An L.A. Story & Click On This N°17
A jumble of emotional and incoherent words and then some helpful links.
Here, we spend time wondering about the techniques and projects and points of view that go into building meaning in your environment; world-building, but shrunk to the size of a single person, a couple, a family.
I’ve been curious about the way the physical and material is also emotional and personal (mind in matter as it were, shout out to Aristotle!) and the way in which a domestic practice—whether that’s trying a lil’ DIY project, hosting friends in your space, shit, just dusting or lighting a candle—bit by bit creates an embodied life. Martha called it Living; I don’t disagree.
Granted, I think this particular proclivity has lived in me for a long time. Name another tween whose top stop at The Mall was [pre-beige] Restoration Hardware. But—and I realize just now this is probably not a coincidence—the place I’ve found where living is almost universally held as an art form is where I also happened to spend seventeen years, starting at 18 years old, my whole post-youth: In Los Angeles.
As a young magazine writer, I would routinely need to traverse some twisty canyon to interview a ceramicist, weaver, model, surfer, heiress, you-name-it; find them tucked into a little pocket of this massive city, inevitably a world of its own, and always dusted with the patina of personal meaning. It inspired the original iteration of this blog in 2012, when I finally found a place that felt like an extension of me and that I could afford: a microscopic house in Mount Washington, more outside than inside, teetering on an unstable hillside, and every Sunday a band would practice in the canyon and everything was dusty and golden and honestly the band wasn’t too bad either.
We moved to a practical house when I got pregnant (If someone asked how’s the new house, I’d say something like, “It has a driveway.” Invite me to your parties, I’m really fun.) and then in early 2020, a friend of Jesse texted a few photos of a house that was coming soon and we immediately asked to see it. It was our third attempt to move to Altadena; always the backup offer, never the bride. This time, we would buy the house mid-flip, put in all our own materials, and sort of instantly be back to that place where your outsides match your insides. We entered escrow and enrolled our then-Kindergartener at a local school.
But things were immediately difficult: There was a persistent cat pee smell that required structural beams and subflooring be replaced. The man flipping the house was, categorically speaking, an absolutely nightmare of a person. The pool depth (there was a pool!!!!) was no longer code and was dangerous, I guess. And then the pandemic hit and the thing that we require to run our lives—people having weddings—was no longer happening. Meanwhile, the flooring company was calling me non-stop; the floors had arrived, they needed me to pay the balance. Putting in the floors was the point of no return in this deal and I dodged the calls; Jesse drove to the valley to return our deposit. We left escrow and I sobbed. And then, to make an incredibly convoluted and long story seem utterly simple and direct, we moved to Maine.
So, remarkably, after 17 years in Los Angeles, this turns out to be a story of someone whose home was gently layered over with snow this weekend, not ash; whose kids went ice fishing and played pond hockey, instead of finding out all their toys, stuffies, books, and school are gone. So many (well meaning! I appreciate you!) people have said, You must feel like you made the right choice. Insufferably New England from the moment I stepped foot in Los Angeles in 2003, I used to rattle on about how unsustainable this place is and how one day people would realize and leave. When we left LA in 2020, I did feel that way—Oh I’m sorry is it 100° today?—but ‘I told you so’ isn’t working anymore and I miss L.A. more today than I have in the four and a half years we’ve been gone. To see this city, the one that handled the second half of raising me, brutalized; my friends and in-laws grief stricken and terrified has been absolutely unbearable. And we’re just so far away.
Someone well-known ended up buying that house after we bailed on it—that particular embodiment of meaning became theirs—and so now I know it’s gone. As is the school our boys would have attended and the entire community we tried so hard to be a part of. We keep calling it the Sliding Doors effect. It’s not hard for anyone to sympathize with the loss so many are experiencing right now; and for us, knowing we would be right there, too, if I’d just answered the phone when the flooring guy called and paid the balance.
Here is an incomplete list of resources to support those affected by the fires in Los Angeles.
First, there are several lists being compiled with completism in mind, these are them:
Complete-ish (?) list of all brands giving things away to fire victims
Gigantic master list of available leases in lots of different neighborhoods
Free “Shops,” to either donate to or collect stuff for those who lost everything:
Donation + Collection: Merci Milo is putting together packages for children. If you’d like to donate, simply add something (I just did a gift card?) to your cart, check out with a note that it’s a donation. A recent email came through that more younger kid toys (infant-4 years) would be great.
Donation + Collection: +COOP shop is collecting new items across multiple categories. They’re also accepting gift cards, which can easily be purchased and transferred to them if you’re far flung.
Donation + Collection: This one made me weep. Altadena Girls is an org started by some teen girls—they’re looking to give out *new* items across categories to help them recover.
Donation: My pal Kate and her friends are accepting donations through We Love LA (monetary for most; stuff if you are a brand!!) to put together care packages for now over 60 families.
Collection: Kalon Studio is working closely with independent brands to put together goods and clothing. They are receiving things on a rolling basis, sign up here if you’d like to be notified.
Collection: Pasadena Wine Shop’s got your back.
Collection: Great Jones is offering cookware to those affected; instructions are in this Instagram post.
Donation + Collection: Big, big Free Store event effort in Highland Park on January 18th.
Collection: Reformation will be giving out clothes; sign up here to hear more.
Firefighter and Emergency Response Support
Resources for emotional, physical well-being and stuff for families
Here For Each Other resource by the Sesame Foundation
What I’m sure is just the most intoxicating and beautiful lung-supportive tea from sweetest, best Niki of Lookout and Wonderland
Care Camps for kids through LA Parks and Rec (they’re running all day, by the way)
OK, the Big Boy: Housing Support
First, some copywriting support for those who've created Go Fund Me campaigns (apparently this can effect your insurance claim?)
Big compiled database of Go Fund Me Campaigns—you can sort and look by how close they are to their goal! Mark Duplass’ films have singlehandedly almost broken up my marriage several times, but he’s right about the algoriddim and sorting through these various campaigns to help those who aren’t getting a ton of online traction.
To that end: Another database ENTIRELY sorted by how funded the campaign is/isn’t.
Here’s another one highlighting campaigns with only 20% of their goals reached.
Because of historic redlining in Pasadena and surrounding other neighborhoods nearby (*cough* Eagle Rock *cough*), Altadena is a thriving middle class Black community, with ownership rates at 81%, double the national average. Here is a list of Black families that could use support.
Database of architects, contractors and other trades ready to help when rebuild kicks in.
And finally, one more that made me lose it: Free illustrations of your lost home.
Sending love. ❤️🩹
Great resource thank you Zinzi and love hearing about your LA life, incidentally, where we first met. ❤️🩹
Thank you for sharing this. Relate so much as a born and bred Angeleno who also now lives far away in the U.K. . People who haven’t lived there don’t understand why the connection is so strong and the devastation we feel watching what’s happened to our town 💔