Boardroom Burnout with Boutique Dreams

About a year ago my friend and I were reminiscing about our early twenties when we worked retail together. For several years, we spent endless shifts styling mannequins, playing Tetris with window displays, and trying on jewelry all while listening to that one song on repeat for just the right ambiance. In the early years it was Charlotte Church and Michael Bublé, slowly morphing into more mainstream pop music over time. At the time, it felt like a phase. A good story. A stepping stone. Just a fun little detour on our way to “real careers.”

At the time of this exchange, we were both in our “real careers.” Sensible corporate jobs, a never ending stream of video calls and production meetings, and enough corporate red tape to make your soul flicker. Don't get me wrong - we're grateful. We worked hard to get there because it is what we thought we were supposed to do. But sometimes (read: often), we each look back on those boutique days and think… What if that was the good part? We both missed it. Not just the clothes or the discount, but the feeling.

What if the magic wasn't in moving up, but in being there. The creativity. The spark.

In my early corporate career, when I still loved the grind and felt a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day because I had actually worked, I chased manufacturing gigs where I could get my hands dirty, wear a million hats, and love the final product that we made because I personally felt the struggle that went into it.

As time passed, it became increasingly difficult to find places where all of that energy could go. I’m a fixer and a doer, but not everyone wants or is ready to be “fixed” my way.

For me, this store is a nod to finding connection to something. To working with your friends. To the thrill of unboxing new arrivals. To the simple joy of helping someone find just the right gift. It is for anyone who’s ever daydreamed about unsubscribing from the 9-to-5 life and opening a cute shop with twinkle lights and good vibes.

It's never too late to pivot. A leap back into the world that once felt like a “phase” but turned out to be the one of the first things that we loved. Sometimes the "dream job" looks a lot more like our early twenties than you expected. Maybe it looks like a lot more like a little bit of retail therapy.

With love while we’re still holding onto our favorite spreadsheets,

The Jonquies Team