Breaking up is hard to do

But staying in something that doesn't serve you is even harder

This is an incomplete and perhaps incoherent collection of my thoughts now that we’ve publicly announced we’re closing our shop. It’s difficult to condense nearly two years into less than eight minutes of your time. I reserve the right to say things imperfectly, clarify my sentiments, and write more about this (or not) in future posts should the words flow like they did this evening.

PS: There’s a good chance this will be truncated in your inbox, so make sure to click on “View Entire Message” to read it in the Substack app. You don’t want to miss the details on our Break Up Bash party or a scholarship announcement for my latest offering.

People throw the word community around like it’s something created out of fairy dust, a simple manifestation of ideas. It’s something they want, but it’s not something they know how to, or are willing to work toward, creating.

That was my experience opening our retail store, Far Out, inside Reno Public Market.

I was wooed by the vision, this soon-to-be hub of creativity, arts, culture, events, comradery, and goodness. I believed this was the next big thing not only my business needed, but we could contribute to building.

I founded Coalition Snow, the proprietor of Far Out and the only women-owned and operated ski and snowboard manufacturer, as an experiment—what would happen when women did something they were not supposed to do in an exclusive, privileged men’s club? The entire premise of the business was to challenge the status quo, to offer an alternative to the way things were done, to illuminate the people who had been relegated to the margins.

After eight years in business, I wanted more for my small business. I wanted a full-time, year-round team. I wanted to reap the financial rewards we deserved. I wanted to step outside of snowsports and do something that tied together everything that was important to us—elevating and supporting other small businesses that were doing things differently in the industry, creating a safe space for people to feel seen, and redefining who is valued in an industry that has historically preferred able-bodied, wealthy, cis het white men.

Why I thought those very men would be the key to my castle is beyond my comprehension at this point. I was naive. I was foolish. I, per my usual self-destructive tendencies, placed far too much trust in people who had never demonstrated they’d do anything but operate in their own best interest¹.

As we emerged from the pandemic, tired and beat down and in absolute awe that I did not lose everything I had been building for decades, I followed all of the latest news about emerging trends for business. Reading newsletters, listening to podcasts, chatting with other business owners, and following the news is my idea of a good time, and it’s what you’ll find me doing most Saturday afternoons, Tuesday evenings, and most other times that other people are enjoying this thing called “downtime.”

The experts said experiential and immersive retail could elevate established, existing e-commerce and wholesale businesses. People wanted to shop IRL; they were exhausted by screen time and solitude. And they wanted more from brands than a sterile online experience. We were ready to give it to them.

We had looked at a few spaces, scouring Loopnet for the latest listings. We were preparing to sign an LOI for a space but when we learned it wouldn’t be open for more than a year, we asked about their other development: Reno Public Market. We had originally passed it over, as we couldn’t warehouse or fulfill our direct-to-consumer sales and purchase orders for large retailers like REI out of that space. But when we walked the then-under-construction project with ownership and learned what they were envisioning for the space, we felt aligned around creating something mutually successful in that space.

We signed the lease, knowing full well that the rent was high, but believed the exchange—what they would provide for that $10 to $20 more per square foot—would be worth it. So when it came time to start building out our space in August of 2022 and we were told we’d be the ONLY ones opening, we began to worry, and for good reason.

The food hall (I still hate that name but what else would you call it?) was delayed until January 2023, which meant we’d risk losing all of the fourth quarter, which is death to retail. We, along with Wandering Wyld, pulled together a make-shift holiday market in our hallway to salvage the holiday sale season. When the food hall did open, our sales skyrocketed and held relatively steady for a few months. But those initial concerns still lingered: there was no cohesion to the programming, the waste created in the food hall and bar through single-use plastic gave off Great Pacific Garbage Patch vibes, marketing for the retail was non-existent, and the anchor tenants—a brewery, a high-end restaurant, and larger established retail shops never materialized.

I’ve never advocated so hard for something I wanted so badly to be successful: meetings with ownership first once every few months, and then once every few weeks. Email after email documenting our concerns. Offers to assist with marketing and event planning. Advice on how to make the space more warm, welcoming, relevant to Reno, and ecologically sustainable. Coordinating and collaborating with the other retail shops in our “dead-end hallway,” a term we were not familiar with until ownership used it to describe our location more than a year after we opened. Every bit of effort we² put into our shops and the project as a whole felt like we were bailing water on a sinking ship, and the ship was the Titanic.

After the news broke that we’d be leaving Reno Public Market, a troll on Instagram wrote my shop was lackluster. I told her to pop on in and say it to my face. She didn’t have much to say after that.

After being told that big changes were coming, we decided to give it one more quarter, committing to “let’s wait and see” rather than “let’s burn this shit to the ground.” The changes to turn the project around never materialized, nor did the revenue we needed to be successful in that space.

So we started the excruciating process of closing our shop, which turns out isn’t as hard as we thought it would be. I’m in the middle of it right now, hence my inability to publish this newsletter on a regular schedule. But I’m happier than I’ve been in nearly a year. I’m finally at peace. I know I’m making a choice that may not be what capitalism tries to convince us is “success,” but it’s in line with my values.

I don’t believe any of the people in power at Reno Public Market are nefarious. They didn’t purposefully try to damage my brand or tank my business. They’re simply operating how society allows them to, and that’s the bigger problem, isn’t it³? What’s happening at this $57 million development in Reno is a microcosm of the failures of this world—capitalism co-opting community. And it—being the development and the closing of our shop—is inconsequential, insignificant, and irrelevant compared to what we’re really at risk of losing⁴. There are real crises engulfing this world, like multiple genocides and houselessness and food scarcity and wealth inequality. But let us not forget that all of it is driven by the same ethos—white supremastic, patriarchal, capitalism.

I’ve been told that I have been generous in my recount of my experience at Reno Public Market. I certainly could have said so much more, but what and who would that serve? I can feel generous toward them because they have been generous with me; I was allowed to break my lease, with no financial penalty. We are not on the hook for rent and triple net for five years. That was their way, I believe, in saying they are sorry. And that is good enough for me to walk away.

No one expected us to have this much fun with our dreams being crushed, but we are resilient, strong women! You won’t want to miss our going away party on Thursday, May 27th from 5 to 7 pm.

We want you to join us in celebrating the next chapter of our businesses.

Here's what we have in store for you:

• Complimentary drinks (some of which may be served by a lovely man to look at in jorts, TBD and keep your fingers crossed)

• Store-wide sales up to 40% off

• Card making station where you'll get all of the bad habits you need to break out on paper, and then we'll burn them at the end of the night in a final dumpster fire that will set us free

• Wrong Turn Raffle where you'll be entered to win all sorts of prizes, including one big ol' cup of tea!

Pre-register here today to receive one complimentary raffle ticket.

I have nine incredible humans joining me for my June offering, Straight Talkin’. I have one scholarship available for someone who would benefit but does not have the financial means to attend. DM me for details if this is you OR if you are someone who would like to gift a spot to someone.

Straight Talkin’ is simple, it's fun, it's productive, and it's designed for other purpose-driven entrepreneurs, creatives, freelancers, and dreamers. Over a one-hour 1:1 session with me and four one hour group Zoom sessions in June, we’ll:

• Create a fun and focused environment to refine, strengthen, and find clarity in our work.

• Harness the power of collective energy.

• Revel in the joy of our weekly progress.

• Share genuine encouragement and foster accountability.

Straight Talkin’ is for anybody who:

• Is working on something impactful that feels big and you're not sure how to get to the finish line. You might not even know where to start.

• Wants additional support and resources to speak their truth.

• Feels like they have really valuable things to communicate in a personal or professional setting but not sure how to best do that.

• Would benefit from gentle, compassionate accountability and additional structure.

• Looking for new connections and ideas from creative and clever people with shared values. 

How it works:

• You'll meet with me 1:1 in advance of our first session so I can learn about your goals, struggles, successes, and what you need from our time together to feel like every minute was worth your time, energy, and resources.

• Our small group will meet once a week on Wednesdays for four weeks at 4:30 pm PST, June 5, 12, 19, and 26 (recordings will be made available if you miss a session).

• Plus an optional (and easy) way to self-organize for whatever other support you might like from each other, including in-person adventures.

The cost is $145, and I am confident (I don't use the word guarantee because that feels a little bit sales-y but also I feel strongly about it), you will leave with clarity, motivation, and excitement about your 2024 goals, all with a new community of people to support you in your journey.

If this sounds fun, DM me! I do have one scholarship available, as well, if the cost is an issue. And if the dates or the time or the structure don’t quite work for you, feel free to reach out.

That’s it for me this week friends. Thank you for your time, your well wishes, and your kind words.

xxoo,

Jen

1. Stay tuned for a future post about wealthy people operating from a scarcity mindset, of not having enough, which results in them making their next millions off of the suffering of small businesses.

2. By we, I mean the four retail shops that are all closing at the end of this month, in addition to the other retail shop that closed the first week of May and the three vendors in the food hall, all to my surprise. Must be that we’re all that bad at business.

3. I’m definitely going to have to write more about this.

4. I should write more about that too…