What Goes Unseen
The Retaility’s founder explains what inspired this website.
By Lindzi Scharf
Photography by Michael Buckner
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. But I disagree.
Whoever uttered that age old adage died long before Instagram entered the picture.
Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate beautiful imagery as much as anyone who peruses Annie Leibovitz’s work. I love looking at immaculate homes that are nothing like my own and stunning outfits that whisk me away to another reality.
It’s why I genuinely enjoy getting dressed up to take pictures with my three-year-old daughter Evan and photographer husband Michael. We do it often. Not for others, but for ourselves. Sometimes self-care means getting gussied up with nowhere to go. Particularly during a pandemic.
But what do the images on our social media feeds really tell us about one another?
Our lives have become so curated that one has to wonder what the reality is behind each and every picture.
I’m no exception.
Unlike my Instagram feed, my iPhone is filled with images that remain burned into my memory regardless of how hard I try to forget them.
Photos that were taken in a number of hospital rooms to commemorate important moments with my daughter: the day she born; the day we learned she was deaf; the day she was diagnosed with a rare mitochondrial disorder at four months old; and the many days since as we navigate her present-day reality.
Some of the images that haunt me most include Evan’s first Christmas with a fuzzy pink stocking hung from a chrome-plated I.V. pole; a selfie my husband and I took with Evan, clad in a tiger hospital gown, in which our frozen smiles attempted to hide the fear in our eyes moments before doctors put her under anesthesia for a cochlear implant surgery to give her the ability to hear; a collection of photos of Evan donning tiny cotton balls and gauze on her head to hide electrodes and wires, which were used to track her brain waves for an epileptologist and neurologist.
But life is not without its humorous moments in between – and they’re just as important to memorialize. In fact, some of Evan’s medical experiences have inspired her Halloween costumes. Last year, she dressed as King George with a cotton ball wig while the previous year was inspired by Evan’s first white bonnet, which she used to wear to keep her cochlear implant devices in place.
“Is she Little Red Riding Hood?” several neighbors asked when they spotted her wearing a white cloak and red cape.
Upon learning the costume was in fact a Handmaid’s Tale reference, some neighbors looked downright horrified. “I believe there can be no light without shadow; or rather, no shadow unless there is also light.”
What can I say? My husband and I learned to defuse our fear with a dark sense of humor.
While I prefer not to dwell on the unpleasant, I also recognize the significance of capturing these pivotal moments for posterity. During the difficult times, it’s easy to forget that things can be good – just as the opposite is true. The good, the bad, and the ugly reality all serve as important reminders of our family’s journey together – and of Evan’s enduring, fighting, powerful spirit.
The truth is captured in every image we take of her. A closer look at any one of her photos might reveal small faded bruises from constant blood work; her g-tube, which is how we feed her; or her cochlear implant devices, which she wears at all times unless she’s asleep.
But no one looks that closely. So I write. To share Evan’s story. To feel less alone. To emphasize the genuine joy that Evan has brought into our lives just by being exactly who she is.
Her smile is the only version of magic I believe in. We work hard for each and every toothy grin, but they’re worth more than a Birkin bag.
However, as a result of becoming all too aware of the reality we present versus the reality we survive, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how to capture, preserve, and present truth while still celebrating joy.
Over the last year or so, I’ve explored this predicament by writing about Evan for the L.A. Times and Variety, two publications I’ve contributed to over the years. While I’d initially been apprehensive about sharing our story, to my surprise, I found strength and a greater sense of community by doing so. Thanks to the outpouring of kind words and support that followed, I eventually realized I wanted to create an outlet of my own – a space for open and honest storytelling. A place where we could strip back the artifice and discuss the reality of what goes on behind closed doors.
As a result, I launched The Retaility to offer a peek inside the homes, hearts, and minds of California creatives, designers, entrepreneurs, and anyone inspiring who is getting shit done against all odds. The site takes a look at people’s lives — and the things with which they surround themselves. The Retaility was founded with the belief that an aspirational lifestyle shouldn’t be limited to what you own — it should relate to the life you lead and the challenges you overcame to be who and where you are today.
(A writer’s version of math: Retail + Reality = Retaility.)
The site’s photography and profiles combine fantasy and reality. Escapism and the daily grind. The beauty and the bruises. Each subject on The Retaility has been kind enough to truly bare their souls for these pieces and I couldn’t be more grateful. I’ve found that while everyone’s story differs, the common thread is that we’ve all overcome obstacles to be in the positions we are. We don’t often discuss the bumps and bruises along the way, but it’s important to recognize that we all have them – whether we cover them with concealer is a personal choice; whether we share them on social media or keep them private is up to us. However, I personally have come to believe that revealing is healing.
I also believe there is a time and place for stunning imagery.
Just as one should find the time and place to read about what’s beneath a beautiful veneer. After all, sometimes it takes more than a photo or a thousand words to capture reality.