Lifestyle
When a life coach manifests nothing for you but debt and delusion
When Anela Pasalic moved from her rural hometown in Småland, Sweden, to study in the capital of Stockholm, she remembers feeling isolated and severely depressed. It was then that she happened across a glamorous spiritual guru.
Pasalic watched on her phone screen as Kathrin Zenkina shared, from roughly 5,500 miles away in Los Angeles, how she turned her life around through manifestation, which is the philosophy that we can will things into existence by believing they’ll happen. “It just felt like she was an ordinary girl who went for it and had amazing shifts in her life. She also seemed very kind, caring and understanding,” Pasalic says.
For Pasalic, Zenkina felt like an online best friend — one who boasts almost 450,000 followers on Instagram, identifies herself as a “seven-figure entrepreneur” and sells manifestation courses through her business, the Manifestation Babe Academy. Pasalic, who first encountered Zenkina in 2018 when she was 23, took out a payment plan to cover a $1,300 program that Zenkina advertised as the only course one would need to manifest their dreams. Now 30, she estimates she has spent more than $6,000 on Manifestation Babe Academy courses. To pay for them, she borrowed money from family and skipped payments on other bills, like student loans. This was partially due to Zenkina’s suggestion that behaving as though you have money is a technique for attracting it. “I wanted to manifest better circumstances, like me being happy, me having better friendships, me feeling aligned with life,” she explains. Zenkina declined to comment.
Although manifestation has been around since the 1800s, it has moved from the margins to the spotlight amid the recent wellness boom fueled by social media. By summer 2020, Google searches for the term “manifestation” increased, and ample books and podcasts on the practice were released. Since then, the term has been used colloquially (if often semi-ironically) in both pop culture and in everyday life: Sabrina Carpenter employed it in her song “Bed Chem,” and in 2024, “manifest” was Cambridge Dictionary’s word of the year.
“Manifestation” search interest grew in the first half of 2020.
(Google Trends)
At the same time, some life coaches began incorporating manifestation into their services. Their guidance, from relationship to financial to career, can cost $50 per month to thousands of dollars per course. And some followers, like Pasalic, may end up feeling cheated and confused.
The life coaching arena is largely unregulated. Although coaches can receive certifications from various bodies, not all of them do, and these certifications vary in legitimacy as there is no overarching board. “Coaching is not a regulated field, it’s not a regulated practice. … When you see a licensed professional, such as myself or other psychologists, we have accountability to our licensing body,” explains Lynn F. Bufka, head of practice at the American Psychological Association. What’s more, anyone can call themselves a coach.
Zenkina, who doesn’t advertise that she has certifications, teaches manifesting, journaling, tapping specific points on the body while focusing on particular thoughts and taking actions that feel “aligned” with one’s desires. She has clients record themselves vocalizing their wants, turning down the volume on the recording until it’s inaudible, overlaying it with calming music and listening to it on repeat — a technique known as “subliminal hypnosis.” Pasalic attended online programs that involved prerecorded webinars alongside worksheets and live Q&As.
Pasalic followed Zenkina with religious fervor, but her life didn’t change. She began to feel helpless and out of control, especially as most of Zenkina’s teachings focused on inner work over practical change. (As manifestation is intangible, it can be difficult for clients to ascertain whether or not their coaching is “working.”)
“In many ways, manifesting takes the problems with life coaching to a new level, further moving the process away from the concrete, practical advice that coaching should be about and into the abstract, occult, less researched and even riskier realm.”
— Dr. Elias Aboujaoude
“In many ways, manifesting takes the problems with life coaching to a new level, further moving the process away from the concrete, practical advice that coaching should be about and into the abstract, occult, less researched and even riskier realm,” says Dr. Elias Aboujaoude, a psychiatry professor at Stanford University, a research scientist at Cedars-Sinai and the author of “A Leader’s Destiny: Why Psychology, Personality and Character Make All the Difference.”
Zenkina warned her followers that their lives would fall apart before they improved, and that the universe would help them in the “11th hour.” So Pasalic trudged on. Then, in January 2020, her parents convinced her to visit a doctor who prescribed her an antidepressant. The medication helped, but then Zenkina said something that made Pasalic doubt its effectiveness.
On a live Q&A, according to Pasalic, Zenkina said antidepressants can help people get to a higher vibration (spiritual parlance for happiness and positivity), but then, perhaps, they should let them go. “I had been on antidepressants for maybe 10 months. And I was just like, ‘Oh, maybe she’s right. Maybe I should quit antidepressants; maybe I’m better now,” recalls Pasalic.
“If you don’t have any expertise in mental health, you might dangerously cross a line into a territory where you really need to have some expertise in order to be effective,” says Bufka, regarding coaches giving medical advice.
Pasalic says she had a wake-up call when midway through a roughly $2,400 Sovereign Money course — which promised to help disciples “hack the money game using the spiritual laws of money manifestation,” create “generational wealth for lifetimes” and “become recession proof” — didn’t work. She asked for a refund, but was denied.
“I was just so delusional,” Pasalic says. “I was stuck in my life for seven years because I believed what she was teaching.”
To vent, she took to the Life Coach Snark subreddit — one of several forums where people share their experiences with life coaches they suspect are taking advantage of people — and a deluge of similar tales came in. Pasalic says members of the various subreddits fear retribution for speaking out.
Nevertheless, the camaraderie was cathartic. “It felt comforting knowing other people were validating my feelings and what I went through,” she says.
Dane Schwaebe, too, was depressed and unhappy with his life when he stumbled into the coaching universe. A friend had recommended he look into Nick Unsworth, the charismatic founder of Life on Fire, a spiritual life and business coaching program which promises to help people unleash their “god-given potential.” On LinkedIn, he boasts certifications in hypnosis; neuro-linguistic programming, an unproven form of therapy that involves reprogramming how people process information; and time line therapy, which aims to teach people to respond to current circumstances without being informed by the past.
Schwaebe says he was seduced by how Unsworth presents on social media: He lives in a large house in Texas, drives a Dodge Viper sports car and, to Schwaebe, kind of resembles Channing Tatum. He’s also a family man, featuring his wife and three kids heavily in his Instagram content.
In 2018, Schwaebe signed up for a free introductory event in San Diego, about an hour’s drive from his Temecula home. Per Schwaebe’s account, it lasted from early in the morning until late at night, with a 20-minute lunch break, and attendees were asked to turn their phones off and put them away. As well as a group visit to church, Schwaebe says, the event featured new-age spirituality techniques like group meditation, Reiki and manifestation.
Unsworth also allegedly regaled attendees with the story of the time he was deep in debt and turned his life around through coaching (a recurring theme in his content.) “They offer a light, you know? They’re kind of like angler fish … You’re down and you’re in this darkness, and you see a light,” reflects Schwaebe. Unsworth did not respond to multiple requests for comment through his website’s contact form, email and Instagram.
After the free event, Schwaebe says he paid $6,000 for Life on Fire offerings. Per Schwaebe, one course called “Abundance” involved participants shouting a description of the person they wanted to become while a member of Unsworth’s team evaluated how much their eyes widened as they yelled — the wider, the better. Attendees also gathered in a circle to make a confession and confront a group member who resembled someone who had hurt them. Schwaebe chose a woman who reminded him of his birth mom and, per instruction, let it all out, which involved screaming and crying. One of the testimonies on the course’s website reads, “my favorite part of the event was breaking through generational sins, shame and regret.”
“I’m a perfect candidate for this sh—. I had a credit card to cover the coaching balance and was in a depressed, wounded state. I was willing to throw money at whatever would theoretically make me better,” says Schwaebe.
The title of “life coach” could potentially cause confusion, says Aboujaoude. “When life becomes your topic, you are a de facto therapist,” he says. “While any new helping profession is a welcome addition to our well-being landscape, this totally unregulated Wild West risks doing serious harm.”
Another Life on Fire event, Schwaebe says, guided attendees on how to manifest money, freedom and their own business. Schwaebe grew uneasy when Unsworth used it to pitch another course, suggesting those who couldn’t afford it ask someone they know to help pay for it. He also offered a commission for enticing friends and family to join, framing it as a business opportunity, says Schwaebe, who had signed up for the program via his friend’s affiliate link.
Unsworth also offers a course teaching people how to become a life and business coach in 90 days. Indeed, over the past few years, coaches coaching coaches have become a key component of the industry’s business model.
Today, Schwaebe says he is doing better. He’s been diagnosed with depression and ADHD; he takes medication and sees a therapist. He’s also set up an online marketing business, the success of which he attributes to no one but himself.
His advice for anyone considering following a life coach with a manifestation focus? “Don’t drink the Kool-Aid.”
So how can people seeking life and emotional support — whatever the form — navigate that search safely, particularly given the onslaught of coaches with polished social media presences? Bufka recommends asking the practitioner all of the questions you can. “It’s very appropriate to ask questions. How do you know this is effective? When should I expect to see some changes? What will we do to adjust if I’m not seeing the kinds of changes [I need]? You know, asking questions like that can help somebody make a more informed decision,” she says.
She also recommends enlisting the help of a friend, who can weigh in if things start feeling off. And if someone suspects they need mental health support, a qualified professional would best serve their needs, Bufka says. “Seeing the professional with the education and experience in the domain in which you’re struggling is going to be really important,” she says.
Today, Pasalic says she still struggles sometimes because of how much she invested into (and relied on) Zenkina’s teachings, but she feels more independent. “I’m so, so much better and feeling much happier,” she says. “I feel so much more like myself than I did before.”
Lifestyle
Firings at CBS’ ’60 Minutes’ reflect the fight for media control in the age of Trump
Correspondents of CBS’ 60 Minutes pose for a portrait in 2023. From left to right, they are Sharyn Alfonsi, L. Jon Wertheim, Bill Whitaker, Lesley Stahl, Scott Pelley, Cecilia Vega, and Anderson Cooper. Former Executive Producer Bill Owens sits on the far right. Only Wertheim, Whitaker and Stahl remain at the program.
CBS Photo Archive/CBS via Getty Images/CBS
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When CBS fired Scott Pelley on Tuesday night, the new 60 Minutes executive producer, Nick Bilton, told Pelley it was for insubordination at a staff meeting the day before.
The veteran correspondent argues he was defending the DNA of 60 Minutes and the integrity of its journalism.
The battle royale over the network’s most prestigious and profitable news program is part of a broader fight over the direction of CBS News.
And given CBS’s acquisition by a billionaire family whose business interests have become intertwined with the political interests of President Trump, it reflects a larger war over control of the media in the current moment.

That father and son, Larry and David Ellison, bought CBS’ parent company, Paramount, last summer. In January, they became co-owners of TikTok’s U.S. operations. Now they’re seeking approval from Trump’s regulators to buy Warner Bros. Discovery, the parent company of CNN.
A glamorous show shorn, for now, of most its stars
CBS fired Cecilia Vega, a correspondent, and Tanya Simon, the executive producer, from 60 Minutes last week. They are shown in this photo at the 2026 White House Correspondents’ Association Dinner on April 25, 2026 in Washington, D.C.
Kristina Bumphrey/Variety via Getty Images/Variety
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Kristina Bumphrey/Variety via Getty Images/Variety
But the specifics of this individual episode matter — for 60 Minutes, CBS, its audience of millions, and even the news business itself.
The program has been the most glamorous post in broadcast news. The correspondents are the stars of the show. And now, there are just three of them.
Anderson Cooper left last month, concerned over the direction of the network’s coverage. Last week was a virtual bloodbath: correspondents Cecilia Vega and Sharyn Alfonsi were fired. So were a producer and two show executives — including Tanya Simon, a longtime staffer who had stepped up as executive producer when her predecessor resigned in protest before the Ellisons’ takeover.

With Pelley’s ouster, only correspondents Lesley Stahl, Bill Whitaker, and Jon Wertheim remain. Now they are considering whether to resign, according to two associates with knowledge.
Their brand-new boss, Bilton, was previously a tech reporter for The New York Times and an investigative reporter for Vanity Fair. He executive-produced a documentary for Netflix about a couple accused of laundering Bitcoin and has been a producer on several other films.
Notably, he has no experience in television news.
Neither does Bari Weiss, whom David Ellison installed as the network’s editor in chief last October. The Ellisons also bought her center-right views-and-news site, The Free Press.
She has maintained that the network of Walter Cronkite needs a makeover for the digital moment. She has also contended for years that CBS, along with the rest of mainstream media, is too reflexively anti-Trump, anti-Israel, and too woke.
A rejection of CBS News executives’ overtures
The new executive producer of 60 Minutes, Nick Bilton, has been a tech journalist and documentary filmmaker, but lacks experience in broadcast news.
Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images/Getty Images North America
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Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images/Getty Images North America
Bilton attempted to set a conciliatory tone at Monday’s meeting — his first with the show. Pelley, a formidable veteran correspondent and former CBS Evening News anchor, wasn’t having it.
Pelley called Bilton unwelcome and unqualified. And Pelley said that Weiss was attempting to “murder” the program.
In firing Pelley on Tuesday, Bilton said the journalist had hijacked the meeting and rejected overtures to work constructively through their differences. (NPR obtained a copy of the firing notice.) Bilton wrote that Pelley’s “antipathy to the future of the show came through loud and clear.”
In his own statement late Tuesday evening, shared with NPR, Pelley accused CBS’s new news leadership of killing 60 Minutes‘ DNA and pushing him “to inject falsehoods and bias into a politically sensitive story” and “to include assertions that are unverified.”
The accusations, to which CBS has not yet responded, echo those made by Alfonsi and Vega, the two correspondents fired last week.
Earlier this year, Alfonsi publicly complained after Weiss held one of her stories at the last minute, and kept it frozen for weeks, demanding an on-camera interview with a Trump White House official that never played out. It ran, unchanged from the intended version, with additional statements from the administration tacked on to the end.
After being fired, Vega said in a statement obtained by NPR that her team had “experienced efforts to insert political bias into our stories.”
“Let’s call this what it is: censorship, both censorship and self-driven” Vega continued. “It is dangerous for the show and dangerous for democracy.”
Weiss previously rejected Alfonsi’s and Vega’s allegations. (CBS said Vega’s claims, for example, were “not based in reality” while expressing appreciation for her work.)
Weiss and Bilton say digital threat requires a 60 Minutes overhaul now
In a meeting this morning, Weiss said that Pelley chose his own path — that is, to be fired rather than to find a way to work through his concerns, according to attendees. The network and Weiss have not yet publicly addressed Pelley’s accusations of interference.
Bilton and Weiss say they respect the show’s traditions, its accomplishments and its legacy of enterprise reporting, extended interviews and visual storytelling. It rose in the ratings 9% over the past season under Simon.
The two news leaders say, however, 60 Minutes needs to be overhauled before it becomes increasingly irrelevant in the era of streamers and other sources of news, information and entertainment in the digital age.
Interviews with 12 current and former CBS News staffers, from producers to executives, suggest great reservations and suspicions remain about Weiss’ judgment and her ability to handle the prominent and even famous journalists on whom her division relies.
Weiss had initially sought to reinvent the CBS Evening News, dropping a two-anchor format that had sagged in the ratings. Cooper turned down Weiss’ overtures to anchor it and left the network altogether, concerned about her approach, according to associates. (They spoke on condition of anonymity because Cooper has not chosen to speak publicly on the matter.)
David Ellison became chairman and CEO of CBS’ parent company, Paramount, after buying it last year.
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Noam Galai/Getty Images for Paramount/Getty Images North America
The ratings have continued to sag under new anchor Tony Dokoupil. And some CBS journalists, including producers who have left the Evening News, have publicly accused Weiss of making editorial decisions driven by politics. She has rejected those claims.
The decision to take on overhauling two key shows — one listing, one highly profitable, both high profile — carries significant risks for Weiss and the network, even apart from other considerations.
But the Ellisons’ presence cannot be ignored.

When Shari Redstone was negotiating the sale of CBS’s parent company, Paramount, to the Ellisons’ Skydance Media last year, the network announced the end of Stephen Colbert’s late night show. He had been one of the president’s most biting and acerbic critics.
David Ellison also made a series of concessions directly to Trump’s chief broadcast regulator, Federal Communications Commission Chair Brendan Carr, gutting CBS’s diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives and appointing a conservative ombudsman to field complaints of bias against its news reporting.
Carr and other regulators approved the Paramount deal last summer.
The accommodations echo those made by other media titans.
Amazon and Blue Origin founder Jeff Bezos remade the editorial pages of the Washington Post, which he owns, into a far more hospitable zone for Trump at the outset of his second term. So did Los Angeles Times owner Dr. Patrick Soon-Shiong, a noted medical device inventor. Amazon and Blue Origin have multi-billion dollar contracts with the federal government. Soon-Shiong’s medical research firm routinely has patent applications up for review with federal regulators. One was approved Tuesday.
The Ellisons are hoping to win approval from federal regulators next month for their purchase of Warner Bros. Discovery in a deal valued at more than $110 billion. It would include Warner Bros. Studio, HBO and CNN, among other properties.
As Weiss routs CBS News’ old guard, the question of what role she might play at CNN — and what changes that portends at CBS — hangs over journalists at the two networks. The fate of 60 Minutes serves as a high-stakes case study for both.
Lifestyle
We’re having a main character summer. Are you? : It’s Been a Minute
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.”
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