Some Brands Hibernate (And That’s the Point)

I’ve never been interested in running my brands like workhorses.
Always on. Always producing. Always pushing.

That’s never made sense to me—energetically, financially, or creatively.
I’ve seen too many businesses burn out trying to stay visible every single day.
They confuse constant motion with health.
I know better.

Some of my brands are meant to be seasonal.
They come alive when the timing is right, when the soil is ready, when the collective mood shifts and they’re suddenly relevant again in a way that feels almost magnetic.

Others stay quiet for months at a time. They’re not failing. They’re resting.
Soaking up everything they need to be potent when it matters.

It’s not lost on me how noisy the world is right now.
How many brands are screaming just to be noticed—more posts, more launches, more urgency.
But I value something else entirely.
I value the process.
I value curation.
I value thinking long enough about what I’m offering that it feels inevitable by the time it arrives.

The way I build doesn’t always look ambitious from the outside.
It looks slow.
It looks spacious.
It looks like taking whole seasons off from pushing a particular brand because I’m busy tending another, or simply because I’m more interested in going on long walks and listening to what wants to come through next.

That’s not inefficient. That’s design.


Wild & Tame has a natural rhythm—thriving in spring when people start planting again, reawakening in fall for porch styling and cozy rituals.
Feast with Fiore grows loud in summer and winter, when gatherings matter most.
Velvet Voltage pulses year-round, but still has its waves—stronger during launches, quieter when artists are deep in their private work.
Dark Posie Soirée is intentionally rare. It needs to be. Otherwise it would lose the sense of ceremony that makes it powerful.

I rotate them like a farmer moves crops.
Nothing gets depleted.
Everything has its season to bloom, to be cut back, to compost and become rich enough for the next cycle.


This approach isn’t for everyone.
Some people need the constant dopamine of daily engagement.
I need something slower, deeper, more connected to the actual way life unfolds.

Because here’s what I know for sure:
When my brands do show up, they’re charged.
Rest has made them sharper, more enticing, more honest.
People can feel that.
They can tell when something is coming from abundance instead of desperation.

I don’t want my work to be a permanent neon sign.
I want it to be like spotting the first poppies of spring—sudden, vivid, undeniable, proof that something worth waiting for has returned.