OUR PLANT PPL . In Chain, We interview people of color in the plant world. If you have suggestions for getting ppl involved, tag us on Instagram @latimesplants.
Nearly two years after opening their mobile plant shop Pasadena Roots—a terracotta-toned trailer so delightful it’s often mistaken for an ice cream truck—Vilma Alvarado, 55, and their daughters Wendy, 30, and Cindy, 34 , are convinced about one thing: community affairs.
There’s a lot going on in Los Angeles, says Wendy, a high school English teacher and proud first-generation Latina.
“Being outside and selling plants on the streets has allowed us to make connections and meet many wonderful human beings from all walks of life,” she says. “Plants continue to allow us to grow as individuals and connect with our community through a completely different lens. We are able to learn about the experiences and stories of others through plants.”
Wilma Alvarado, left, and her daughters Cindy and Wendy, right, at a pop-up outside Car Artisan Chocolate in Pasadena.
(Sylvia Razgova / for The Times)
Twenty-five years ago, when Wilma and her husband, Edwin, left Guatemala in search of a better life in Los Angeles, they found themselves without a job – a strange position for a woman who had been running her own juicery in a central city. The market was owned and operated.
Eventually, she found work cleaning the house while raising her three children, including Edwin Jr., but like so many domestic workers in LA, her job vanished in 2020 with the spread of the coronavirus.
“Not working was so hard,” she says now. “One of my clients felt so bad when he fired me, he gave me a $1,000 bonus.”
There is a close relationship between Wilma and her daughters. When the world shut down during the pandemic, it served as an opportunity for them to find solace together in the plants.
“There was nothing we could do, but we could do some social distancing and replant the plants and swap the plants and cuttings,” says Wendy. “We would post plant stuff on our personal Instagrams and people started asking us for advice and where to buy plants.”

A customer checks out the plants at a recent Pasadena Roots pop-up.
(Sylvia Razgova / for The Times)
As his interest in plant material grew, he began to wonder if he was onto something. Wouldn’t it be great, they wondered, if they could turn their love of plants into a business?
His first Plant pop-up was a more cautious experiment than a serious retail effort. After a walk around Highland Park, he set up a table and tent and sold the various plants he bought with Wilma’s bonus. (“She planted a seed,” Wilma now says of the woman who gave her the gift.) They were overwhelmed by the positive response. “People were working from home and were so excited to see a pop-up plant shop in the middle,” Wendy says.

A Swiss Cheese Plant (monstera adansoni) at Pasadena Roots.
(Sylvia Razgova / for The Times)
Slowly, Wilma’s dream of becoming a small business owner again was coming true. In January 2021, they held their first official event at the Cervecería del Pueblo, also in Pasadena, after hosting a pop-up inside the Mercadito Monarca shop in Pasadena.
After being closed for months during COVID-19, the brewery sold out the beer, and the plants were headed out the door. “Everyone was so excited,” Wendy says.
Last March, the women decided they needed to “step up their performance game.” It was challenging to overgrow the delicate plants, but they were unwilling to invest in a brick-and-mortar store. When they saw a cargo trailer on OfferUp, they knew they had got their prayers answered and headed to Long Beach to buy a black cargo trailer, which they affectionately referred to as “la chula” (the cutie), for $5,000. – their entire business savings.

Ani Mouradian recently bought a snake plant from Wendy Alvarado in a pop-up.
(Sylvia Razgova / for The Times)
Working together as a family, including Edwin Sr. and Edwin Jr., they brightened up the trailer with new flooring, a pop-out window, a pink neon sign, and whimsical floral wallpaper. He then painted the exterior a festive terracotta hue to make it pop on the streets of LA, and hired Compton muralist Mel Dipaz to decorate the truck with trailing ferns, monstera leaves, and anthurium.
“The stars aligned,” Wendy says. “It felt like the right next step. It’s our pride and joy.”
Like the taco trucks that have LA’s food scene, the trailer gave them the freedom to participate in pop-ups across the city, whether outside Gennaro Neutral in Echo Park or the Good Mood Creative Space in El Sereno.
“The women of Pasadena Roots are a gem in our community and we love supporting them in any way we can,” says Erica Gutierrez of Mercadito Monarca. “As BIPOC- and women-owned businesses, we support and uplift each other. We plan to continue collaborating with them on events this year.”
Last November, nearly two months after meeting Daniel Buejo, co-founder of the Los Angeles brand Kids of Immigrants on Sunset Boulevard during a weekend pop-up, he, along with 12 other BIPOC small-business owners, asked him to sell them. invited to Products at the Kids of Immigrants booth at ComplexCon, a popular streetwear trade show in Long Beach. Although it was advertised as a children’s booth for immigrants, Buejo chose not to sell anything and instead chose to spotlight other Los Angeles businesses, including Alvarados, who planted plants inscribed with “Proud of My Roots”. , sold utensils and totes, which he designed with the children of immigrants.
The opportunity was much more than just an opportunity to network: The exposure led to an astonishing $5,000 grant for all 13 participants of UPS, a company investing in small businesses in need of support.
Thanks to the grant, the money covered La Chula’s purchase, and the family had money once again in their business account.
“We wanted the message to be that we can come together and support each other within our communities,” Buejo says. “Pasadena Roots started a business from scratch during the pandemic, and they are doing it as a family. The fact that Cindy and Wendy are doing it with their mom is very touching. As another first generation immigrant, I can relate to what they are going through. We can help each other in many different ways, and that’s what we built at ComplexCon. For us, it was more about the community than the competition. ,
Looking back, it seems unbelievable to Alvarados that they are street vendors. Still they are grateful. They know that people can buy plants at big-box stores and appreciate that Angelenos choose to shop with them.

Watermelon peperomia and prayer plants in pots for sale at Pasadena Roots.
(Sylvia Razgova / for The Times)
“People want to support Latino and Latina-owned businesses,” Wendy says. “We are a first generation Latino immigrant and have a very strong relationship with our parents. People recognize what we are going through.”
Wilma is eloquent when she talks about her gratitude for the community. “There are so many people from all different backgrounds who are willing to help and support our small business,” she says. “I’ve gained the confidence to step out of my comfort zone and work with other communities.”
She also reminded the importance of family. “I couldn’t have done it without them,” she says of her daughters. “Whether it’s posting on Instagram or buying plants, there’s always someone to pick up the slack.”
In the meantime there are more pop-ups to plan, including one at Edwin Jr.’s cellphone store in Pasadena. They also expect to host a “Support Your Neighbor” event in April based on Buejo’s inclusive community-first business model.
At a recent sidewalk sale outside Car Artisan Chocolate in Pasadena, Cindy drew on what she’s learned over the past two years.
“Running a small business requires a lot of work and consistency, but it’s worth giving your dreams a chance,” she says. “You’ll never know until you try. I’ve learned to trust the process of growth in all areas of my life, and I’m so grateful for all the support we’ve received from our community over the past two years.” To be honest, I don’t feel like working.”
For pop-up dates, consult @pasadenaroots on Instagram.