When I started Zelie For She at 25 years old, I didn’t have some perfectly mapped-out business plan.
I had a Dream
And I followed it.
That dream somehow exploded within a weekend, and then it just kept going.
I kept designing. I kept creating stories. I kept figuring things out as they came. And then one day I looked up and I was 36 years old thinking, Whoa. We’re here. How did this happen?
I grew up alongside this business.
And if I’m being truthful, I spent most of those years being a creative artist first.
I wanted to design.
I wanted to create worlds.
I wanted to tell stories through clothing, photography, and imagery.
I wasn’t always thinking about logistics, systems, or all the things you’re apparently supposed to understand when you own a business.
Don't get me wrong, I was making sure everything was running, the virgo in me kept me organized. But wow it was exhausting.
And I would be lying if I said I fully understand all of it now.
I don’t.
I think business, creativity, and life are all a lot more nuanced than people make them seem.
You learn as you go.
But when I started thinking about returning to Zelie For She, I suddenly decided that this time I couldn’t begin until I had everything figured out.
Everything had to be organized.
Everything had to make sense.
Everything had to be perfect.
And for months, years I sat there waiting for that perfection.
Meanwhile, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to create again.
Eventually I had to admit something to myself.
The first version of Zelie For She didn’t begin because I knew everything.
It began because I had something I wanted to say and I was willing to put it into the world.
So when I think about this next version of Zelie For She, I actually find myself looking back at the beginning.
Small capsule collections.
Intimate stories.
Designs that felt personal.
But I also think about how vulnerable I was willing to be back then.
I’ve always used the phrase “leaping into fear.”
Because I don’t think being fearless means you aren’t afraid.
Sometimes you are absolutely afraid.
You don’t know what’s going to happen.
You don’t know if something is going to work.
You don’t know where the decision you’re making is going to take you.
You just have faith that somehow you’ll figure it out along the way.
And I think I lost a little bit of that over the years.
The older I became, the more I wanted to know the outcome before I took the first step.
I wanted the plan.
I wanted the answers.
I wanted everything to make sense before I allowed myself to move.
And now I’m realizing that this next chapter is asking me to be vulnerable again.
To leap into the unknown again.
To have an idea, believe in it, and give it room to become whatever it is supposed to become.
I never really stopped storytelling, but now I want to return to it in a more intentional way.
A little slower.
A little more refined.
A little more grown.
I’m entering the last year of my thirties now, and naturally my eye has changed.
The woman I’m designing for has grown with me too.
And even after all these years, I can still go online looking for something in plus-size fashion and feel like something is missing.
One of the things I keep thinking about is what I call uniforms.
Not uniforms in the traditional sense.
I mean those pieces you always return to.
That button-down you know works.
The perfect trouser.
The dress you can pull out when you don’t want to think too hard but still want to feel like yourself.
A set that instantly looks complete.
I want to explore that idea in a more sophisticated way now.
That means elevating the fabrication.
Bringing in higher-quality materials and more natural fibers where they make sense.
Paying closer attention to fit, tailoring, construction, and detail.
But I still want the unexpected prints.
The interesting textures.
The fashion-forward fabrics.
The whimsy.
I don’t want growing up to mean becoming boring .
I also don’t want to create just because the calendar says I should.
This next chapter is going to be small, intimate , personal .
Some months I might release one style.
Maybe two or three.
Maybe nothing at all.
Maybe there is a small collection, and then we don’t meet again for another month or two.
I don’t want to promise a schedule that doesn’t allow me to actually enjoy creating.
I want things to come when I have something worth making and a story worth telling.
And I’m asking you to be patient with me while I find my way back into all of this.
Design.
Creative direction.
Photography.
Fabric.
Fit.
Storytelling.
All the things I have loved for so long.
I’m baby-stepping myself back into this world.
And that is also why this journal is now becoming such an important part of Zelie For She.
I don’t want this website to only be somewhere you visit when I have something to sell.
I want there to be a place where we can stay connected in between the clothes.
Maybe I write every week.
Maybe once a month.
Maybe I’m talking about the business.
Maybe I’m sharing what I’m designing next.
Maybe I’m talking about my life, fashion, something happening in the world, a fabric I’ve fallen in love with, or whatever is sitting on my mind at that moment.
The journal is going to be a personal extension of me.
A place where you get to see the process rather than only the finished result.
And the truth is, if you had asked me a year ago about Zelie For She, I probably would have told you I was done.
I thought maybe I needed to close this chapter.
But after conversations with people I love, and after looking at where plus-size fashion still is after all these years, I kept thinking about what it would mean for Zelie to disappear completely.
It would be one less place for a plus-size woman to find something she doesn’t see everywhere else.
Something with a point of view.
Something special.
Something that doesn’t feel like it was created for everybody and nobody at the same time.
And I’m not ready to let that go.
Eventually, I want to continue exploring the other ventures I’ve been dreaming about and for them to grow in their own ways too.
But I don’t need to figure all of that out today.
Right now, I’m starting here.
Love , Zelie
