I could lie and tell you everything is amazing and that I'm having the time of my life.
But that’s never been my M.O.
This new endeavor is STRESSFUL. And EXPENSIVE.
Let me start by saying that I haven’t taken out any loans to open this new part of my business. At this point, I’m operating on a lot of adrenaline, optimism and probably a little delusion.
Why?
Because I had already spent a lot of money—and used a lot of credit—buying inventory and fixtures for my “microshop,” aka Painted Tree Boutiques. Then that closed, and suddenly I was spending more money on a storage unit to hold all the extra inventory and fixtures I had accumulated.
But in my mind, I was thinking, “It’s all good. Market season is about to start, and market season never disappoints.”
Well.
Ohio had other plans.
The weather this market season has been DISASTROUS. Between heat waves and raining cats and dogs, it has been the slowest market season we’ve ever had.
Meanwhile, I still needed to spend money on new and seasonally appropriate merchandise.
And that leads us to where we are today.
So, what have I learned?
First, I’ve learned that I have to introduce myself all over again.
This mall has no idea who I am, where I came from or what Jamison & Bexley was before these doors opened. I’m basically building brand awareness from scratch with an entirely new audience.
I’ve also had to learn how to merchandise a store so that it can sell itself.
And, to be honest, I think I did a pretty damn good job.
A stroller can move through the store with ease. It isn’t overcrowded with merchandise. Moms have a private place to nurse or change their babies. Toddlers can sit, read and play while their parents shop.
Compared to stores like Janie and Jack and Carter’s, I feel good about where my pricing sits. More importantly, I offer a completely different product assortment—and something this mall doesn’t already have.
I’ve had customers shop those stores and then come into mine, appreciate what I’ve created, use the family room, shop—or sometimes just explore.
I’ve watched kids run up to the giraffe I strategically placed outside my door, give it a hug and then leave without buying a damn thing.
Rude.
But also adorable.
Overall, it has genuinely been a fun experience, and I’m excited to see what this store can become.
But let's get into the things I was NOT prepared for.
I’ve learned that after about 6:30 p.m., my potential customer starts disappearing from the mall.
Which makes perfect sense.
They have small children. They’re home feeding them, bathing them, negotiating with someone who suddenly hates the blue cup even though the blue cup was their favorite cup yesterday.
This has also confirmed why I stopped doing night markets. My customer has somewhere else to be at night.
Then there’s loss prevention.
I’m in a group chat with other store managers, and the amount of times my phone goes off with a photo or description of someone who just ran out of a store with merchandise is TERRIFYING.
Those stores are corporations.
Those managers are still getting a paycheck every two weeks.
If someone runs out of my store with merchandise, that money comes directly out of my pocket.
And the real kicker?
I still have to pay the credit card bill for the merchandise they stole.
Cute.
And then burnout showed up.
Burnout snuck its evil little head into my life the other night.
Being the only full-time employee means I'm here basically every day until I can afford to hire more people.
Looking at my numbers right now, technically, I can't even afford the employee I already have.
But I also can't afford not to have her.
She is a necessary expense because I physically cannot do all of this by myself.
And speaking of expenses...
WHY ARE ALL THE NET 60 TERMS DUE AT THE SAME DAMN TIME?!
Because the money in my bank account?
Ain't mathing.
Right now, I'm stressed about how I'm going to make payroll next week for my young employee.
I'm stressed about how I'm going to pay the $600+ Net 60 invoice due next Friday.
My July sales tax is due in three days.
And then there’s rent.
You know...just a few minor things.
If this were anyone else talking to me, I’d probably say, “Girl, you need a small business loan.”
Meanwhile, I can already imagine the banker pulling my credit report, slowly taking off their glasses and saying:
“Ma’am...how are you going to ask us for money when you can't pay back the credit you already used?”
And you know what?
They’d be right.
Any normal person would probably also ask:
“Why would you open a store if you didn't have the money to open a store?”
Valid question.
But this was one of those once-in-a-lifetime opportunities that slid into my DMs. And I knew that if I said no because the timing wasn't perfect, I might never get the opportunity again.
So I said yes.
Was it financially responsible?
We’ll circle back.
Was it the wrong time for my doctor to try lowering my anxiety medication?
ABSOLUTELY.
I’m sure everything will work out in the end.
But I don't want to write this six months from now, after everything has magically worked itself out, and pretend I gracefully navigated the whole thing with a vision board and a positive attitude.
Because right now—August 20, 2026 at 2:43 p.m.—I am stressed.
I am panicking.
And no, I don't need thoughts and prayers.
I need a miracle.
Or a sugar daddy.
I need the rest of market season to be rain-free. I need shoppers outside, wallets open, ready to buy all this inventory. And then I need them to come directly to my store and do it again.
So, the TL;DR version of what I’ve learned so far as a brick-and-mortar store owner?
Don't lower your anxiety meds when you open a retail store. You're gonna need the full prescription.

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