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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.

JK yes clickbait. ** is AZ. *** is NYC. In light of a few members of the CR Phoenix team moving away and beginning new chapters in their lives, I thought this would be an excellent time (as a self proclaimed Arizona returnee) to reflect on what I personally didn’t realize I would miss about this state.  When I was in college, I spent an absurd amount of time in New York City, entirely for stupid reasons. The first time I went was because a friend drunkenly invited me to visit for two weeks. The second time was a 3 month stint with two other people just as crazy as me who agreed to split a one bedroom in west Harlem (Do NOT do this). The third time was the longest at 9 months, for someone I thought I was madly in love with (I also would probably not recommend this).  This is not to say I don't miss NYC - I miss it a lot. I never cared that much about the dirt and grime of the city, or the rats scurrying around in the background. Nowhere in the US, in my opinion, is as walkable. A friend of mine always says, “You know how I love when exercise is naturally implemented into your day.” I was basically hitting the stairmaster everyday out of necessity with the subways. I miss the scrappiness too… I had many a weird job. Everything was a side quest. The friends I made were so different from anyone I’d ever met. Someone I met there is childhood friends with Amaya from this past season of Love Island, which I didn’t know until he posted, “Congratzzz cousin.” Another girl I met through a friend is Lil Uzi Vert’s piercer. There’s a lot of queer joy to be found as well, so loudly celebrated. I cannot say the same for Phoenix unless you know where to go. Below: Trader Joe’s On 96th Hero Cosmetics Internship Pretending To Graduate From NYU Very Gay Cow Themed B-Day Party Crazy Haircut After Breakup & Pink Lady In The Park Marketing Internship Where The Girl From The NYU Photo Posted This Goddamn Parmesan Cheese Graphic And They Caught Us Redhanded Arizona, by contrast, is a dusty Republican dominated state with old white people shaking their fists in the air as people forget to signal while merging three lanes over to the exit on the highway. The air pollution is probably just as bad as NYC. Sometimes, Congressman Eli Crane’s call-in town halls are routed to my phone and I pick up to listen in and see what the rest of Arizona has to say. Unsurprisingly, they’re usually mad about the border.  And yet… when I came back to finish out my senior year of college, and the heat enveloped me in its devilish embrace… I felt a rush of gratitude and awe that I had never truly felt before as an entitled bitch. Everyone says they can’t wait to leave Arizona, as one does when you’ve stayed somewhere most of your life and desperately want to experience something, anything! I would never say that you shouldn’t go and explore, but remember to leave space to return. You don’t know what you have until you’ve lost it. Ugh! I hate it when middle aged people reflecting on their youth are right! God, I missed the heat! When I landed in NYC, there was a BLIZZARD GOING ON! I went out in a BLIZZARD to locate the correct screws for my bedframe (my new roommate had somehow lost all of the screws) and after I had found and purchased them, I dropped them all outside of the hardware shop. That would never happen in Phoenix. Some people (Filipinos) sweat tremendously in the heat and hate it here. I (awesome lizard woman) do not sweat that much. That is why Maria Manaog, founder and Editor in Chief of Club Rambutan, moved to SF and I am still here. I love that we don’t have seasons. We have summer (extreme edition) and fall. Not many layers are needed and you save space on clothing in your bags and closets. I liked the layering for the fun, fashion experimentation aspect, but then why was I at the club looking like a grandma?  I can't even joke this was a terrible horrible day I hate admitting this, but I missed the pool. I don’t particularly like getting wet, especially not my hair, but there’s something so wonderful about clipping your hair up and wading around in a shaded pool in Arizona heat. Perhaps reading a book poolside, dipping your toes in. Hot tubs in the fall (weather is perfect for them for so many months of the year) with friends. NYC does not have easy to access pools, in fact, the Harlem pool was shut down when I lived there, to my roommate and I’s chagrin. You can go on TikTok  and see the military intensity they run their public pools by.  The valley is also known for the extreme intensity of its air conditioning. And I’m sure many have said, “But Europe doesn’t have air conditioning!” SHUT UPPPPP! This isn’t Italy! My NYC roommate and I did not even have window air conditioning because some man was supposed to purchase it for us. I got fed up at the end of June, hopped on Facebook Marketplace, found one for $50, carried it down 6 flights of stairs, reassessed my strength, and called an Uber. Then I installed it myself. Lesson learned - never trust your friend when they say a man will provide. He will not. I love central AC now with every fiber of my being. My dad keeps his house at 78 degrees in the summer and that felt like the greatest gift I had ever received when I returned. I have so many other aspects of Phoenix that I didn’t realize I loved so wholeheartedly… the dryness, how flat the city is, the highly praised street grid system, the library…having a reasonably sized closet… so many things. Most importantly, my brother was here. Frankly, I’m not a family oriented person, so this one surprised me. I don’t call my parents and they don’t call me. We’re not the sharing type. I had spent so much time away from my brother by this point - boarding school for the last two years of high school and almost all of college - that I couldn’t even fathom that he was 17. When I left for boarding school, I had been 17 myself, uncertain, horribly down in the dumps, and honestly? I didn’t give a fuck about anyone but me. The best and worst part about returning to Arizona has always been the realization that he had suddenly become a fully formed person without my consent or knowledge. If I had gone back to NYC like I originally planned after graduating early, I would have never truly known my brother. What a shame that would have been! He’s really quite a nice boy. He just turned 20 and is a much less selfish person than I was at 20, so I have high hopes for him at 25.  Below : My brother in 2017 vs 2023. I legitimately could only find this stupid photo where he was pretending to take a photo of me but instead took a selfie. I remember he stopped by my apartment sometime last year and someone told me, “You can tell that he really loves you.” And while I am sure he would have loved me even when far, far away, in a way you’re taught to love the family you don’t see very often, it’s much more tangible now. I know I can borrow his Subaru to retrieve a giant piece of furniture I found on Facebook Marketplace. He knows he can call me for things that don’t concern all of y’all. Not trying to air out his business in my article…  Anyways, heat, pools, AC and my brother - there’s my Arizona quartet that I didn’t realize I missed. One of my crazy and fondly remembered ex-roommates (I actually still live with her) said to add, “The rain in Arizona smells good. The rain in NYC smells like fish.” So, to all you Arizona rain lovers out there, beware New York City. It smells like fish (and dreams! if you believe Alicia Keys).

I’m 10 minutes late to a family affair. Well, sort of. I spent a lot of time visiting Oakland in my childhood to see my mom’s family. They settled there in the 1980s and have been living there ever since. After years of looking out of the car window on the way to my grandma’s, it is surprising to see how much of the city has changed. Even though I was born and raised in the Bay Area, I realized that I hadn’t put in as much effort as I wanted to learn about my family’s past. Sure, there were the immigration stories that my parents briefly shared when asked, but pressing for further details was always met with resistance or questions about my preoccupation with the past. For my parents, it’s about looking forward and thinking about the now. Looking back at the past is a luxury. Additionally, Oakland has been a city used by media outlets as a scapegoat – an example of a city that could do better, one that has a higher crime rate. In reality, the people of Oakland cannot be reduced to a monolith; the people here have resilience and tenacity. They have stories to tell if people are willing to listen. Going to the Oakland Historical Center was my first step to take in diving deeper into the world that I grew up in, to learn more about my parents’ connection to the city’s history, and to learn more about the people that make up Oakland. I take the elevator to the second floor. There are two glass cases with posters and magazines from the historical center archives, such as the Festival of the Lake posters from the 80s and 90s. Rows of bookcases with books about Oakland line the walls, and a few tables and chairs are in the room for visitors to sit in. Emily, a librarian working at the OHC, greets me as I walk into the center. I apologize for my tardiness, but it looks like I’m the only patron in the center. Lucky me! She walks me over to the cabinet and a stack of books and folders that she prepared just for me. All the books prepared for my visit. Emily walks me through the material she selected and gives me a brief overview. I ask if I could see the household records mentioned on the website, to which she agrees and leads me to the Map Room, lined with shelves carrying giant books dating back to the 1800s. I give her the address to my dad’s old residence back in the late 1980s and she scans the sections to see the street it fell under. The Town has drastically changed, but some of the structures are still the same. For this specific map, Emily highlights the colors of each of the buildings and what they represent. Small symbols and icons represent the entrances and exits, what type of building they were, etc. I return to the history center to start reading through the documents. I read about the Pacific Renaissance Plaza, which was funded by a Hong Kong financial backer, and how there were disagreements about control and competition over the building. I see this photo of the family that ran Tin’s Market, one of the supermarkets in Oakland, Chinatown. As I am flipping through the articles, I spot one that mentions a businessman changing his last name from Ly to Lee to make it easier for American customers to pronounce. Same with my family. As I read more and more of the article, I realize that the businessman has a lot of similarities to my family history… the businessman arrived the same year as my family members, the businessman had the same number of family members arriving…Could this be a relative? I look in the folder to see a page left unturned; I forgot to check for other pages to the article. Flipping the page, I am greeted with my uncle’s picture. I feel goosebumps on my skin. I never would have imagined seeing a relative in a news article, but seeing it physically in front of me, the black and white portrait staring back at me, I feel a sense of pride and connection to not only my family but the historical center and the city. So, the conclusion to all this? I am really glad that I took the time to stop at the historical center, and I definitely received more than I expected. The visit left me wanting to explore the center further and raised many more questions for me. What about the other communities in Oakland during this time? How did different communities interact with one another during the 1980s and 1990s? Who were the people behind the newspaper that wrote about my uncle? I realized that there is still a lot more to uncover. It does take time and patience to sort through these papers and documents but… who knows? A spontaneous trip and a curiosity to learn may lead you to find out more than you expect. Learn more about the Oakland History Center here. https://oaklandlibrary.org/ohc/ Read Oakland’s Chinatown by William Wong .

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

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.