Jenni B

Every December, Monrovia does this thing where it quietly turns the clock back a few notches. The air gets a little cooler, the lights come on a little earlier, and people start walking Myrtle the way they used to, unhurried and half-lost in memory. Folks come home for the holidays and drift past familiar storefronts, checking to see what’s still there, what’s changed, and what somehow feels exactly the same.
That’s usually when they wander into Jenni B. Some haven’t been in town for years, but they step inside like muscle memory takes over, telling me where they used to park or which window display they remember from “back when.” December also brings the annual Christmas dress quest, which is equal parts excitement and mild panic. We try things on, tell stories, laugh a little, and eventually find the one that survives work parties, family dinners, and unsolicited opinions. And then there are the gift shoppers, bravely shopping for someone they love, phone in hand, hoping to get it right. After twenty-four years, I’ve learned that Christmas here isn’t about rushing. It’s about showing up, reconnecting, and keeping the feeling of this town alive, one visit at a time.

Some folks will swear up and down that nothing beats the Rose Parade, and bless them, they might be right for sheer spectacle. But me, I’ve always had a soft spot for our Monrovia Christmas Parade. There is something downright glorious about a parade where the mayor comes puttering down Myrtle in a classic car that looks like it’s seen more Christmases than Santa himself. The grand marshal is usually someone you’ve bumped into at Vons or borrowed a ladder from. And the parade lineup is half the town. You can’t swing a candy cane without hitting a neighbor waving from a homemade float.

Our daughter marched in it back in her elementary school days. She prepared like she was opening on Broadway. The night before, she laid out her little parade outfit the way some folks lay out wedding clothes. And when she stepped onto Myrtle Ave, she truly believed the eyes of the entire civilized world were upon her. She waved with the seriousness of a newly crowned queen, singing her heart out while her classmates tried not to trip on tinsel. For the rest of December, she would tell anyone who would listen that she was “in the parade,” saying it with such pride you’d think she’d been nominated for an Emmy.

That’s what small town parades do. They turn a chilly night into something warm. They make ordinary people feel extraordinary. They remind us that for one evening, Monrovia itself gets to shine like a little star on the foothills. And though the Rose Parade has its glory, give me the homemade floats, the slightly crooked banners, the high school band blasting their version of Here Comes Santa Claus . That’s the kind of magic you only find in a town like ours.

Here I am…one slice of pie away from my dress button launching across the room like a heat-seeking missile …already having to think about Black Friday. And listen… you could go to the mall to fight for parking like it’s the last lifeboat on the Titanic, only to wander fluorescent aisles looking for a sales associate who vanished in 2009. Or you could roll the dice with Amazon, where you click “buy” and hope what arrives vaguely resembles a sweater and not a cat bed for giants. Fast fashion is fast for a reason…it falls apart somewhere between Wednesday and the second wash. No names, no faces, no memories. Just cardboard, tape, and mystery.

But shopping in Old Town? That’s a whole different story. You stroll down Myrtle (or Lime 'wink'), bump into three people you know, stop for coffee, pet someone’s dog, and somehow end up chatting about who won the pie contest in ’14.

You come into Jenni B., touch real fabric, laugh with real people (me!), try things on with someone cheering you from the fitting room curtain like a friendly fashion coach. That’s what 24 years of small business feels like…human, warm, familiar.

So yes …we’ve got a great sale this Black Friday and Small Business Saturday (you bet we do!). But in the end, it’s really about the visit. About showing up, saying hello, keeping Monrovia alive one neighbor, one purchase, one shared moment at a time.
Hope to see you real soon!
Jenni B.

At Jenni B, our hearts are heavy as we witness the devastating fire impacting Los Angeles. We cannot begin to imagine the pain and loss so many are experiencing right now.

Selling things is not our priority right now. Our mission has always been to create a safe haven - a place where our community can gather, share stories, and support one another.

Today, we're opening our doors, not for business, but as a sanctuary. Whether the power is on or off, we're here. Come sit. Decompress. Take a moment. We'll listen.

We love to acknowledge The amazing Underdog Bookstore! Who is now serving as a drop-off and pick-up point for essential supplies. Additionally, the great City of Monrovia has opened the Community Center on Palm Avenue as a safe space for residents to charge phones and get a snack. And of course we must also salute the incredible bravery of our firefighters who are tirelessly battling the Eaton Fire. Their courage and dedication in the face of danger are truly inspiring. While we may not know when things will return to normal, we do know this: Monrovia is our home, and we're here for each other. Whether you need a place to sit, talk, or simply catch your breath, our doors are open! Together, we'll get through this.

We just love hearing the sweet stories that come through our doors, and yesterday, one of them really tugged at my heart in the most beautiful way. Two sisters walked in—so much more than just siblings, they were best friends. They told me about a dream they’d shared for years: a European getaway with their husbands. But life had other plans, and due to some unexpected changes, one sister had to cancel her part of the trip. Though both of them were heartbroken, the sister who still went on the trip made a wonderful gesture. She decided to go on her dream adventure —but not without bringing her sister along in a very special way. She brought a life-size photo cutout of her sister, and everywhere she went, she made sure to take photos with it, as if her sister was there by her side all along.

It was such a simple, yet deeply touching gesture—a beautiful reminder of the love and connection these two shared. Even though miles apart, their bond remained as strong as ever. It felt like love transcended distance in the sweetest way.

We are so grateful to these two amazing women for sharing their story with us. It’s moments like these that fill our hearts and remind us of the magic of friendship, family, and love that never fades.