10 Years in St. Louis
Packing up a rental car in NYC, June 2014
The end of June marked my ten-year anniversary in St. Louis.
If you had told me eleven years ago that this is what my life would look like today, I’m not sure I’d believe it. Living in my adopted city for a decade, I’ve come to learn a great deal about myself and the impact of community, friendship, entrepreneurship, and the reciprocity of showing up.
As a 25-year-old, there was plenty of daydreaming about the future with aspirations for satisfaction, financial footing, and a place of inclusion. Like many people in their twenties, omnipresent was the roller coaster of emotions, navigating relationships, putting in the hours, and the ping-ponging of self-perception.
I’ve written previously about paying off my student loan debt, fractured family dynamics, and what it took for me to finish college. This was the early aughts, the time that followed, a starting point for building a foundation for the rest of my life.
As we dive in, it’s key to know that Mark (my now-husband) and I met randomly at a bar in downtown NYC on my birthday in 2013 while he was visiting family and friends. As an undergrad and entrepreneur, he decided to stay in the Midwest and start his second business in 2012. He’s why we call St. Louis home.
After nine months of dating, I quit my job, packed up my basement apartment on 90th and Lexington, and together, we drove the 15 hours west. I left behind a big, bright city that, until then, had been the center of my universe and on to a new habitat where I didn’t have a job or support network beyond Mark.
My life up to that point was consolidated to fit into a Dodge Caravan.
For the first 18 months in my new hometown, I was simultaneously happy and miserable. I didn’t have the self-awareness to comprehend life’s duality. I did, however, watch all six seasons of Sex and the City—twice.
Community
By year two, I eventually woke up each morning enough times to realize I could choose my happiness or my internal misery. The former was inevitably embraced wholeheartedly.
It was hard.
But that didn’t stop me. I was back into events and marketing creative work. Met new people. Started volunteering and getting involved with non-profits. I began to feed my soul by tapping into the connective tissue of this region. I’ve learned so much about the power of generosity. Throughout my childhood, there were peaks and valleys of this kind of exposure to community. St. Louis has taught me what it really means.
There are terrific assets in our region, starting with Forest Park (where if you follow my IG you see my running “views” frequently in the mornings) to the St. Louis Art Museum (where I am privileged to spend my free time as a volunteer), the Gateway Arch (love a good modern design), all of the phenomenal restaurants, our new soccer team, world-class universities, medicine, and research centers, and so much more. It’s worth speaking of them repeatedly because they’re our backyard. Our playground. We have the chance to be the custodians. A responsibility not to be overlooked.
Though things might be harder to find here, or that may just be the perception, you have to do the work to discover. You have to put yourself out there while being open. That’s a scary place to be. But no risk reaps no reward. And no city offers immunity to this.
St. Louis would be better if... "Everyone who came here was greeted as warmly as I've been."
Last year, the St. Louis Business Journal recognized me as one of the “Most Influential Business Women.” To be clear, awards don’t define me. I am, however, deeply grateful for the acknowledgment and the opportunity to connect with hardworking women. This is significant because it signals a mutuality of service that is less about what I’ve accomplished and participated in and more about what I choose to do with it tomorrow and the next day.
Friendships
When Mark and I first met, he asked me if I had any friends, which, if you know me now, is laughable. In NYC, I isolated myself frequently; consumed by resentment and shame while wrestling with meaningful relationships because two of my most important ones (i.e., my parents) were crumbling.
During this early period of choosing to be present and create my life in St. Louis, I had to learn how to date again. Friend date, that is. Going on enough first dates can teach you the skills and bravery to keep going on them, or it totally shuts you off from wanting to pick up and try again. I almost think it’s harder to find friends than a mate.
Being vulnerable with people you’ve just met is terrifying. But deep connection is at our core—it’s where quality relationships spark and longevity of joy exists. We’re struggling with this as a nation-community more than ever (i.e., loneliness), which is why it’s so pressing to act. Even, and especially, when it’s uncomfortable.
One of my closest friends and I met by happenstance at a museum event about seven years ago. We sat beside one another without any outside introduction and had a hilarious conversation. We exchanged numbers, but months passed, and no follow-up either way.
Eventually, we ran into each other at another community event and hung out all night. The next morning, her husband texted us on a group chat and said we had a month to get together; otherwise, he would intervene again. And there started a deeply special friendship with someone I laugh my socks off with, learn from, admire, and respect.
I feel so lucky to have solid relationships with a handful of friends with whom we have our own first-date stories that stand up next to this one. Today, when I pause and think about it, I feel an overwhelming sense of love. St. Louis has given me many of the best friendships of my life.
Entrepreneurship
My business was born on the impetus of my strong desire to help one woman feel really great about herself at one point throughout her day. This is still the case today, but it applies to everyone. My north star coincided with the belief that my friend, mentor, and first client had in me—what she saw in me—my eye. I have this community to thank for bringing us together. I have our friendship to thank for what she still teaches me to this day.
She sat with me for breakfast in late 2017. I was experiencing burnout before burnout was a buzzword. She asked me what I wanted to do with my time and career.
Quickly, we got down to mapping out a wardrobe styling business. Growing up as an athlete who oscillated in academic performance and had inconsistent adult supervision, I had told myself for years that “I didn’t have the pedigree to work in fashion.” But it was always a source of inspiration and creativity, constantly drawing me in from all angles. Fun fact: I had attempted to start a blog circa 2010 called Classy a la Mode (oh, the trappings of 21-year-old Laura). I stopped before I even gave myself a go at it.
When it came down to it, this would be my chance to step into what I wanted to be doing and what others saw as my skill and potential. Launching this business in St. Louis bolstered my early success. I tapped into my community and friendships and told everyone what I was doing. From there, I felt the incredible power of relationships activate. Not to be misconstrued, it takes time. Planting and watering seeds, but the nourishment is what counts. To this day, direct referrals supersede all other growth channels.
Entrepreneurship also has laden moments of isolation. On the flip side, this is where community and friendship double down.
Growth can not occur without putting yourself out there. The exposure also includes fumbles. Being a business owner in St. Louis has allowed me the space to grow and soar concurrently. I look at this as a metaphor not just for business but for my whole life.
Keep Showing Up…
Over and over and over again. This is the mantra.
St. Louis is in the “Show Me” state. And that’s not just a slogan; it’s a way of life here. I interpret that as an insistent demand for proof. A persistence to express repeatedly that you are a productive member of the ecosystem. And St. Louis will play ball with you when you keep throwing pitches in its ballpark.
Community, friendship, and entrepreneurship require constant attentiveness. Reflecting on these ten years, these markers have helped me gain clarity into who I am and what I value.
I didn’t grow up in St. Louis, but I’ve grown up since I got here.
Interested in regular styling advice and shopping recommendations?
Sign up for my weekly Style / Substance newsletter…
