Miss My Tropical Vibe!

Tropical lockdown blues has set in big time for me! I really shouldn't blame it on the pandemic isolation, but there is no denying that ramped up my separation anxiety.

To be truthful, my case of tropical blues began years ago, when we moved back to Florida after living in Mililani, Hawaii. I had been away from Florida for over 15 years. I wasn't prepared for how much it had changed. My memories of Florida were of a lovely tropical state, full of color, with tourists dressed in colorful resort clothes, lounges with bamboo sofas, and restaurants with bamboo furniture with loud but beautiful flowered upholstery. It seems that the Florida I recalled had not been treated kindly by time.

Hawaii had spoiled me! I had experienced the emotional high of 11 years of the ultimate tropical experience. I had worn fabulous tropical clothes to work every day, dresses that were silk, rayon, or high-grade cotton, in bright colorful designs. I enjoyed the soft, silky feel next to my skin of the flowing, light fabrics in the forever Hawaii breeze. No dark, stuffy man-tailored business suits and five layers of clothing!

When we went out to a restaurant, we - wait for it - dressed up! Yes, I might wear a long skirt and light jacket. My husband, of course, would wear one of his favorite Hawaiian shirts and nice casual slacks. I would FEEL elegant, FEEL like I was on permanent vacation, FEEL like a movie star (which by the way, might be sitting right next to you at any given moment). In the late 1990's, some of the restaurants were still full of the 1950-1970's kitsch decorations, and I loved those! Business guests from the mainland or relatives visiting were always a great excuse to visit these portals to a different era. The food did not disappoint either. Much fresh fruit and fish on menus filled with island recipes and infused with delicacies from other Asian and Pacific cultures. Everywhere the food was in tune with the tropical vibe of the environment.

Almost all buildings other than formal office buildings were built with no hard walls, just open to that nice forever breeze. In the hotels, you just walked right to the front desk from the street or walkway. ALWAYS large bouquets of fresh tropical flowers on display.

Dressing in flowered, lovely tropical clothes gave me a lovely pleasant feeling of being in sync with this environment. It brought me closer to my surroundings, or as the Hawaiian people say, the "aina", "love of the land". I say this with the utmost respect for the native Hawaiians, who feel this feeling so strongly, and graciously share that love with the visitors so often. I could never reach that level of connection to the land, but I felt that my love of all tropical gave me a glimpse of the pride and love of Hawaii that they have. It fosters the "aina" and the "Aloha" spirit!

This Aloha spirit was shown often by the native Hawaiians, but especially each Friday. The end of the work week is celebrated all around the world, but Fridays in Hawaii were not just Fridays, but "Aloha" Fridays. On the way to work every Friday, a song called Aloha Friday would be recycled about every 15 minutes. It had fun lyrics and a haunting melody. Everyone always sang along in their cars while enduring the horrible commute downtown. It seemed to make the drive along the six-lane interstate more tolerable. Yes, it is called an interstate. They had to call it that to get federal funding! On Aloha Friday when you reached the downtown business districts, everyone – lawyers, stockbrokers, doctors – would be wearing Aloha Friday attire.

The ladies dressed in "mu umu'u" and the men in "Aloha" shirts. Although some of the professionals wore Aloha shirts most days, from excellent well-known shirtmakers like Reyn Spooner, Friday everyone wore "Aloha" shirts. Traditional white shirts and ties were not the norm. If you saw someone dressed that way, you knew that they were first-timers to the islands.

Downtown business areas were even tropical, with palm trees and beautiful flowering trees mixed with the concrete. I loved to pick up a plumeria blossom and put it over one ear while making my sales calls. I was not the only person to do this! But it took me forever to realize that I was the only person with an umbrella! The rain there is mostly "mauka (mountain) showers", a super fine mist that rolls down the mountains. It dries quickly, so no umbrellas for the locals!

Like the culture, the fascination of the Hawaiian tropical vibe is its' rich influences from so many different peoples. The prints that we typically think of as "Hawaiian" shirts, particularly early ones as opposed to later more commercial varieties, actually evolved from the "palaka" cloth and prints, worn by Chinese workers who picked the pineapple over a century ago. Thus, oriental influences mixed with island influences early.

In the 1920's and 1930's, when the Panama Clippers brought the wealthy tourists, prints morphed into a Hawaiian/Polynesan style of resort clothing for tourists. Like all fashion, these shirts have a colorful history. Entire books have been written about the early manufacturers and the modern evolution of this piece of clothing. Today, Hilo Hattie and a few others, manufacture mostly for the tourists.You frequently see their matching men’s shirts and women’s dresses on the newly married couples in Waikiki. But as with all things, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and the native-born Hawaiians have very different tastes in "Aloha" shirts than the tourists. Tourists tend to like the brighter souvenir style "Hawaiian shirts" and that is as it should be.

My personal favorite in women's clothing was Mamo Howell, who had great upscale stores on different islands. Today, I bring out my favorite Mamo piece around the Christmas holidays, a sweatshirt with a design of a Hawaiian quilting pattern on it. The black shirt has the pattern in bright red, rimmed with gold. It is simple yet festive, and a nod to their great heritage of Hawaiian quilting. My husband gave me a lovely, gold bangle bracelet bright-cut carved in the unique Hawaiian style that matches perfectly.

When my husband and I made the practical decision to return to Florida and leave the endless abundance of beauty that is Hawaii - the flowers, the lush green mountains, and the clear, blue waters plus the bright, fun tropical clothing - I had no idea I would be so disappointed after moving back. In the '70's, Florida had been bright, with bamboo furniture and bright upholstery, and bright clothing with palm trees, flamingos, and hibiscus in the print. I remember my first scandalous bikini being bright blues, greens, and yellows. Like Hawaii, at that time there were few places with air-conditioning, which meant many of the restaurants had outdoor dining, especially on beaches and inlets.

Sadly, I quickly realized that if I dressed up to go to dinner, even in some of the nicest restaurants, I was alone. Cargo shorts or jeans and tees seem to be standard attire for men. Maybe a fish print shirt (that was at least a nod to it being a resort area), and flip-flops in abundance. Women in stretch tees, or just a plain tee shirt and shorts or maybe slacks. So dull and boring! They looked like soldiers, with uniforms all issued at the local big box store.

I made myself a promise, right then, that I would be a one-woman tropical revolution. I have kept that promise. I still wear my bright Hawaiian clothes, my wonderful silk outfits (as weather permits), and on some occasions my long skirts. I have even worn my original "mu umu'u" and matching "haku" headpiece. I have a rule that any new clothing I purchase MUST have bright colors and make me smile when I wear it.

But my go-to items are my real Hawaiian tropicals. Every time I wear my original United Airlines uniform shirt with its orange, green, and blue bright print I am asked where I got it. Depending on who is asking, I respond truthfully that I found it in a thrift store in Hawaii. With its' fun graphics, "Welcome Aboard" and "Hawaii - Your Land is Our Land", it always draws attention. Most of these clothes are fast aging to vintage, but that is okay with me. That will just make them more unique!

The truth is that there are fewer and fewer places that deserve my dedication. Restaurants and bars have gone industrial, chrome-modern, or just plain BLAH. Not a clue you are in Florida. Until the pandemic, outside dining had dried up. Maybe our Florida restaurants will keep that great experience when we all return to eating out again. One can only hope.

I do what I can to create a personal tropical environment. Our condo is decorated with parrots, a two-person bamboo breakfast set, orientalia, and Hawaiian collectibles. I shop the thrift shops for Tommy Bahama and Lilly Pulitzer, the Florida equivalent to some of the Hawaiian designers. And sometimes I am rewarded with a real treasure.

For my sanity, I surround myself daily with items that make me smile, and for a fleeting moment relive my days in Hawaii. My hubby and I each have Hawaiian coffee mugs, brought back ever so long ago, but great to start the day. Many other keepsakes peek at me from our curio cabinets. My carved wood perfume bottle, purchased in the 1940's by some elegant lady, at long-ago forgotten Liberty House department store is one of my favorites. There is a glass paperweight we watched being born at a glassblower’s shop in upcountry Makawao on Maui, and a vintage salt and pepper we picked up at Aloha Stadium Flea Market. Even our car proudly sports a Hawaii license-plate frame from the Honolulu dealership on the front plate. It has now adorned three cars. Can't tell you how many times we've been asked if we drove it from Hawaii (really?).

There are more keepsakes than I can count from our wedding in a 1936 plantation house on Oahu. That story in itself is an entire chapter of my life! From the kahuna who married us to the live orchids on the wedding cake, it was unique and original. If you have ever watched the TV show, Hawaii Five-O, you have seen the place where we were married. The lovely white house portrayed as the home of McGarrett, the star detective, was a storybook venue. Right on the beach, lush foliage and tropical flowers all around the house, a water-facing lanai with white wicker tables and chairs, and original Koa wood interior. Of course, I have pictures! I take them out more often than I like to admit - of me in my "haku" and hubby with his formal lei.

So, within my Florida world, I re-create my tropical vibe - but I do so miss the REAL tropical world that I loved so very much. "Mahalo nui loa, Hawai'i", your tropical vibe was a key that opened a doorway to my heart, and created an experience I will forever cherish!