There are some of you who have been reading this newsletter for close to 8 years, which sounds crazy as I type it out! 8 years ago, I launched a fashion brand called Rallier. I was 20-something, living in Greenwich Village with my boyfriend, and about to put something into the world that started as a small voice in my head. I had convinced incredibly talented people to work with me (Harin Yang, Melissa Conner - hi if you’re reading this!) I was hopeful and sincere and probably naive. A wild thing happened next: it worked. We hit our sales goals, got the best press, women were wearing the pieces and loving them. It wasn’t just Rallier. I got engaged, married, moved to my beloved Brooklyn, and had the baby girl of my dreams. Everything was working until one day it wasn’t. Sales slowed. Costs kept coming. It wasn’t just Rallier. Covid hit. Playground doors locked. My clean shaven husband had a beard.
It was 2020 when my daughter turned 1. I woke up early, put on my mask, packed my hand sanitizer and anxiously walked to 7th avenue to pickup yellow and pink balloons. I remember feeling like the balloons were really important. Probably because they were there to replace people. It was sinking in that my business wasn’t working. At the same time, my husband was taking a company public. In peak girlboss era, I realized that I was becoming a stay-at-home mom. I should have felt like a failure. But, I really didn’t. I was proud to be taking care of my daughter. And for the first time, that proud feeling had nothing to do with anyone else’s opinion. I felt free.
2020 would have been the perfect time to shut Rallier down. But something stopped me: I loved talking to you. So instead of talking to you about my own brand, I talked to you about other beautiful brands I found. I talked to you about change, growth. I talked to you about motherhood. I discovered an ease in writing to you, an ease I didn’t have when I was making clothes for you. It felt natural. Like the feeling I get when I’m working on a puzzle and the tricky piece finally clicks.
I watched, with surprise, as this new place slowly came to life. As it grew, the name Land of Oaks and Roses quietly, patiently floated around in my head. I love that it sounds like a book. I love that it’s a place. It sounds like home to me (Oak and Rose are my kid’s middle names.) I was outside with my kids when I randomly looked up and asked for a sign about the new name. I looked back down and watched my two kids skip down a tree-filled path, lost in a world of their own magic and make-believe. Then my daughter asked, “What’s this pretty land?”
So welcome (back) to Land of Oaks and Roses. I hope it’s a place that makes you feel free too. Connected too. More likely to let go, and listen to something just because you love it. In 2020 when I started writing to you, I shared a Gloria Steinem quote. It feels just as right today: “We all need words that tell our own story. I hope you find some here.”
With much love,
Olivia
How beautiful to have this space be a tribute to P&S. I've loved all the newsletters, but this one in particular as you say, truly gave me the words to tell my own story. I'm two weeks into my new Stay at Home Mom Life and am pleasantly surprised to report that I did not experience the massive identity crisis that I had anticipated. I couldn't quite put my finger on the what exactly I've been feeling until I read this entry and gasped.
It's PRIDE.
I'm so proud to be present for my littles and care for them with my best energy and biggest heart. It is a sated pride that I never experienced in the workplace, which is probably why I could not articulate it!
Thank you, Olivia, for giving me the words and for continuing to give visibility and framing to these universal experiences.
💜
Congratulations on this new chapter. When I read the "Welcome to...", I immediately thought it sounded like a novel, too. Thanks for continuing to share your perspective with us!