Lurker finally registered..aloha shirt fan

Hi, name is Julie.

About three years ago, I made my first of many trips to Oahu, Hawaii. I look back at that first trip with such a smile in my heart. I was a hardcore tourist, did everything a tourist should do..Hilo Hattie shell lei, fire dancer lua's, tacky gifts from ABC, spam sandwiches at McDonalds, the Polynesian Cultural Center....

But something happened to me on that first trip I wasn't expecting, didn't plan or could ever forsee. It came time to leave after a week, and I packed, felt a little sad of course...and we were driving out of the Hilton Hawaiian Village and I saw this woman on the curb just before we turned out..she was sitting there, head in hands, crying next to some suitcases..and I suddenly was hit with "it.""It" was some sort of sense of panic. I didn't want to leave, but instead jump out of the car and run for the hills and find my way back to the lookouts of Sunset Beach, back to the coffee shop, back to the red dirt of the North Shore, to the whales. The sensation was nothing short of crushing grief.

How could I have finally found my way to a place that felt like a soul-home and then be taken from it.

I barely remember the ride back to the HNL, but do remember the embarrassment of the hot tears in the Budget shuttle as we drove to our gate. I couldn't hide what I felt, how I swallowed the air deep in my chest wanting just one more minute..one more minute, please..anything could happen, the plane could be delayed, even by ten minutes..anything...

It was there at the gate I stared with a loss I cannot explain and listened as our flight was announced. It was bone chilling, and I felt liquefied, despondent and so lost in the realization that I really loved the island, the people, the breeze and bugs, the sun and water, the sound of the surf in the morning, the easy smiles on the street....

Twelve hours later, I landed at Detroit to four feet of snow, a hard edgy rush, never any eye contact, all plastic cheap world. I would stay there for six more months with nothing more than blazing furnace sounds chasing away the cold demands of the land. It took me that long to get the nerve to unpack my suitcase and stare in wonder at the sand falling at my feet from dive boots that had walked the North Shore preserves near Dillingham....

In late June, we decided to go back for 21 days. The leaving the second time was no less painful to my heart than the first. I made a promise that this wouldn't be the last time, and it was on that second trip I discovered Bailey's of Oahu.

His shop is like a drug deal you didn't see coming. It's Pink Floyd and your first joint on a summer night with soft black birds fanning the air.

I fell in love with aloha shirts, with Hawaiian art, and I knew then I entered the pact willingly, and with a lot of excitement at knowing nothing and feeling a fire in my head to learn more.

I'll never reach the lofts of Danny E., but I bet we share the same spirit for collecting knowledge about the textiles, their makers, histories and stories.

When I wear aloha, I am aloha in a quiet way no matter where I am.

I've bought the standard books, sometimes I study so much I dream about them at night.

By day, I live in an almost gypsy state from where life calls me to be right now, and have no room to store or really collect, so I must live vicariously through those that do and are so fortunate to be able to.

I very much enjoy Tiki Central, and thought I'd crawl out of my virtual closet that is bare and say hello to everyone.

Your excitement and zest for collecting is beautiful to me.

May you all score something wonderful that makes your heart sing and want to share it.

~julie

I guess I'll be the first to welcome you to the tiki room.

I know how that story goes anytime I go somewhere when I get home I'm sad...

I too love the Aloha Shirts. I'm always hitting the Goodwill rack after looking for the mugs!!!!

Hawaii has a way of what i like to say a "returning to the womb" feeling. It feels like home and the connection with the aina can be very intense and when you have been away for so long then go back for a short period you really feel the loss and the lump in your throat as you depart. Living there and visiting there are two different things all together though. Alot of transplants end up working 2-3 jobs to survive and have limited time to live like a "tourist" or enjoy the original allure of the islands. Or you can go the beach bum route and just kinda live freely and slowly. I moved there when i was 21 with 3 other friends and worked a pretty low wage job (Tower Records) and just dog piled in an apartment, but was stoked out of my mind. I would literraly tell random people do you know how lucky we are to be living here. I didnt require much to survive back then, and it definatelly seemed like a simpler time of my life. I had a connection with Waikiki because my dad had lived there and i would visit him every summer for the whole summer as a kid, and i knew that i would return there as an adult to live. During my time living there it absolutely changed my perspective on whats important and saw a way of life and tranquility that i carry with me to this day. The memories of any trip to the islands always can get me through the day and the prospect of my next trip over there keeps the tiki torch within me burning!

Aloha and Welcome to TC Julie!!

I felt similiar feelings when I visited the islands for the first time for only 48 hours.

Within that time though I met Don Tiki, Martin Denny, Augie Colon and Harold Chang. I also got to hang out with Gecko and a few other TC members. It was the time of my life.

I too felt that lump in my throat as I swam on the beach at Waikiki and said "Noooooooooooooooooooo!!"

I will treasure these moments dearly!

Cheers and Mahalo,
Jeff