Here it is the cold of winter (well, as cold as it has been in Southern California), and I just realized I didn’t post pics from my summer trip to Maui. I guess I have summer on the brain. My last trip to Maui
was a vintage disappointment to me as I just couldn’t get my sweaty body, tropically-enhanced frizzy hair, and sunburned skin in the mood to pretend to want to live out my Hawaiian vintage dreams. This time I just decided to dress like a normal person from the get go and stop trying so hard to look vintage perfect. Tank tops? I wore them. Cargo pants (I don’t do shorts, usually)? Yep. Bathing suits? Gulp, sure (no photo evidence, though.) Guess what? The vintage wardrobe police didn’t strike me down with pitchforks made of hair picks and bindings made of last season’s too tight girdle garters. And I had a grand time.
However, I did take an hour to slip on a 20s dress for a vintage-esque photo shoot at our favorite photo spot in Makena. I couldn’t bear making my boys wear suits in that heat, so they just went in shirt sleeves. While the perfectionist in me is tempted to say, look at her hair, where is his jacket, what happened to the shoes, I quietly strive to squash that little monster like a bug and enjoy our photos for what they are – a wonderful snapshot in time of my very blessed family.
Maui is so varied in that you can go from the Mediterranean conditions on one coast, to the lava formations and black sand beaches sheltered by rain forests on another.
As hokey as they can be, I love to go to luaus to get a little hula fix. This time around, the photos are, ahem, masculine.
We have a little tradition in Hawaii of trying to capture each sunset of our trip that we can on film. They are all so beautiful.
My vintage thoughts were not far from me in our ventures from home as we took the long trip on the twisting road to Hana, along the nail-biting one-lane roads of Kipahulu to the Palapala Ho’omau church and graveyard where Charles Lindbergh, the famed aviator, is buried. He spent his last years in Kipahulu. His grave, near the cliffs at Kipahulu, is simple, given his stature.
When I danced hula many years ago, I danced to a song talking about Kipahulu. As a mainland dancer, you often don’t get to experience the spirit of the places you dance about. You learn the lyrics, both Hawaiian and English. You try to convey the emotion in your expression as if you know what you are talking about. However, not having visited the place, the dance is left a little plain. I now know about Kipahulu.
E nanea ho`i kau
Hale kipa ho`okipa
E na malihini
Such a delight
For the many visitors,
A house to call at and be welcomed
Along with the many guests.
A hui hou