In several of my recent columns, I have shone a little light on the people who quietly make Hermosa…well, Hermosa. The pioneer who dreamed up the city logo and launched the first Fiesta. The two Vietnam veterans who show up, rain or shine, to plan our Veterans Day ceremony and care for the memorial.
This week the spotlight shifts to a different kind of local hero, the kind who keeps our downtown vibrant by simply showing up, day after day, with grit and heart.
Meet Gina Rothwell, the force behind Sol Baby.
For 18 years, Sol Baby has been part of the fabric of Pier Avenue. Her storefront with tiny Hermosa trucker hats, “Poop Deck” onesies, and beach-inspired kids’ clothes make people stop and smile. But behind that creative window display is the far more complicated reality of running a small boutique in a beach town.
From my spot behind the counter, where I work two days a week, I’ve seen how much work it takes to keep the store going. Rothwell has weathered a recession, the pandemic, Amazon, and supply-chain chaos, yet the current climate, she says, may be the hardest she’s faced.
“I’m not gonna lie, I’m worried,” Rothwell said. “I have to go back a long time to compare my numbers to where they are now. I’m probably at COVID-year numbers.”
Before Sol Baby, she spent 23 years in corporate retail as a merchandise planner and buyer for LA Gear, BCBG, Guess, and Skechers. After her daughter Kaiya was born, she couldn’t find baby clothes that matched her lifestyle, edgy, cool, rock-and-roll inspired pieces. That gap in the market sparked her idea.
In 2007, while working in a wholesale shoe business on 9th Street, she spotted a 70-square-foot storage unit renting for $450 a month. “I didn’t have a car payment,” she said. “I thought, I can swing that.” She turned what was essentially a closet into the first Sol Baby, building a following through preschool events, local ads, and a lucky LA Magazine write-up.
The Early Days : Gina's original location on Hermosa Avenue
Two years later, she moved into her current Pier Avenue location, in the former Either Or Bookstore building. “Overnight, I had to buy triple the inventory,” she said. She put the expansion on low-interest credit cards. Then the economy crashed, her rate spiked, and she found herself $30,000 in debt.
“Little by little, I chipped away at it,” she said. “But that was a big hurdle.”
Today, she still handles almost every aspect of the business, buying, bookkeeping, online sales, inventory, and displays. Her husband Dave, a former Toyota designer, now works with her full-time, creating the Hermosa-themed graphics that have become Sol Baby signatures.
They sell to retailers like upscale LA boutique Kitson, and through Etsy and Amazon. And they’ve added an upcycled section to meet the growing demand for quality secondhand clothes.
But the bigger challenge, Rothwell says, isn’t her business model, it’s the environment around her.
“Downtown is a ghost town during the day,” she said. “Manhattan and Redondo have more retail, which draws people. Retail feeds retail.”
She also pointed to what she views as unnecessary barriers. Her sign cost $1,000 and took months to approve. Other small business owners, she said, share similar stories about slow-moving permits and approvals. And every December, Hermosa’s small retailers find themselves pleading with the city to cover parking meters during the holidays, something neighboring cities do automatically to help support local shops during their most critical season.
“As a business owner in town who would like to see more spaces filled, I would hope they’re fast-tracking any business that wants to open and not making them jump through hoops,” she said.
In the 1960s, Sol Baby was a woman’s clothing store called Tu’ U, owned by Helen Zinn, the grandmother of longtime Hermosa Beach resident Cindy Whitehead. PHOTO : Whitehead Family Archives
She believes Hermosa could bolster its retail environment with simple, targeted changes. She would love to see more daytime events to pull shoppers downtown, better use of the Pier Avenue promenade for things like a farmers’ market, more flexible festival rules so families can enjoy food, beer, and music together. The city could also recruit interesting retailers to fill empty storefronts.
“People love Sol Baby,” Rothwell said. “But if they want us, and other small stores to be here, they have to support us. Because once a small business disappears, it doesn’t come back.”
Despite it all, Rothwell refuses to give up. She works late nights doing bookkeeping, early mornings rearranging displays, and fills the hours in between with steady, focused effort.
“You can’t just check out after the day is done,” she said. “You’re constantly thinking about things.”
In a town that prides itself on character, Sol Baby remains one of the spots that still feels uniquely Hermosa, creative, personal, sun-soaked, and built on someone’s actual dream. And if we want shops like Sol Baby, curious... and Details to stay part of our daily landscape, we have to show up for them the way they’ve shown up for us.
I’m Elka Worner, a community volunteer, City Commissioner, journalist, and Hermosa Beach local. I was raised here, and I’ve had the joy of raising my daughter in this amazing town.
Elka Worner
Elka Worner
Elka Worner
