I recently ventured to an Ojai holiday shopping event, with the hope of finding a gift for someone who is not myself.  While I did not find anything for anyone I was able to take away the experience that is Ojai.  Ojai—where the clothes look dusty, but the faces are highly manicured.  You bought those broke down converse for two dollars, but took the time to make sure the beard was oiled and the face was moisturized.  Interesting decisions are made before leaving one’s minimally decorated abode for the day…

While I did not find a single gift for myself or anyone else, I did discover that one can purchase sake by the can. So, not a total loss.  Having already gone through the trouble of getting dressed and leaving the house, I decided to explore the area, specifically the thrift shops.  Spoiler alert: I didn’t find a damn thing, but I did further my journey down the rabbit hole that is Ojai.

Do you ever walk into a space and immediately know you’ve made a mistake, but out of respect to the establishment you proceed to make a half-hearted attempt at browsing?  I had already put the effort into opening the Yelp and searching for this place.  Why not take a few more minutes to peruse the soiled apparel?  Remind me to scratch this effort from my list of future life decisions as a new year resolution…

The most remarkable thing I found was a questionable ceramic “Chanel” timepiece, marked at a flattering four figure price tag.  (Future Inspiration to dream big when requesting more money for my own questionable offerings).  After that I decided to check out another small shop just down the road.  I saw an olive colored Benetton button-up that might have wanted to come home with me, but I was far too distracted by the proprietor’s oddly delightful personality and chosen vernacular to remember which pocket I’d zipped my wallet into.  To be sure, while there may be a shortage of tertiary colored clothing, there is no shortage of quirk.

Before stepping back through the looking glass I made one more stop.  A hole in the wall with lots of almost finds.  Designer heels in the wrong size.  Vintage evening wear with pulls.  Annoyingly nothing was quite right.  Too big, too small, too worn.  Again, the shop keeper was wonderfully friendly and very much dancing the to the beat of her own drum in a gold sequined knit with matching pants.

 So, while I collected nothing but the experience of an interesting trip, (and some very delicious brisket tacos) I think I walked away better for it.  It’s easy to get lost in the experience of the hunt when your head is actively plunging into the racks.  We have to remind ourselves there is joy to be had in the experience as well.  All that having been said, there’s nothing quite like visiting your old haunts, where everybody knows your name and will talk you out of buying a bath robe in favor of that Girbaud duster you’ve been eyeing instead.

Cheers & Happy New Year!

NOT the bath robe