Brandee…the little engine

OK,

 So I’ve neglected my blog…

My apologies.

Eleven months after my launch…an update.

Sales have been slow:)

Scary!

But I’m still here.

I feel a bit guilty that I have not become the overnight millionare that my ever so supportive circle expected.

So I sit.

I’m not the Donald Trump of nursing bras…yet.

What a sad case of events that I launched at the exact time of a global economic meltdown. Who would’ve thought?

Just my luck.

I worry that I have disappointed the people that believed that I would be a trailblazer in business.

A trailblazer?

Didn’t happen.

I’m treading water, keeping my head up.

I’ve blazed no trails, but in keeping with the idea of treading water…I’m kind of like a business humidifier, making a wee bit of progress by still steaming.

I think about my little man (who is 5…gasp) who loves trains, and thinks I’m that little business steam engine “that could”… and WILL, given time.

Wishing all my supporters a blessed Spring season…minus the allergies…from the little engine:)

Brandee…the Topless Salesgirl

Hello all!

It has been such a long time since I last posted a blog. Time has a way of getting away from me.

Such a journey. I can now officially say my business is up and runnning…and running away from me at times. Given I wear all the “hats” in my business, it’s been hard to keep up.

The update:

Bras are out and being well received. It’s been such a learning curve for me. As a bra fitter, I figured selling my product to stores with qualified fitters somehow eliminated me from providing product knowledge.

Ooops 🙂

I delivered the product to stores only to find that some were having fit issues. My product is unique in so many ways, I can’t believe I overlooked this step. Given the way it is designed, a wired nursing bra that has adjustability in addition to support and a variety of sizes, I just assumed bra fitters would automantically know how to fit it.

Mistake #546.

I have to say, though, I love being out in the field. After being cooped up for nearly two years, isolated in my office trying to hammer out the details of this project, I find talking to real people face-to-face so refreshing and fun.

And after numerous sales meetings, I realized something very interesting today:

I have wound up topless at every single meeting.

When showing my line and educating store staff on my product features and benefits, I find it easier to wear my bra (and yes I do wear it, it’s comfy and gives great shape) and show them how the product fits. I’m a real woman with a generous cup size — “F” for fantastic anyone? — whose breastfeeding career spanned years rather than months or weeks. So my girls are really good representatives for my bra.

I’m happy that at least, so far, I haven’t offended anyone by whipping off my shirt.

It seems to be the best way to showcase what my bra actually does and demonstrates why I believe in what I do so much.

There have definitely been times when I have wondered what it is that I have gotten myself  into…but at the end of the day, I love what I do. I can’t imagine going back to the daily grind of 9-to-5 or working for anyone else, which only drives me to do better…even if I have to “work without a shirt”.

I mean let’s face it…with a name like “Brandee” it was inevitable and almost prophetic that I’d be naked at some point in my career. I’m just glad it’s for such a noble purpose as supporting moms feeding babies.

I can live with being coined as the only topless sales person in my region, in the country, for that matter…as I don’t think there are many that will expose themselves with the promise of a sale that isn’t a lap dance. 

Cheers, and thank you to all my faithful readers who have been patient with my absence. I won’t stay away so long next time.

The Land of Milk and Honey

Hello all!

After a significant amount of blood, sweat and tears, Honeymilk has finally been delivered … to stores! I’m such a proud mama right now and my new baby has been christened with some great reviews.

I have to admit, I was a bit unsure about sales. Not from a dollar point of view, but with the anxiousness of a parent sending their creation out into the world. I want everyone to love my product as much as I do, which has left me running on a bit during sales calls, I think. I tend to talk too much. (Verbal vomit anyone?) As a mother, I want to keep my bra safe and free from judgment. Silly, isn’t it?

As a business woman, as well, I am never free from stress or sleepless nights; but I am happy with where I am. I have worked so long and so hard to get to this point. Yet, while one job appears finished, my work is only  just beginning. And it’s exciting!

 For those of you who are interested, please visit my website and look under “Store locator” to find out where to purchase my product. HMD has also been featured in numerous publications, as well, which you may read about under “Honeymilk Buzz.”

Blessings to all who have supported Honeymilk Designs!

Sales Calls

Happy New Year everyone!

This is an exciting time for Honeymilk Designs. We are embarking on our full production run with product in stores in by the end of this month!

Yeah!

It’s been a long time coming and all my efforts will be realized soon.

This morning I went out on my first professional sales call. Even though it was with someone I knew from my time as a bra fitter, it was still intimidating. I wanted everything to go perfectly, or at least somewhat smoothly. I was very nervous and I realized I am really in need of a better deodorant.

On my way out the door, I checked to make sure I had everything I needed, product samples…check…purchase orders…check… company info…check.

I waved goodbye to my son at the door. He was without socks or pants, but his teeth were brushed and he was wearing underwear.

A small victory!

Starting my Jeep I did one last mental check. I had everthing I needed. Did I look professional? Hair…so-so, a few greys and minor root regrowth strategically covered by texturizing balm. Too bad I broke my flat iron AGAIN. They really need to make those things more damage-resistant when dropped on the floor. Pants… a wee bit tight, from too much baked camembert over Christmas but masked by my favorite coat. Boots…fantastic. Make-up …well done. Eyebrows…nicely sculptured. What’s that? A nose hair!? NO! False alarm, just a rouge bristle from a cheap blush brush. Thank God!

I dug quickly in my purse to find my liner to give a bit of help to my pucker. The liner wasn’t working that well and I made a mental note to go and get a better one that went on smoother. It took  me three minutes to realize I was attempting to line my lips with a crayon.

Crap.

At least I got the color right.

The joys of being in business with a small child.

Note to self: remove said crayons (given out by well meaning restaurant hostesses) from bag.

So, it was definitely time for a coffee. Thank goodness for drive through coffee houses.

I guess I’ll get better at this as time goes on, although things went well and I believe the product met their expectations.

The wrinkles will get ironed out.

If only the same could be said for my face.

Bra-sizing “D”mystified

So again, I have been searching the internet to try and find a great “bra size calculator” (ie. you plug in some measurements and voila! you have your perfect size).

Ladies, because of my experience as a bra fitter, I advise you to RUN AWAY from these things!

All brands fit differently and, as I have mentioned before, there are no recognized standards in terms of sizing. That being said, I know that I range from a 34 F to a 32 E, depending on brand and style. Some styles don’t fit me at all, particularly those made in China (the brands will remain nameless… do your research). And let’s face it, after this past year and a half, with all the recalls, are we confident with ANYTHING made in China?

From using a variety of “bra calculators” I have been sized anywhere from a 38 C to a 32 J and, horror of horrors!, a 40 AA!

That’s just ridiculous!

In my humble opinion, A’s and AA’s don’t really exist, unless you are under 100 pounds or are 12 years old.

I did a fitting on a woman today who told me she was a 36 A and it turns out she was a 32 D.

Ladies!

Get your “girls” fitted properly!

In a lingerie store, with a variety of brands and sizes.

Be wary of chain stores, websites and manufacturers who “claim” to want to help you find your “perfect” size in “their” brand. Translation, they just want to sell their own brand of bra. No brand or style will work for every woman, mine included. 

I am a bra manufacturer, but a bra-fitter first.

Wear something that supports you, and go to the right people to make sure this happens!

Stay away from the measuring tape! Or anyone that uses one to determine your size!  Bra fitting is part art, part science. Only trained fitters will be able to determine your size and the proper fitting style for you. 

Blessings, from the bra fitting militia.

Website Launch

WOW! Today was an amazing day.

My website launched.

Another milestone on this entrepreneurial journey. Product is not in stores yet but women and retailers can see what I’ve been blogging about for the past year and a half.

Exciting!

I can finally see the light at the end of the manufacturing tunnel.

I wasn’t prepared for all the emotions I would feel because, I’ve sent my baby out into the world. So scary! I really appreciate all the positive feedback.

I read all my emails but my mind, as always, wasn’t focused. I thought about the work that still needed to be done and I wondered: was the product perfect? do I need to make any more adjustments? is the website too sexy? are there any more spelling errors? how much did I pay for potatoes? why is my son “snorking?” OK, well at least he’s saying “excuse me.” I need to get more foundation, my last purchase of face make-up boasted it would “let my natural beauty shine through.” I found out my natural beauty consisted of raccoon eyes (from being woken up five times a night by a nightmaring three year old who is terrified of the Pillsbury dough boy) and the odd breakout. Clearly, “natural beauty” isn’t for me. I need coverage…in the form of an industrial oil product, or perhaps polyfil or spackle.

What’s that saying? “Time marches on, and eventually you realize it’s marching across your face”.

How I long for the days when I thought “crow’s feet” actually happened to your feet.

Oh well, I’m in business.

For those of my followers who are interested in seeing my product and the scope of my company…have a look.

www.honeymilkdesigns.com

Ready (almost) to launch

Wow, it’s been such a long journey. But here we are. We have great fitting samples and the business is ready to launch.

I have never been so excited and so afraid at the same time. I have nightmares about drowing in bras and panties.

It’s been such a long road. One I wasn’t really prepared for. Did I think this would be so hard? Was I prepared for the vast number of people who had no idea what I was doing except spending vast amounts of money?

Not so much.

I feel like I did before I gave birth.

This is my new baby. One I have so many feelings about. I’m so tired, and happy and confused and…freaked out!

This must be what they mean when they say “if it was easy, everyone would do it”.

I guess going into it with my experience and preparation, I thought it would be easier.

Being naive is both a blessing and a curse, because if I really knew what I was in for starting a business — a manufacturing business nonetheless — I probably wouldn’t have done it …

Ok, I lied, I soooooo would have. 🙂

I need the drama and challenge in my life.

Cheers to being “almost” ready to launch.

The Bra-fitter takes a Vacation

It’s been over a month since my last blog entry. How time flies.

But I must admit, I took a much needed vacation.

After production woes and a move I felt a bit drained and needed to recharge. Considering it’s been over two years since I took some time for myself and family, it was due.

I went to Vancouver Island with my husband and son to visit a dear friend and had a great time. Beautiful scenery and awesome weather added to my sense of bliss.

While visiting a picturesque beach with the clearest, warmest, bluest water imaginable, I felt a poke in my sternum. I felt my chest to see what had transpired in the valley region, and noticed a wire creeping up towards my throat.

Yes, you heard right. My wire had popped out.

Even with the most dillegent care of my unmentionables, I had a fairly common problem that I had failed to notice.

In this last year, with all my stress of starting a business, coupled with family stresses, my dad’s battle with two types of cancer and the loss of my two beloved animals in a three month time span I had (ahem) put on a bit of poundage. 23 to be precise. And I never took the time to be fitted for new bras. My “e’s” had turned into “f’s”. I can only blame denial. 

Can you believe it?

Why do we as women neglect ourselves when the going gets tough? Not to mention abuse ourselves. In my case, too much comfort foods, deserts and midnight runs to 7-11.

Oh, the horror.

So, it’s off to the lingerie store for me in the next few days. Not to mention focusing on a diet and exercise regime, something that would’ve probably helped with my stress levels long ago.

It’s so hard to practice what you preach.

Off to “practice.”

I’ll be back preaching soon:)

The Mompreneur

A Mompreneur.

Am I one?

I guess so.

I hate that term. It has a hint of condescension that irritates me to no end. Athough, I must admit, I’m a HUGE fan of The Mompreneur magazine and read it religiously. It’s a great resource for any woman in business.

I am a business woman. One that happens to have a child. I’ve wanted my own business since before I can remember. The term “Mompreneur” indicates to me that I need my own catergory. I’d love to see someone call Donald Trump a “Dadpreneur”. That would make for an interesting episode of The Apprentice.

I guess the term just has that little “pat on the head” component to it. Like someone saying “Oh, aren’t you a cute little mom trying to start a business from her basement. Isn’t that sweet?”. Like we have no right to be here.

And I do. I have paid my dues like everyone else and I deserve the right to call myself an Entrepreneur. I’ve sacrificed and taken the same risks as everyone else. No one has given me a free ride because I am a mom.

Granted, there are some differences being in business as a mother. I often indulge my son with things I never would have had I not had to be on the phone with a potential client or my accountant. Yes, Jack has had quite a few lollipops in a row and watched far too much TV due to business calls. My house is usually in some state of disarray and I ignore my husband in the evening to reply to pressing emails.

I don’t really have a schedule. My life revolves around my business and my family and whatever is the most urgent gets my attention, and sometimes what gets it is not what should. I continually feel like I’m walking a tightrope, trying to do everything yet doing nothing the best that I could.

It’s all about picking my battles, and at the end of the day, even with household tasks not completed, and vendors unanswered, I know I’ve done my best, and I find a way to let it go.

All that aside, I AM a business woman. One who, along with purchase orders, business cards and tax forms in my briefcase also has the odd crayon and toy truck floating around in there. Oh and Tootsie rolls, cause they’re just good in every situation.

I can still be firece,  granted I’m a little softer around the edges, both physically and mentally, since having my wee one. And I think that’s a good thing. I still look fabulous in a business suit.  Although, if while walking downtown, in stilettos, with my typical confident swagger you happen to see a cheerio or goldfish cracker stuck to my butt, so be it.

I’m a Mompreneur.

The Women in my Life

After reflecting on all my ramblings and realizing I should probably change the name of my blog to “The Musings of a Crazy Woman” I realize that things in my life have happened very organically. And honestly that is something that is important to me.

I have had so many jobs, it’s become a joke in my family circle. But if there is one thread of consistancy it is this, that I want to connect with people. I need to. I need people to feel like I hear them and they me. Because, after all, what is life without authentic interactions? It’s is one of the things that gives me true satisfaction in my life.

On that note, I felt the need to address the women in my life who have heard me. Who have made me comfortable with who I am, and in doing so, have given me the confidence in following my dream.

My dream? To be a successful woman in business for herself, while cultivating a healthy and nurturing family environment. Someone who is socially conscious and who creates something that actually helps people. Looking back, after all of the challenges and near-nervous breakdowns I’ve had, I can’t help but think:  “Clearly I could’ve thought up an easier dream?” But seriously, commiting myself to winning the lottery just didn’t seem like a well thought out plan.

So how have I coped? Perservered? Maintained my focus?

The women in my life.

No disrespect to my husband, who is a constant source of love and support (you know I love you Kev).

And my dad, who is and always will be, my hero.

It’s always been the women in my life that have been a primary source of inspiration to me. Mainly because we all — especially if we have kids — can understand the daily challenges of being a mother in today’s world. The feminist movement really didn’t do anything to propel us into an easier life. We were liberated from the kitchen in the fifties, while our men were at war, only to realize when we came home from our jobs, there were still dirty dishes in the sink, and children’s waxy ears to scrub and laundry to do. I honestly feel like the feminist movement just gave us more tasks. Because as we left the kitchens nobody replaced us.

Off on a tangent, I will get back to my original point. This is not a post bashing men, simply a post that celebrates my female comrades.

First off, there is my family. The people who think the sun rises and sets with me (don’t you?). My mom, my inspiration and my touchstone. For anyone who has read my blog they know my thoughts on her. She was and is still the best mom in the world. She has her bad points, don’t get me wrong, but my little spirit couldn’t have picked a better guardian. I look forward to her calls, and often find myself irritating her through mine.

Then there is my Auntie Louise, who I often think of as another mother. I have no bigger fan. Everything I do, in her eyes, is amazing, and she absolutely can’t imagine that I may have made some bad choices. It’s simply not an option. She thinks I am the best thing sinced sliced bread and can never be swayed any other way. I love her dearly.

Next, my sister. We couldn’t be more different, and yet we are the same. We parent so differently, yet our goals are always the same. She handles a high pressured job with ease, and has always been wise beyond her years. I often feel sad about our birth order, she had so much more stress growing up than I did. I got away with more simply by learning from her mistakes. She blazed the trail so to speak. She taught me how to swim, how to ride a bike, tolerated the timid little kindergarten knocks on her grade two classroom door, only to have to take her little sister by the hand to the bathroon because she didn’t know how to work the clasps on her overalls, and certainly didn’t trust a teacher to do so. And, even though she wasn’t extremely confrontational in her own circle, she would have kicked anybody’s ass if they messed with me. I was lucky to have her in my corner, where she continues to be.

I have a myriad of friends, some from highschool, some new (specifically in my women’s groups and forums). Those that seek out authentic relationships with other women while reserving judgement. Devina, Sarah, Jen and Darcie — my women’s circle that disbanded but yet managed to maintain contact, proving that when women make connections, we keep them.

My friend Jessica, who is as diligent about self-improvement as I am, who always reflects my concerns about myself in a positive way, and tells me she loves me. We read far too many self-help books, but we always have a frame of reference. She is genuine and beautiful, and I know no other person who is as real and honest and good.

And lastly but not certainly not least, my friend “M”. I will not post her full name in this blog, which is public, because she is a private person and is fiercely protective of that, given her brief appearance and subsequent dissapearance from Facebook. No, I don’t buy that you never kept up with the site. I know the internet freaks you out at times. What can I say about her? She is my “new” friend. Isn’t that funny that I still think of her that way even though I have known her since I was 17, almost half my life. I guess that’s how you feel about people you did not form friendships with in school, even though I really don’t talk to any of those friends now. Our friendship has stood the test of time, moving across the country, having children, changing jobs, marital distress, and the like. When I phone her, I am home, wherever I am. She never gets tired of my rants, she hates the people who have wronged me today and loves them when I forgive them tomorrow. She always thinks I look good, even though I’ve gained twenty pounds. She accepts me as I am. I really don’t know what I would do without her, my little touchstone from England, and I have no idea if she realizes how important she is to me. We are so different in so many ways. She has some odd habits that I won’t go into detail about, English humour I don’t understand, and a relationship to something called “Marmite”, a spread made out of onions and yeast that I will never understand nor be brave enough to try. She is also far too enamoured with Wal-Mart, something I definitely need to overlook. Her influnce has also changed me, in terms of my husband, who is an english major, and his irritation at my use of the word “advert” instead of advertisment, and the family members that have no idea what I’m talking about when I say someone has “the knock” with me or that my son had a “paddy” in the grocery store because I didn’t buy him another Hot Wheels. I’m sure she has the same reaction when she goes home and is so clearly Canadian. I was lucky enough to be there for birth of her son. Driving in the middle of the night — unknowingly pregnant myself — on Vancouver Island, with no idea where I was going, I wound up missing the turn off to the hospital and hit the next town forty minutes away. I heard something in her voice when she went into labour that lit a fire under me. She said she was OK, but her inflection said I needed to come, end of story. I know what’s going on with her, even though she, on most occasions would probably never say it, and it really doesn’t need to be said, and vice versa. We often end up calling each other at the same precise moment. She is one of the most cherished people in my life. Someone who listens to me far too much. Love you “M”. You are my best friend.

The women in my life are so important to who I am, whether they listen, prod, encourage, support, reflect or challenge.

We are such a great gender.

To all the women who have supported other women, you are a gift. One that I will continue to acknowledge on my journey to, oh let’s face it, I have no idea where.

Love you girls.

xoxox