I love you, L.A.

so so much.

I’m writing this as my two year old naps just feet away from me in our hotel room. A room that my husband and I are also sharing with our two dogs. Safe to say, it’s cozy- but we are some of the lucky ones. Our home is still standing.

After listening to the wind howl outside our house all night and waking up to embers in the air and news of more fires that had broken out overnight, we packed our car and drove south Wednesday morning.

They tell you parenthood is hard, but they never prepare you for trying to keep it together in front of your child while so much of the city you’ve called home for almost a decade burns to ashes. Compartmentalizing grief is a near impossible task.

As an L.A. transplant (I’m not sure how many years it takes to to become an Angeleno but I doubt most would give me that title after 9 years), you get so much unwanted commentary from other people over the years that you eventually learn to block it out. For my husband and I, the most common question is “When are you coming home?!”. It is quite impossible to find a sufficient answer to that question (and I’ve learned, it is so much more about people wanting to put you in a box than it is actual concern over your whereabouts), so I’ve stopped trying. But the real answer is, L.A. has become our home. We spent most of our 20s here- got engaged, moved in together and welcomed our beautiful daughter in this city. It isn’t necessarily what I’d planned on, but I consider creating a community and home for us here to be one of my greatest accomplishments.

My husband and I both have family affected by the hurricanes in Tampa last year. We watched that news helplessly and were heartbroken not to be with our families. As we plan on welcoming a baby in April, one of my biggest prayers and wishes for 2025 was safety.

I’m in a state of shock that probably won’t fade anytime soon. Seeing so much of Malibu gone tore me apart. I am horrified at the videos of Pacific Palisades in ashes. Thinking about the students that lost their schools, their safe spaces and routines, breaks me. Being able to match a memory with almost every landmark that couldn’t be saved is sickening. Knowing that people were told to abandon their cars and run to safety is absolutely terrifying.

If you’ve lived in L.A. long enough, you know it can be both magical and brutal at the same time. You can watch the prettiest sunset in the world while sobbing because you miss your family that lives across the country so terribly. You can eat the most delicious food you’ve ever tasted and walk to your car and find the most expensive parking ticket you’ve ever seen. You can get recruited by one of your favorite beauty brands only to show up to a model casting and feel your heart sink as you notice a line around the block of the prettiest people you’ve ever seen. It’ll break you down, make you feel like an absolute nothing and then the very next day you’ll go on your last first date and meet the love of your life.

This week has been both magical and brutal- with an emphasis on the brutal, obviously, but seeing everyone helping each other has given me hope. The social media of every single person I’ve met since moving here has information on what to put in your go bag, how to help evacuees, GoFundMe pages, thanks for our heroic firefighters, or an offer to donate directly to victims. I’ve seen friends who live mere blocks away from evacuation zones volunteering and urging others to download Watch Duty (and if you live in LA- please do!) for the latest information on these fires, which sadly are not over yet. People like my best friend Phong, who found a company to donate 3,000 eye masks and distributed them to shelters so that evacuees can sleep soundly (apparently lights are kept on 24/7 at these shelters, making it very hard to rest) make me feel like this city will come back stronger than ever. So, sure, we might honk at each other in traffic but at the end of the day Angelenos are resilient and nothing short of determined to show up for each other.

Like so many people, I moved to L.A. to heal. I knew only two people, had no idea how long I’d be here for, or what this city was like. I wanted a safe place for a fresh start and this city has given me so much more- a happy marriage, another dog, a creative community and a beautiful daughter. L.A. helped me and all I really want to do right now is help it in return. I’m listing resources below for those who are able to donate:

• GoFundMe for my friends Tara and Jem who lost their home and everything in it here

• GoFundMe for Marta and her husband here

• GoFundMe for Reel Inn employees here.

• Support our brave LAFD here.

• DirectRelief which distributes N95 masks and respirators.

• Salvation Army - providing shelter and food for first aid responders.

• Pasadena Humane Society - they’ve taken in over 300 animals and urgently need more funds.

• Wasteland will be accepting clothing donations at all their Southern California locations.

• I’d also recommend donating what you can (everything helps) to the GoFundMe’s of friends or friends of friends on social media. I’ve read too many heartbreaking stories to count and want all these families to have a fresh start.

If you or someone you know has lost everything- DONNI is offering to send a box of clothing- DM alyssawasko here and TheRealReal is partnering with Tower28 to send boxes to victims (info here). A list of therapists offering their services for free here. Babyletto is offering free cribs here. Free meals for evacuees and first responders here. I will update this list as I find more resources.

Thank you for reading. I’ll resume regular fashion content when the time feels right.

XO, Liz

Will Rogers State Beach is one of the many community landmarks lost this week. A photo I took there in 2021.

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