Lifestyle
His playful wood furniture is more like functional art
Walking through the garden of designer and sculptor Vince Skelly’s Claremont home is a distinct local sensory experience. Following a decade living in Portland, Ore., “I just want it to feel like Southern California,” he says as he grazes a palm over a salvia plant, releasing its aroma. Since returning in 2021, the self-taught artist has been expanding his practice and nurturing a connection to his hometown, colloquially dubbed “the City of Trees and PhDs.”
Skelly’s foray into wood sculpting began in 2017, when after spending his days tied to a screen as a graphic designer he’d fire up power tools in his Portland garage. He began by exploring “the limitations of what I can lift into my car, and [using] one chainsaw and tools. Those led to the vocabulary of forms I’m known for.”
Learning about legendary woodworkers such as George Nakashima and JB Blunk in particular, featured in the 2010 book “Handcrafted Modern,” was revelatory. “I was surprised he did all that with a chainsaw because his sculptures felt so refined — these abstract forms out of redwood and cypress,” Skelly says of Blunk. “A chainsaw is such an aggressive tool, and using it in a thoughtful, considered way to create form and shape intrigued me.” Then scaling down to using other analog devices yields nuance and detail.
Furniture made by Vince Skelly, with clay paintings by Dino Matt above.
Artwork made by Vince Skelly.
Vince Skelly holds his 10-month-old son, James Barron Skelly, in the backyard of the family home.
Within a few short years, he was brainstorming ideas and taking commissions from Off-White brand founder and LVMH menswear artistic director Virgil Abloh via DM. The largest prototype project wasn’t fully realized as planned before Abloh’s death in November 2021, but these exchanges “made me realize it’s great to dream big and take chances.” Skelly’s goods being recently installed in the Burberry store on Rodeo Drive is another sign the fashion world appreciates his point of view.
Some details shift, but the core challenge remains: namely, how to take raw timber and apply “the least amount of modification to turn it into a finished piece.”
Benches, chairs, stools, tables and sculptures straddle functional and decorative purposes. Unstained and waxed logs retain their intrinsic qualities yet are transformed in ways that honor their origins. Smooth bench surfaces sit atop hulky rounded bases, and smaller tactile sculptures result from Skelly’s reductive process. Human intervention is evident yet humbled by a certain primal resonance.
Like his heroes’ output, no two pieces are identical. What he describes as “an index,” however, has evolved for clients who want sculptural furniture that retains nature’s imperfections and quirks — but not flop-on-the-sofa comfort. For much of his work Skelly sources specific lumber with the end product in mind, knowing that each undertaking will still take on its own character.
Minimizing waste is a key precept. “I have a hard time throwing away scraps,” he says with a laugh about the shards and wedges that litter the edges of his backyard and the floor of his nearby studio in La Verne. He repurposes offcuts into smaller experiments, including rhythmic, polychromatic wall-mounted pieces hanging in his own home; one is above the white oak fireplace mantle he hand-chiseled.
“Using found wood to dictate new forms” remains a generative exercise, especially when preparing for shows with curator and gallerist Alex Tieghi-Walker of Tiwa Select, who organized “After the Storm” in L.A. in 2022, which showcased pieces made from salvageable debris in the wake of that year’s windstorm. What Skelly will present with Tiwa Select later this year in New York City doesn’t have an “end client, so I can just do whatever I want,” he explains.
Detail of a fireplace mantel made by Vince Skelly.
Vince Skelly gets a record from his collection while his wife, Jessica Barron Skelly, plays with the couple’s 10-month-old son, James Barron Skelly, on the floor of their home in Claremont.
The sensitively updated home where he lives with his wife, Jessica, and their infant son is a laboratory for living with these objects. So far, the presence of a crawling baby has led to only minimal adjustments and aesthetic intrusions.
Rather than function as austere showpieces, Skelly’s creations blend into this welcoming home environment full of earthy colors and personal treasures, which include a beloved rocking chair inspired by Claremont-adjacent master craftsman Sam Maloof that Jessica’s father crafted in the 1970s. It’s an ideal companion piece to the site-specific daybed Skelly made to best enjoy the view from the sunroom’s expansive windows, where dappled light filters through an outdoor screen of towering bamboo.
The Skellys are proud stewards of the midcentury property that holds a convergence of Claremont heritage. While waiting for the right house to come around to plot their move back, they were thrilled to hear about the modest two-bedroom home of former California Botanic Garden director, author and professor Lee Lenz. In the late 1950s, the accomplished botanist and conservationist became the second owner of a spec house for an unrealized cul-de-sac development of concrete masonry residences.
Lenz lived in the property situated within view of his workplace until his death in 2019 at the age of 104. Over the decades, this corner lot became a site for the scientist to apply his expertise, establishing a fantastical, idiosyncratic sanctuary populated with extensive plantings. It’s also a stone’s throw from the studio of seminal mosaic artist and architectural designer Millard Sheets (now home to Claremont Eye Associates).
Given Claremont’s tightknit community, Skelly surmises Lenz and Sheets knew each other. The turquoise mosaic tiles that clad concrete pads in the yard, for instance, perhaps came as surplus from Sheets’ workshop. The inspiration felt immediate.
“It’s a visual city [with] a lot of art. We left our back door and we were in the campuses, climbing on sculptures and seeing Millard Sheets’ mosaics,” Skelly recalls. “I grew up going to the [California Botanic] Garden — then fast-forward to this house.”
Detail of a wood mosaic outdoor shower made by Vince Skelly.
Detail of backyard native plants and outdoor artwork made by Vince Skelly.
Vince Skelly and his family sit outside in the backyard, where handmade artwork and native plants decorate the space landscaped by design studio Terremoto.
Reimagining the backyard in collaboration with David Godshall of noted landscape design firm Terremoto simultaneously pays homage to Lenz and reflects a vision for this young family. California native plants, hardscape additions and meandering paths provide a perfect backdrop for Skelly’s exterior works.
Skelly disassembled Lenz’s old-growth redwood bird cages and repurposed them into a deck. He also installed an original “wood mosaic”-adorned outdoor shower — a sly reference to Sheets. Plenty more remnants remain for potential future use.
His personal and professional life are inexorably tied to the town where Skelly’s artist parents originally moved to attend school at Claremont Graduate University. He’s eager to make his mark through a public art commission that involves producing a bench from another casualty of the 2022 windstorm, and to develop more found-material carved sculptural seating with students as part of a pilot program at Pomona College.
“We know how special it is because of people like Millard Sheets and Sam Maloof who left their fingerprints on the public art scene and the architecture,” he reflects of Claremont. Being outside of L.A. proper has other advantages too. “It’s more accessible to do the things you want to do in a small town.”
Lifestyle
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Lifestyle
Vintage-obsessed millennial parents are driving L.A.’s booming kids’ clothing resale market
Kids’ vintage clothing sales are experiencing a remarkable boom at in-person markets and online, where prices for clothes for little ones have shot up on websites including Depop and Poshmark. Millennial parents are looking to outfit their kids in the clothes and TV and film characters they loved (or coveted) when they were kids.
The result? There’s a new generation of kiddos hitting the playground looking incredibly cool. Take Amari Case, a SoCal toddler who spent a Sunday afternoon this spring ambling around a vintage market in a West Hollywood warehouse clad in baggy jeans and a ’90s-era tee emblazoned with the “Dragon Ball Z” character Son Goku.
When she wasn’t scribbling on a Lorax coloring sheet, she’d been cruising around the market with her dad, Aaron Munoz Case, snapping up new pieces destined to make her the flyest kid at the preschool playground.
Neil Wright, from left, Kristine Nite Scalzo and Brandon Rosenblatt, co-founders of Elemeno Kids Vintage Market.
Showing off Amari’s new vintage satin L.A. Raiders jacket and tiny teal Grant Hill Detroit Pistons jersey, Munoz Case, who was also impeccably dressed, noted that while Amari went through a phase at about 18 months where she wanted to dress herself, eventually she gave up and went back to letting her dripped-out dad dictate her wardrobe.
Munoz Case found Amari’s first vintage piece at the Rose Bowl Flea Market and got the bug, going back every month to pick up something to add to his little’s wardrobe.
Trendspotters and researchers say Munoz Case isn’t alone in his quest. The market for kids’ vintage clothing has heated up precipitously over the last few years, perhaps hitting a boiling point in January when an Eeyore romper from the ’90s sold for over $3,000 on EBay. (It was new with tags, but one without tags still went for almost a grand about a month later.)
The thirst for tiny throwbacks is so popular that first-ever, all-kids market Elemeno — named after the “L-M-N-O” bit of “The Alphabet Song” and where Amari was toddling and shopping — drew 17 vendors and over 2,000 attendees over a single weekend in March. (There are plans for another Elemeno Kids Vintage Market pop-up later this year in New York, as well as plans to bring the event back to L.A. sometime next year.)
1. Cameron Scalzo, wearing a vintage McDonald’s T-shirt from the ‘90s, and mom Kristine Nite Scalzo. 2. Cameron Scalzo rocks an Avirex jacket from the ‘90s.
Eye Speak Vintage’s Kristine Nite Scalzo, who co-organized the event and is opening an all-kids vintage store in Pasadena this month, says she fell under the kids vintage spell in 2020 when she was pregnant with her son. She’d always been a vintage shopper for herself, so she knew she wanted to pass the passion down to the next generation. She started filling up her son’s closet, and soon enough, she found herself selling her other finds out of a bodega in her garage.
She has a by-appointment space in Pasadena now, where she draws everyone from Rihanna’s stylist to out-of-town moms who make a point to stop by on their way to Disneyland. “The community around kids vintage has really skyrocketed on Instagram over the past six years,” Scalzo says. “We want to know who we’re buying from. We want to know that we’re doing good with buying secondhand. And it’s a hobby for people that can turn into a possible business on the side. Because knowing there’s a big group that’s interested in vintage kids clothes, you can always pass an item [your kid outgrows] to someone else or resell it.”
Scalzo says some parents are out digging through bins at the Goodwill Outlet looking for the perfect piece, while others are content to pay up for, say, a ’90s Simpsons T-shirt or a mini-size Harley-Davidson jacket. Scouring the racks at the Elemeno market, most pieces cost $15 to $40, though there were special pieces pulled to the side in some booths with price tags that could make a parent’s eyes pop. (Think $275 for a set of well-worn Spider-Man overalls from the ’00s or $150 for a pair of Cross Colours denim shorts from the ’90s.)
In kids and adult vintage alike, mint condition is highly valued. No matter the era in which they were raised, kids tend to be messy. They get strawberry juice on their shirts or scuff up the knees on their Bugle Boy jeans. Vintage kids clothes that look pristine are more expensive, and while plain kids clothes do sell, items with characters on them or cool prints tend to draw more attention and dollars.
Brandon Rosenblatt, another of the Elemeno organizers, says he’s had his eye on a specific kids “Back to the Future” shirt for some time, but notes that it typically sells for about $1,000. He’s partial to McKids clothes for his daughter, from McDonald’s short-lived kids clothing brand, noting that he’s even snagged her a vintage official McDonald’s-themed aloha shirt from Hawaii, something he says he’s never seen anywhere else.
1. Siblings Amora and Milo Castilo wear vintage cowboy hats, jackets and chaps. 2. Thalia Castilo and her kids Amora and Milo.
Other collectors, he says, might be a little less obscure, leaning into mainstream characters such as Strawberry Shortcake or from ’80s and ’90s properties including “The Land Before Time” and “Rugrats.”
“A lot of millennials are having kids — like everyone who’s in their 30s and 40s — and they all want to put their kids in the same IP they grew up in,” Rosenblatt says.
“It’s the thrill of the hunt that gets everyone so excited,” Scalzo says. “Once you find that perfect nostalgic piece, you’re like ‘Holy s—,’ and you just want to chase that feeling again and again.”
Mia De La Rosa, a reseller who was at the Elemeno market, says that like Scalzo, she started buying kids vintage clothes when she was pregnant with her daughter, Liv, who’s 6 now, very into everything on PBS Kids and has a closet full of thrifted vintage garb covered in characters such as D.W., the annoying little sister from the ’90s show “Arthur.”
Everything Liv wears is “completely her style,” De La Rosa says. “She dresses herself every day and she gets compliments on what she’s wearing at school all the time.”
Other vintage-wearing kids — and in particular younger ones — might simply be sporting what their parents like or might just like the look of the shirt even if they don’t know what it’s advertising. (An 8-year-old boy at the Elemeno market, for instance, chose to wear a pristine T-shirt highlighting the ’90s Jim Carrey movie “The Mask” because it featured his favorite color: green.)
Derrick Broaster, a vintage enthusiast turned full-time reseller, says that while he chooses to put himself in clothes from the ’60s and ’70s, he outfits his two sons in clothes from the 2000s. (“How Bow Wow used to dress when he was a kid,” he says.)
Although his younger son tends to rebel against Broaster’s vintage picks, opting for whatever Spider-Man shoes happen to be in his eyeline, his older son has leaned in, letting his dad advise him on what vintage pieces could work and what would be the most stylish.
1. Julian, left, and Javier Gutierrez show off their vintage clothing. Javier says his mom always tells him to keep his vintage outfits clean. 2. Mom Priscilla Guzman, clockwise, Dad Javier Gutierrez and sons Julian and Javier Gutierrez enjoy the vibe of vintage clothing. Guzman says she’s been buying and selling kids’ vintage since her oldest son was born eight years ago.
Rosenblatt says a good portion of what vintage finds he sees in the market now has returned to the U.S. from places in Central America and South America or Asia where those pieces were likely sent decades ago after they were donated or given away.
“There’s a real underbelly of this vintage game with rag houses getting access to bulk product overseas and letting people sort through it,” he says. “There are companies now that rip through 20, 30 or 40,000 pieces of vintage clothing a week. It’s a really interesting ecosystem.”
For many kids vintage sellers, finding their stock is just as fun and interesting as getting it back into consumers’ hands. “Anywhere we can find clothes, we’re there,” says Matthew Carlos, owner of Long Gone Youth. He started selling vintage clothes 11 years ago, when he was 15, switched to kids vintage at 20 and has spent the last six years scouring flea markets, websites and swap meets.
“The kids market is definitely growing,” he says, “but I still feel like we haven’t even gotten close to where we can go. It’s just getting popular now, but the more events [like Elemeno] we can do, the more it’ll go mainstream.” Even now, some major brands like Gap and OshKosh B’gosh have recognized the interest in some of their styles from the ’80s and ’90s, moving to re-release the looks in limited runs.
Jackie and Frank Oropeza with daughter Rumi Mae shop at Elemeno Kids Vintage Market.
Kids resale is also leaning into streetwear culture. Rosenblatt, who worked in the streetwear industry, says that he’s noticed that a good portion of those interested in kids vintage — particularly, male shoppers — tend to be fans of streetwear brands like Supreme, Fear of God Essentials and Bape. At Elemeno, for instance, a good portion of the parents we saw pushing strollers were well-dressed dads seemingly on solo missions, something you don’t always see at kid-centric events.
“I just want my son to feel like I did as a kid,” said Justin Nguyen, while watching his toddler, Jayden, play with bubbles. “I want him to be happy, carefree and joyful, and I want to be able to spend time with him. My mom and dad were always working, even on the weekends. Now that I’m a dad, taking my son out on weekends to do stuff like this just seems like a blessing.”
Lifestyle
‘Hellions’ author Julia Elliott wins $150K fiction prize
Author Julia Elliott won for her short story collection Hellions.
Forrest Clonts/Tin House
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Forrest Clonts/Tin House
Writer Julia Elliott has won this year’s Carol Shields Prize for Fiction for her short story collection Hellions. The award honors work by women and nonbinary authors in the U.S. and Canada.
Elliott, who also authored the novel The New and Improved Romie Futch and the short story collection The Wilds, is known for blending elements of Southern gothic horror, surrealism and fairy tale. Hellions, published in 2025, includes stories set against backdrops like a plague-stricken medieval convent, a feminist art colony, and small Southern towns.
“This eerie, eclectic, genre-leaping collection takes no half-measures; every sentence of Hellions crackles or crawls,” wrote the prize jury in a statement. “Here, human folly moves against a backdrop of horror and magic … But for all its wildness, there is tremendous control.”
The prize, named after a Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist, awards $150,000 to one winner each year. Novels, short story collections, and graphic novels by women and nonbinary authors are eligible.
This year’s finalists included Quiara Alegría Hudes (The White Hot), Lee Lai (Cannon), Megha Majumdar (A Guardian and a Thief), and Sonya Walger (Lion). They will each receive $12,500.
The Carol Shields Prize went to writer Canisia Lubrin in 2025.
You can listen to actor Donna Lynne Champlin read Elliott’s story “Hellion” on the Death, Sex & Money podcast here.
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