The Ouchii Boutique when we were under construction. I believe this was 2015.
The best part about being an art teacher is seeing students’ creativity. I am constantly inspired by the talent that comes out of them, which in many ways makes me want to create too.
When I moved to Calero High School, that became my biggest struggle.
The kids themselves were great. However, many of the students there were attending because they were struggling to find success at their home schools for a multitude of reasons. Calero’s mission was to help those students recover credits and get back on track to graduate on time.
For many of them, I became their favorite teacher. I was the one they could talk to. I was the one who could help them focus a little more. While that felt meaningful, so much time was spent supporting students emotionally and behaviorally that very little art was actually being created.
And while I knew I was making a positive impact, the core component of what I loved most about being an art teacher was missing.
I needed a creative outlet.
So I started Ouchii.
The vision was simple and filled a void I felt wasn’t being met at the time: cute, childlike “kawaii” characters on adult-sized tees and lifestyle items. As a kid, I loved Sanrio. As an adult, I still loved it and couldn’t understand why nobody was really making stylish apparel for the adult audience that grew up with it.
So I struck while the iron was hot.
I created my own characters, and with the help of my brother, we got them printed.
Because of my student loan debt and low starting teacher salary, I was terrified of taking a huge financial risk. So I decided to start small.
I booked a table at the monthly De Anza Flea Market. The cost was $35. I figured if I made the money back, I wouldn’t feel too bad about trying.
The Ouchii Great Mall Pop Up. This is where we reached some of our biggest numbers. What a time.
That day, I made $700.
The feeling of selling your art like that was something I had never experienced before.
Eventually, I got a little braver. SJMade gave me an opportunity to participate in a month-long summer pop-up at the mall. Perfect. As a teacher, I was off during the summer anyway. I figured I could test it out for a month.
The cost was $1,500.
I was pretty confident I could at least recoup that amount.
That month, I made nearly $17,000.
I was elated.
From there, things escalated quickly. I negotiated my own leases and built out the first official pop-up boutique at Great Mall. Then came a second location at Westfield Valley Fair. Eventually, I opened a full brick-and-mortar boutique in Milpitas.
The Ouchii Valley Fair pop up boutique under construction.
At its peak, Ouchii employed anywhere from 8–12 people depending on the season. Every dollar I made went straight back into the business.
But eventually, the burnout hit.
I was still teaching full time while simultaneously trying to manage this growing business. It became overwhelming.
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had been afforded the luxury to step away from teaching temporarily and fully commit to growing Ouchii with investors or a business partner. Ultimately, I am a creative person first. I am not naturally a business person. I needed someone strong on that side of things.
And then… the pandemic happened.
Thankfully, I had already made the difficult decision to close the physical locations and focus primarily on online sales while trying to reclaim some much-needed time for myself.
Talk about timing.
Had we remained open during the pandemic, it honestly could have financially ruined me. The malls were incredibly difficult to navigate during that time, and many small businesses were devastated.
I am forever thankful for the Ouchii journey. This was the closest I ever felt to being a working artist in my life.
Over a five-year span at its peak, we sold well over a million dollars in Ouchii product. Seeing my characters printed on shirts, hats, sunglasses, stickers — all of it — was surreal. Even crazier was seeing people wear my designs all across the country. Tourists would buy things at the shop and take them back home, which slowly created customers everywhere. I’d receive photos from people wearing Ouchii in Hawaii, Texas, New York, Washington and, of course, all across California.
One moment I’ll never forget was at the airport in Las Vegas. A TSA agent recognized me as “the Ouchii Guy,” opened a new line for me and told me he loved my shirts. My sister was with me and immediately rolled her eyes because she knew I would never let that moment go.
And honestly? She was right.
That is how I got the nickname “the Ouchii Guy.” People would constantly approach me and ask if I was that Ouchii guy. What started as a small creative outlet during a difficult time in my teaching career slowly became a huge part of my identity.
Even now, long after the stores closed, Ouchii still feels like proof to myself that I really did create something meaningful.
Not bad for a kid who just liked cute stickers and Sanrio.
Shout out to my Ouchii team of kids. Man, these kids (now adults) really helped me steer this ship. Eternally grateful. I made sure they were taken care of and paid well.
Getting out there and doing street events was always on going.
