My grandmother was a very fashionable woman. When I look at photos of her from before, I’m reminded of a time when things seemed a bit more glamorous and refined. Even as she aged and eventually came to live with us on O’ahu, she still had distinctive taste in clothing. Buying her a “simple top” was a bigger feat than you would think. She was meticulous and wanted things a certain way . . . but as she got older, finding pieces that fit her the right way became harder and harder. She was constantly on the search for a top that wasn’t a “crewneck” t-shirt, but with a neckline that wasn’t so big it would show her heart surgery scar. Small details that were important to her. Details that made her feel good about herself.
When I think about my own journey and how I got here, I’m always reminded of those who came before me . . . my grandma, my mom, my sister. The women who shaped me in so many ways. From before I can even remember, I would join my mother in dressing rooms. She’d be trying on clothing, and maybe I was somehow intuitively picking up on all of the frustrations she was experiencing. Sitting on her bedroom floor watching her get dressed, piles of clothing on the floor . . . it’s a memory that is embedded into who I am, and who I’ve become.
The collective frustration of women, I guess . . . even from a young age, I understood it. It’s the single thread that connects us all. It connects me to my grandmother, to my mom, even to my sister. My sister was always a taller, longer version of me. Her 5'6" frame always looked better in my clothing than my own 5'2" frame did. But she struggled too. Her wider hips made her proportions difficult, and even though to me she looked amazing, I could always sense her frustration as well.
You could say it was my calling from an early age . . . to know the frustrations of women. To see them, feel them, and then to experience them for myself. It’s what binds me to you and this community in a deeper way. It’s the single thread woven throughout our experiences. But it shouldn’t be a frustration . . . what if the single thread that connects all of us could be one of joy, ease and freedom? What if the single thread that connects all of us is a sense of acceptance, a positive relationship with our clothing and our bodies?
This is my hope, my dream to one day achieve. To replace the thread of frustration with a sense of relief, of acceptance, of coming home to a body that finally feels good. Intuitively, I knew when my grandma found the perfect shirt (which she would, of course, buy at least two of) or when my mom found the pants that made her feel amazing. That sigh of relief and comfort . . . I felt it then and I understand it now. It’s why I continue to do what I do, in a way that few have tried before.
This is what these last couple of months of 2026 are all about for me. Finally accepting and finding the thread. Allowing myself to follow it all the way back to my ancestors, and then bringing it forward into moments with my own daughter. The stories, the struggles, the pain and the healing . . . it’s what binds us all together, because none of us are alone in it.
So this Black Friday, I went back into the archives. I brought a few styles back into the present and mixed them with pieces of the moment, and of the future of Allison Izu. Styles that could bring joy not only to my family and friends, but to yours as well.
We’ve been working to bring a full assortment of fabrics, styles and colors to make this our best Black Friday event ever. Call it a culmination of all of my learning over the years, not only as a designer and entrepreneur, but as a daughter, granddaughter, sister and friend. Because it’s the communities and relationships we build that make us whole and complete . . . and the most important of these relationships is the one we create with ourselves.
I’m excited to share these next few collections with you . . . to honor the single thread that connects all of us. This thread of frustration that can finally lead us to acceptance.
-Allison
