEBREAKERZ, and our declarative statement: “ Art is political. ” This may seem like the first time CR has declared an outwardly political stance, but to me and those on our team, art has always  been inherently political, and creation has always been inherently revolutionary.  It’s been hard not to feel despondent recently. In an expanding landscape of AI slop, goonmaxxing , ragebait, and real-world violence, the widening gyre of capitalist hellscape and despair is seemingly unending. I had a conversation with a friend recently and it spanned, as it often does, from the ongoings and discontents of our personal lives to our agitation with the world and politics. We spoke about our issues with the new Wuthering Heights  (2026) movie and somehow got to the topic of Ursula K. LeGuin’s short story “ The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas, ” and an agreement that revolution requires imagination.  Our conversation reminded me of a class I took briefly at UC Davis that focused solely on utopian fiction. It was fascinating.  I read fiction voraciously growing up when I think many of us did, during the wave of Young Adult dystopian fiction that would shape our childhoods— The Hunger Games, Divergent, The Maze Runner, etc. Dystopian fiction has been generally well received in pop culture for a plethora of reasons. Aside from proving itself as a highly profitable genre, it can more directly and cathartically mirror the risks, injustices, and dangers of pre-existing society. It is imaginative in the way of warning, speculative in ways that validate existing fear, and builds potential atrocities upon historical events. Margaret Atwood, when criticized on the violent events of The Handmaid’s Tale,  famously said that she never wrote or included violence that did not already happen to women in history around the world. And given the current state of politics, people have been pointing to dystopian fiction now more than ever (and I’m glad that they are). There have been TikTok montages of The Hunger Games’   Capitol transposed against last year’s Met Gala , especially in contrast with the broadening class disparity,   current unaffordability crisis , and genocide in Gaza . There were also Instagram posts with quotes from George Orwell’s 1984 regarding rhetoric and propaganda in the wake of media denial and demonization surrounding the deaths of Renee Good, Alex Pretti, Keith Porter Jr., as well as other victims of ICE: “The party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.” We heed the warnings of dystopian fiction because they mirror fear and injustice we’ve probably already seen, felt, or experienced. Even the insane popularity of Wicked  and Wicked: For Good  highlights the power of propaganda and rhetoric to mobilize fear of otherness into hatred and vitriol (and I could write a separate article about that). But within structures that are already unjust, utopian societies are not something we often consider. They are unreachable, unattainable, unrealistic, and ‘unproductive’ to imagine. They feel so impossibly out of reach because We all know that Hannah Montana taught us that “Nobody’s Perfect!” Idealism is more difficult than cynicism in a world where unjust suffering and tragedy exists, and  Achieving perfection is truly impossible. But that utopian fiction class taught me something important: if all these conditions are true, why would anyone write or try to conceptualize a utopia? If we were solely thinking logically, why waste all that time for something that can never be possible?  Don’t those questions point us directly to the problem? We’ve been conditioned by capitalism to consider things that don’t produce a “useful” (useful meaning profitable) “output” as unproductive, and therefore a waste of resources. More importantly, we are stopping ourselves before even allowing our minds to dream of what an ideal, perfect, or utopian society could be like . Regardless of whether or not it’s actually ever possible to achieve, there is a structure of violence that imposes itself in our own minds  before we even let ourselves imagine  an alternative. We don’t even consider letting our minds wander at the possibility . That’s what has built our cynicism, accumulated our hopelessness. If we are convinced that nothing can ever change, or (oh god) (my least favorite sentence ever) ‘that’s just the way the world is,’ then there is no mobility , there is no action that can be taken except to succumb to our fear and despair. Without our ability to conceptualize a better reality, we are forced to accept the one imposed upon us. The goal is not perfection, or utopia. It is about having the wherewithal and the strength  to be creative and imaginative . The courage to imagine a different reality. We cannot let cynicism stunt our desire for growth and social change. That’s why I believe that imagination is necessary for revolution , and that creativity is already inherently a radical act. Why, as the writer and activist El Saadawi says, “Without creativity, we cannot revolt.” Art has always historically been linked to political and social justice movements, used and created for organizing, protest and solidarity. It has always been a tool to speak up and against injustice, violence, and tragedy. It has always served as both a weapon and object of comfort, as a tool for anger and joy, as a method of both mobilization and celebration. If you need examples, you don’t have to look very far at all— the Harlem Renaissance, the birth of Jazz and Blues, the use of screenprints in the Chicano Movement, just to name a few. Not to mention that art and any mode of creation  is inherently radical in a landscape of consumerism and capitalism. Creation is a natural antithesis to consumption. As creatives, (whatever that means for you), we can take radical frameworks by their horns because we’re already seated atop the bull. We exist in positions that already place us outside of mainstream conveniences, careers, and frameworks. As a fiber artist, I’ve been personally touched and inspired by the wave of knitters and crocheters who have organized to knit the “Melt the ICE” hat as of January 2026, a pattern  designed and sold by a local yarn store in Minneapolis, Minnesota. The proceeds from the $5 pattern  are donated to organizations that aid immigrants in Minnesota, and the design itself—a pointed red hat with a tassel—is meant to mirror the red knitted hats made and worn by Norwegians as a form of revolt against the occupation of Nazi Germany. Norwegians were then historically persecuted for wearing, making, or distributing this hat , and now in 2026, knitters all over the world are knitting it to show solidarity with those affected and unjustly victimized by the gestapo-like methods of U.S. ICE agents and an increasingly fascist government. As we know, a red hat these days can often be seen as a symbol of hatred, but the resurgence of these hats attempt to show how symbols can and have always been reclaimed and used to resist and honor historical resistance. We have an inherent appreciation for beauty in the arts because of the nature of art--it explores our collective humanity through expression, shared perspectives and empathy. We, through choice, career, identification, or pure feeling are aligned at the margins of “normal” or “logically productive” society, placing us at the fringes in which we can observe, interpret, and express our world. To interpret our “epoch’s special pulse-beat,” as E.E. Cummings put it. Thus to be an artist is inherently radical and revolutionary! If we lived under a different sociopolitical system, maybe it would not be. But for the conditions of our reality, it’s already what we are. And some would say it is our responsibility to be... Toni Morrison writes in her essay for The Nation  (2004)  about the role of the artist in times of political distress, and it was both empowering and comforting for how I’ve been feeling in the wake of the news recently: “Christmas, the day after, in 2004, following the presidential re-election of George W. Bush. I am staring out of the window in an extremely dark mood, feeling helpless. Then a friend, a fellow artist, calls to wish me happy holidays. He asks, “How are you?” And instead of “Oh, fine–and you?”, I blurt out the truth: “Not well. Not only am I depressed, I can’t seem to work, to write; it’s as though I am paralyzed, unable to write anything more in the novel I’ve begun. I’ve never felt this way before, but the election…” I am about to explain with further detail when he interrupts, shouting: “ No! No, no, no! This is precisely the time when artists go to work– not when everything is fine, but in times of dread. That’s our job! ” I felt foolish the rest of the morning, especially when I recalled the artists who had done their work in gulags, prison cells, hospital beds; who did their work while hounded, exiled, reviled, pilloried. And those who were executed… This is precisely the time when artists go to work. There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal.  I know the world is bruised and bleeding, and though it is important not to ignore its pain, it is also critical to refuse to succumb to its malevolence. Like failure, chaos contains information that can lead to knowledge–even wisdom. Like art.” I’ve been repeating these quotes to myself, and I hope you might too. I hope you embolden yourself to dream, to imagine, to create, to speak out, to revolt. To be radical in your existence as it already is.  The CR team at ICEBREAKERZ <33

We all need to struggle a little bit more — and I’m saying this as a holier-than-thou girl who refuses to Doordash food on principle. I bring convenience into my life in other ways though (hypocrite again!); I google every question or problem that comes to mind; I check Yelp to see the menu and reviews before going somewhere to eat. My personal issue is with new experiences because I can’t know everything beforehand. How boring!  In a recent interview, Olympic gold medalist Alysa Liu said, “I love struggling, actually. It makes me feel alive.” I am fairly certain a whole generation of kids were genuinely changed by that statement. Sometimes you have to jump and not know if you’ll make it to the other side. That’s how I found myself spending $$$ to try something I’d wanted to do for years, but never could convince myself to go through with it. When I was younger, my jewelry always came from my mother, in gold hoops and an angel pendant necklace. Too bad gold looks terrible on me! At this point in my mid-twenties, I’ve amassed quite a silver collection, rings to fit every finger except those cursed pinkies. The only rings that have ever fit those are the shit ones from Claire’s, meant for a daring seven year old.  I’ve entertained thoughts of learning how to make jewelry for years, as I’m sure many an alternative girl has. There’s something so respectable and hardworking and so salt-of-the-earth about making something yourself. When you receive a compliment and you can say, “Oh thanks, I made it!” — now that’s an indescribable rush. I imagine it’s similar to how your local EDM DJ feels when one of his songs is used at a large festival.  But pulling the trigger on the actual learning is a different story. It’s horribly expensive to have a cool and interesting hobby, yet so amazing to fantasize.  It’s funny, really, my jewelry teacher  started working in silversmithing as a blue collar trade that he initially learned in high school (he is very old). Now every week he’s teaching a gaggle of middle aged women and me, how to hammer a cuff and put together a basic ring.  Ok so do you guys want to see what I made or what… We started out making cuffs with copper to learn the basics. Basically hammering 101. My teacher told me I seemed like I “bite off more than I can chew” with projects I was taking on. To be fair to him, that day I spent hours stamping a copper bangle until my wrists were shaking. I would show you my other cuff, but it got commandeered by a friend. [Omg I found my teacher’s IG so here  is a photo. I’m the pretentious one with the Oura ring. Soldering 101. The creation of a ring unsurprisingly combines all of the little things you learned along the way into a much more difficult task. Plus, now you’re likely using expensive silver. Stressful yet liberating!  Ring 1: Fire agate and silver Ring 2: turquoise and silver. [unfinished bezel eyes] Unfinished Twin Bezel Eyes: Charoite and silver. My gag down, my purple flower opus.  My teacher was right, of course. I took on too much with these matching purple rings, but it was so worth it. Am I going to take another multi week class to finish them and start another ridiculous project? Of course. Don’t think silly questions to yourself like that. But in case you’re wondering, here’s more info about my silversmithing class! FAQs How much did my class cost?  In Phoenix, it was around $250 for 7 classes, and once you hit ring making, you needed to buy the stones and the silver, if you so wished. It is not so awesome that silver chose to skyrocket right around when I chose to take the class. To others in larger cities, I have bad news. It is more expensive near you.  Why should I do this? I’m telling you, I get there at 6 PM, toil away with the hammers and torches and solder and my life slows down. The hours inch by when working with your hands. I’ve heard that a trick to extending your perceived lifetime is to shake up your routine and do something new.  Who should I learn from? Do not take those "make a ring in one session" classes. Those are not jewelry experts! That is a college student who took this as a side job and now has a concept of how to make a ring. Find the old guys who used to work in jewelry sweatshops.  My teacher was definitely one of those. He had stories, like how his ex-wife’s brother was part of the Iranian Shah’s council and somehow escaped in the 70s when the current government (may the Supreme Leader rest in pieces x) had their brutal takeover moment. Not really related to jewelry making besides the fact that his ex brother-in-law used to send him enormous amounts of Persian turquoise and lapis lazuli. #Score! #FreeIran! Even if you aren’t interested in jewelry making, I can recommend nothing more than trying something out of your typical day-to-day where you create instead of consume. Put those hands to work!

As the days get shorter and the nights become longer, the sizzling Phoenix heat is cooling off just in time for spooky activities to sprout in place. As an art school graduate, I am always on the lookout for one-off art classes (bonus points if they’re not over $60). I’ve taken a few across the valley, but I wanted to check back on one of my favorite Phoenix-based organizations, thems . , if they were hosting any sessions this month. thems. is a queer-led non-profit that collaborates with local artists, organizations and companies to host creative workshops and queer-focused events. They regularly host gatherings such as Fruity Poetry Night (a monthly open mic aiming to amplify LGBTQIA+ voices), writing labs, printmaking workshops, figure drawing classes and photo exhibitions. These events range from free to ticketed both at the door and on their site, making thems. accessible for all! This October, I attended my second thems. their figure drawing class at Afternoon Studios . I went to my first earlier this summer in May, which I loved. The class is meant for all skill levels, 18+, any and all materials welcomed, with minimal supplies available. I only brought my 9” x 12” sketchbook, ballpoint pens, and a few graphite and colored pencils. The atmosphere was so incredibly friendly, with neighboring participants welcoming me to borrow their supplies (this lovely woman next to me shared with me her selection of pastels). Though I had taken figure drawing classes in college, I’m pretty rusty. The host, Three Hearts Club, had started the workshop by giving some pointers on how to execute gesture drawings and capture a live model on paper. The poses started from quick 10-15 second gesture drawings, which gradually increased to the final pose lasting 35 minutes. I love affordable classes as much as the next person, but what keeps this workshop above the rest is how light-hearted and warm the fellow artists, hosts and models are. The majority of the class are also solo attendees, which can be especially daunting if you aren’t completely confident in your current artistic abilities. But everyone there is open to striking up conversations with whomever, sharing their supplies and showing one another their drawings. Leaving each workshop, I'm motivated to continue drawing and to generally create more in my daily life. I feel so much more comfortable and confident in my artistic abilities, so I look forward to definitely returning on a more regular basis.

An interview with Maya Johnson Maya : Can you explain to me the concept of your project and what you intend the final product to be?  Eamon : My project is centered around the fear of self-disconnect, where there's a different version of me that people see that I don't think is me. I stand by the phrase, “The person in the mirror is not really you.”   I've been focusing on that and the painting is a compilation of different images of certain elements of my past layered on top of each other. I'm a very obsessive painter with rendering and detailing. One of the most important parts of this painting is not so much the image itself, but rather the process. And I think the process of painting is one of the most efficient methods I have to co-existing and confronting that fear. The whole purpose of the painting is to figure out why I feel this self-disconnect and how I can understand that through the process of painting.  Untitled , 2025. M : When I was reading your journal, which sounds inappropriate to say out loud, I saw you wrote down self-confrontation, as if it's something you fear. Is that what you mean by the self-disconnect? E : Self-confrontation was the ulterior goal of the painting where I originally wanted to make an image that was a portrait confronting myself, but I felt that was too literal for my taste. When I was searching through materials to use for the painting, I saw all these images of my studio and revisited my old home recently. I was looking for past sentiments and then focused on that for the imagery. Eamon's Inspiration Fig 1. Self-portrait diptych from November 2023. Fig 2. A still from Ikebukuro West Gate Park (IWGP). Fig 3. Bulldog Hall @ ASU at night. Fig 4. A still life of Eamon's desk setup. M : Issue four centered on the theme of fear. How is it getting personal for you? Do you think fear drives you forward? Do you think it holds you back?  E : With this painting, I want to first and foremost express how I truly feel, and also try to find out if anyone else can relate to it through my personal images. It's a weird gray area where I’m trying to find commonality even though this is very personal to me. It does drive me forward. This painting has helped me develop an awareness about how to approach certain things in life. Having that fear is the first step to conquering it, obviously. So it definitely is a big motivator. WIP of Untitled , 2025. M : What were you most afraid of as a kid? Any irrational fears? Where do you think they come from? E : My biggest fear as a kid was probably remaining out of place, which I think is pretty much the groundwork for the self-disconnect. The root cause is I kept moving around, I was in Phoenix and Scottsdale my whole life, but kept shifting around to different districts, and then I never felt like I belonged. That sense of not belonging manifested into self-disconnect, because it's like,   Where have I actually been? Who am I really? It's just a snowball effect of I don't belong here, therefore, do I belong to myself? I was also very afraid of dogs. ( M : Really? So was my brother.) When I was two, the first dog I saw was taller than me. So I was like, “What is this thing?” It wasn't until fourth grade where I realized, okay, dogs are cool. M : When you say fear comes from not understanding, let’s go back to your fear being self-confrontation and self-disconnect. How have you come to understand yourself more through this process?  E : I painted a little bit throughout my childhood, but it wasn't until like two years ago until I focused on painting because I was mainly focused on just drawing and like digital works. The process of painting has helped me understand myself and how I approach things. I'm always in such a hurry. I have no idea why. Maybe because I grew up with the big pressure of school and career and stuff. Once I graduated, it all suddenly mellowed out and now I'm running for no reason. M : When you're approaching a painting process, a project, something that's physical. It's no take backsies, right? ( E : Right.) Do you prefer the physical medium over digital? Are you more analytical or methodical with the process? E : Yes, I do. It's the most efficient way of telling my story. It's not so much about the gratification of it, but with the physical medium you're so much more involved with it. You're getting more involved with the materials. The physical painting process is better because of how intimate it is. And you can do a lot more than just painting. I did a process called image transferring, where I printed out certain pictures and I plastered it on my canvas. The more I delve into the process, that's when the analytical phase keeps going up, the more the painting progresses. Once you get into all the details and the image starts to form, I realize, wait, I have to think about what I'm actually doing here. I have to lock in. M : Do you think fear starts with discomfort, and if so, when do you think discomfort evolves into fear? E : Discomfort is more so the byproduct of fear. My philosophy of fear is that it comes from just not understanding something. You probably beat yourself up for not knowing what “it” is or not knowing how to understand it. When people don't take initiative to try to understand what they fear the most, that's where the discomfort kicks in. It's pretty much like a snowball effect from there. There's this triangle between discomfort, fear, and ignorance, you know?  M : Is there anything that you found out about yourself through this exploration of fear that's kind of surprised you?  E : Surprised me? I don't know. I'm so locked into the painting where it’s hard to feel shocked about what's happening. I'm just letting it happen and seeing if I really resonate with it or not. In the back of my mind, the exact details of it are there, but I never drafted it out or manifested it until now. M :Is there anything that people should know before viewing your work? Any context that would help shape their viewing experience?  E : I want to make a painting that's so rendered out that all the clues are there. I was thinking about writing a mini piece to accompany the painting, but haven't really gotten an initiative on that yet. More so a very dramatic version of what's in my journal. It’s dramatic in the least weird way possible because that was my 2am post-grad crash out. So no context needed, I'll be there. I'll be there with the painting. Just look. People can talk to me. M : Did you just graduate? Are you in the midst of a bit of an identity crisis then?  Eamon Win graduating, 2025. E : Yes, three or four weeks ago. Not so much identity, but more so, alright, what's going on here? I feel like it's a time crisis. It's very, very intense. It's all about time. That's another thing involved with this piece is time, because I have a lot of stuff from the past in there. How do I become more efficient with the brutal process of time? Obviously time goes fast, time goes slow. How can I keep up with it? Is time even real? It's not!   That's one of the realizations I had over vacation. I was like, wow, time is not real. I just have to keep living through the motions, through the process. Learn to live in the present. M : Have you ever felt like you've belonged somewhere?  E : Yeah, the studio with my paintings. I've met people along the way that felt the same way. They manifest the same issues through painting and drawing. I'm very grateful for that and to have met them.

The new year is a special time. A marker for new beginnings, the perfect time to try new hobbies, reset routines and visualize personal goals for the upcoming year. It is the afterparty of the holiday season, except instead of indulging in substances, “dry January” is the move and the gym has replaced the club. But this year, it has been especially hard to maintain the positive vibes when there is so much noise  going on. From increasingly dystopian and harmful policies to the relentless violence against marginalized groups at the hands of ICE and the state, every single day  feels   like impending doom.    Social media no longer feels like a place to see what your friends are up to or catch up on your interests. It has become a space of uncensored news (primary sources) and a cesspool of unwanted marketing. With every scroll, the videos get heavier than the last and I just know there is irreversible damage being done to our brains. It is not normal to watch a “get ready with me” video, graphic footage of ICE raids, and then a local food review, all within the span of a few seconds. And I know this is by design, they (you know who I am referring to ) are betting on us ( the people ) to be emotionally exhausted from all of this and concede obediently .   My first read of this year is by political journalist and writer Sarah Jaffe,  From the Ashes . It is a brilliant piece of writing that has helped me navigate this feeling of helplessness, and to understand the importance of collective grief. It is essential to ruminate in your feelings and allow yourself to grieve in a world on fire.  “ Grief is a rupture. It makes unthinkable the future that you thought you would have. Rebellion is a rupture too, one where a collection of people come together to say, to demand, to insist that the past future is no longer one they will accept.”  I loved how Jaffe talked about grief in the book. She explained that under capitalism, grief is actively discouraged because processing it takes time away from productivity. American society is heavily centered around work culture and productivity. The use of PTO is something that is highly frowned upon, despite it being in place for a reason — especially during seasons of loss. When it is treated as an inconvenience rather than a necessity, burnout is inevitable.  “The ordinary death of a loved one under a capitalist order that routinely forbids sufficient time off to mourn. Workplace injuries, deindustrialization, police violence, pandemic, genocide, social murder, and how we can make sense of loss through struggle.” Collective and public mourning under capitalism builds community and purpose in organizing. Grief is the catalyst to direct action and change. It is the very reason there are so many people in the streets, shouting from the rooftops (both metaphorically and literally), who are brave enough to be on the frontlines.  “It is a movement full of pain and humor. Of joy and terror. Of grief and all stages of grieving”  If you are like me, someone who has been feeling a deep sense of sorrow and helplessness, but most of all, anger, we need to hold onto it. These feelings are the catalysts to change, it drives action behind our disdain for what is happening in our own cities.            It is equally as important to take the space and time to take care of yourself. Put your phone down, nourish your body with whole foods, pamper yourself, journal your feelings, watch a comfort movie or go see a friend. If you want to take care of your community, you need to take care of yourself first. Joy is political resistance in itself just as much as grief.  Yesterday, I joined the nationwide strike  and turned my anger into action. The walkout was organized on the one year anniversary of President Trump's inauguration on 1/30/26, it was to protest the actions of the Trump administration but more specifically, regarding the rampant, inhumane ICE raids sweeping the nation. There were more than 130 demonstrations across the country and it was inspiring to see how many people had organized their own walkouts in their cities. In the streets of San Francisco, I met so many community members, feeling the same way I did. I listened. I danced. I laughed. I marched. I used my voice. It was incredibly inspiring to see everyone show up. A couple thousand regular people were gathered at Dolores Park because of grief . We were all there because of collective grief yet I witnessed so much joy . The live music that was played. Seeing people of all ages dancing together. The free hot meals and fruits brought to share. It was a #hopecore moment for me.  photos taken from SF Standard via Instagram How will you use your grief?

I’ve been thinking a lot about how every form of art is, in essence, language. Almost every medium I can think of (music, photography, poetry, fine art, sculpture…) can be understood somewhat, at its core, as a language to communicate, connect, evoke, or resonate. If art is the medium through which outward expression of internality is possible, every medium is a voice, a language. We experience this in different ways: how two melodies create a conversation; how a black-and-white shadow touches on our longing; how a jazz standard sounds like a perfect morning; how a painting speaks without speaking. If expression is a keystone of art, with a voice going outward from something within, there must always also be an ear to receive it. That might be one of the essences of language: an expression of phenomena (observable or otherwise) articulated through a medium constituted to be understandable for communication. Often, we strive to live out our creativity as modes of expression, as tools we use to make our truer selves clear and visible. We want to express some deeper nuance of our being, our thoughts, our ideas, our values. This does not make creation for the sake of creation any less meaningful, or expression for the sake of ourselves less important. But it’s easy to remember how our desire for expression sometimes stems from a desire to be seen or heard, understood or valued, or to create something that helps someone else feel less alone. We create not necessarily for people we desire validation from, but even for the dotted outline of a person we will never be able to meet. Communication through language is a tool for connection. Communication through art is a tool for connection. Is understanding possible without a shared language? If a speaker had no listener, would connection be possible at all?  As I’ve recently joined Club Rambutan’s newsletter team–(hi!) I promise I’m not always this ruminative, except when I am :) – I’ve been reflecting on my understandings of language, medium, and what it means to build creative community. I’ve also been going to a LOT of Open Mics, pushing myself to speak at as many as I can, as a form of excruciating exposure therapy.  Sitting at the Crocker Museum in Sacramento on a Thursday night, attending my second Open Mic of the week, I was struck, as always, at how powerful the space of an Open Mic can be. There are seldom other places that provide a stage and a voice for people who may otherwise feel voiceless, with no barrier to entry besides signing their name on a list. I’ve always thought that to be a rare and powerful thing. To be able to be a person of any background, of any history, suddenly in front of an attentive crowd. Where else is there a culture of community so welcoming as that of poets at an Open Mic? Where else is there such a celebration of voice?  Chio Saeturn reading her original poetry at the Crocker Museum. For some reason, the power of these facts struck me differently this time. All of those things were still true, and the silhouette of a microphone open to anyone was still powerful–but I noticed looking around me, that what was powerful in equal or greater measure was the willingness of every ear in the room being and remaining open to everything and anything the person behind the mic had to say. These spaces of listening felt rarer and more special to me in that moment than the spaces of speaking . The power of the listening did not feel inferior as it so often can, to that of the speaking; the power of the audience was not different from that of the artist. I remembered then that spaces like these require a rare level of empathy and acceptance. Upon entering, there is a shared, unspoken agreement to provide a space of listening regardless of who or what stands behind the microphone and reverberates outward. And through this agreement, sometimes there are moments of communal, inaudible confusion; moments where a hushed silence befalls contracting hearts; and moments of hollering, foot-stomping laughter. There are always snaps and claps, by necessity. The beauty of a shared agreement like this reminded me of the beauty of art as a connective tissue, as a language for connection. I felt as though the space of listening silently spoke these truths the loudest: that everyone is valued, deserves to speak, and deserves to be heard.  The listening crowd. The event was hosted at the Crocker Museum by the Sacramento Poetry Center in collaboration with Sac Poets founder Chio Saeturn , featuring Sacramento Poet Laureate Emeritus Andru Defeye and legendary local poet Traci Gourdine . It was hosted in part to celebrate the release of the 916ink anthology “Drop a Pen, ” a collection aiming to amplify voices of historically marginalized communities in Sacramento through authentic contributions and representation from these neighborhoods. The event also had booths with art from local independent artist-poets, where they sold handmade zines and prints. Zine by Reese Moon and prints by Jordan Gaona-Wilson + a free pass to the Crocker! I think as a creative, it’s so easy to get lost in our heads and the spiral of our own self-perceptions. I think that’s where community helps so much. Despite my fear, intimidation, and constant impostor syndrome, I went up to Andru after the event, and he gave me a memento with an original quote of his on it. I looked down at the rectangular black sticker in my palm with the words in bright white: “you are enough for the stars to shoot about.” I asked Andru what he would say to other young creatives looking to build community and grow in their passions, to which he responded: “Building community requires a baseline of everyone feeling safe. When creating community spaces, always consider not only physical, but mental and emotional safety. This is where codes of conduct can help create and anchor the culture of spaces to support true community building. Real leaders lead from the back, not the front. The leader has to be the one that keeps everyone’s best interests in mind and not just their own. It’s not always an easy role, but it’s crucial in true community building.” “If you want to grow in your passions, just keep doing them and growth is inevitable. I also think a major key is to define your own success as an artist. The creative industries will tell you what success is if you let them. And they’ll have you feeling all kinds of ways holding yourself up to those definitions .” Andru Defeye reading a Community Code of Conduct for Open Mics, and poems from his time as Sacramento Poet Laureate & community organizer. I am lucky to have been able to speak to both Andru and Chio, as well as begin to get to know them through local arts and poetry events. Not only are they incredible poets, they also display a deep willingness to listen and be present for others. They embody such a palpable passion for uplifting young voices and the existence of everyone around them. At the beginning of the event, Andru touched on the culture of snapping and mirroring in slam poetry circles: “it means ‘I hear you,’ it mirrors ‘I’m with you,’  it says ‘I feel that,’; you can say ‘Amen’ like you’re at church.” To me, nothing else but the snap, the stomps, and the mmhs can quite capture that specific culture of listening, mirroring, and being present for one another. But I deeply believe it shares the core of all of our approaches and responses to art when apprehended by its power. Art as language, language as art: we all create spaces of speaking and listening, regardless of medium. Me, Chio and our friend Hazel after the event. Traci Gourdine’s poetry and stories have been published in numerous literary magazines, and she is currently a professor at American River College. Andru Defeye’s new book Unlocked has just been released and is available for purchase now. You can find Chio and Sac Poets holding weekly workshops, classes and events that are open to all. Both Andru and Chio are active community organizers in the Sacramento poetry scene and have readings forthcoming. Sacramento Poetry Center is wrapping up its Poetry Month celebration and has a plethora of upcoming events , in addition to its weekly Open Mic.

Soooo I classify myself as an “expert comfort watcher.” It’s in my Letterboxd bio and everything. Cinephile is a big word, but do I love film? Yes, undoubtedly. So terribly much. I grew up constantly surrounded by films, and the cinema will always be a magical place for me (heyy Nicole Kidman…). But I have this weird thing where I’m scared to watch new movies. Sometimes I call it my “big movie fear.” Stories have had such a large impact on my life, and have essentially raised me, forming my morals and ethics…so when I sit down to watch a new movie I have a feeling I’d love? I get scared. I get scared of the journey that awaits me, because I know how powerful this medium is, and how much it impacts me emotionally. I guess you could call it the love of the game? So I comfort watch, quite a lot. But I feel like sometimes comfort watching gets a bad rap. Yes, I understand the argument that there’s so much more art out there to experience. I feel hungry and overwhelmed by wanting to consume all of it , all the time . Why spend your time “comfort watching”? You’re preventing yourself from experiencing new ideas, new inspirations… I get it. TRUST ME, I get it. You don’t need to tell me how many cult classic films I NEED to watch that I haven’t.  For a while, I think this feeling instilled a lot of shame in me. Somewhere along the way, I started shaming myself for watching the same movies from my childhood over and over again as an adult. But that didn’t lead me to watch more new movies, just fewer movies overall.  But I used to rewatch the SAME movies with my sister every single day after getting back home from school. My biggest flex used to be that I could recite the entire first Harry Potter film and probably most of the others (I still can, but it’s a shame J.K. Rowling is simply a massive transphobe ). I can also recite almost the entire second A Cinderella Story with young Selena Gomez (MAARYYY BUBBLES NOW!), and reenact the iconic one-sided mirror choreography she does with Drew Seeley (heavy breathing and all).  I still find myself craving (many) reruns of all the classic Barbie animated films, of which my favorites were Barbie and the 12 Dancing Princesses, Swan Lake, Princess Charm School, Diamond Castle, Fairytopia (all of them), Mariposa– the list goes on. I did a rewatch of A Fairy Secret and both Mermaid Tale s with my friends on a trip recently, and it brought me so much joy. Some comfort TV watches for me are Gossip Girl, The Vampire Diaries, Pretty Little Liars, Downton Abbey, and BBC’s Merlin. And I think like many of us, one of my most formative reading eras was the age of the dystopian young adult novel! I kid you not–I probably rewatch all The Hunger Games films at least once or twice a year, as well as Divergent, The Twilight Saga, and many of the others. But if I take a deeper look into why I rewatch these movies so often, it comes from a few simple truths. Besides the fact that these books–these stories–kept me company when I was lonely, and instilled some of the greatest morals and values I still hold today, these stories just bring me back to that place: childhood. Rewatching The Hunger Games brings me back to 5th grade, when I voraciously read all 3 books within 4/5 days. Watching Divergent takes me back to its premiere in theaters–I was closing out 6th grade with my friend, hearing Ellie Goulding blare out the end-credits song and exiting the theater feeling dauntless. Every childhood Christmas or New Years was cozily spent watching Harry Potter and fireworks with my sisters. My sister and I would sit down and rewatch a movie almost every single day after getting back from school. We just would. And we didn’t feel any shame about it.  To me, that’s the hidden power of comfort watching. It reminds you of the inner child within. It really is like therapy for your younger self, allowing the joy of indulging in comfort for the sake of it – transporting you to a time where you didn’t have reason yet to feel shame about what you liked, what you disliked, how you spent your time, or your day. Before you were saddled with responsibility, or before you underwent formative trauma, or before you experienced the pieces of media or art helped you through those moments. It’s a recognition of self, of our purest child self that we carry with us everywhere. That we are still those children, and those children are still us. We still make decisions based on that little kid’s desires all the time. And sometimes we should!  We really should!! Why are we holding ourselves back from joy ? Why do we feel less deserving of indulgence, or fun? Why are we postponing our own happiness? Why do we feel bad for leaning into the things that brought us joy as children, or the things that bring us childlike joy now? And it doesn’t have to take the form of comfort watching, but I think it’s worthwhile to follow your intuition to do anything that helps you remember the child you once were–and still are. We are all the ages we’ve ever been, and comfort doesn’t have to be harder to come by just because we’re older. As adults, we have narratives constantly coming from every direction telling us who we should be, what we should be doing, and how we should be spending our time. But we don’t have to shame ourselves for wanting to listen to the quiet, inner whisperings of our child selves. So little Maris wants you to know that you can rewatch the same movie every day or the same youtube video, play that old video game, search for that old bakery smell, make as many cups of matcha as you want, or hang onto your childhood pillow till it falls apart. No matter how many times you want to watch it, or how many times you need to, the only person you need permission from is your adult—and non-adult—self. <3