Heyo, remember me?! I'm back and I’m sitting at my kitchen table, while sunlight pours through a window that absolutely needs to be cleaned. The kind of thing that usually triggers a mental to-do list. Today, it doesn’t. Phew! Today it's just good to be here, inside, while outside Greenville is doing its best impression of Antarctica.
I’m thinking about the work I get to do, the weekend ahead with my daughter, time with my wife and friends. Ordinary joys. Everything else is a distraction.
A couple years ago I left my spot in a successful design agency that looked great on paper but nuked my nervous system. So I started saying no. Slowly. Awkwardly. Sometimes expensively. I traded volume for focus. Noise for a few things I could do well and care about deeply. Wimp is one of those things.
I haven’t sent a Wimp newsletter since before Christmas. Not because something went wrong, but because I took a breath. Instead of beating myself up for it, I'll trust that this community (that would be you) is doing just fine. Growing Wimp the company, is mostly on a steady, slow, uphill climb. Every month, a few more consistent customers. One day at a time y'all.
I'm often wondering what it's like for you folks to push back against the constant demand for more. Faster. Harder. Better. Leaner. Stronger. Sexier. Richer. All of it yelling at once like a seagull-raccoon hybrid with a loudspeaker (terrifying). What's your rebellion? How are you chilling the #%@* out?!
I want to know, and you want Wimp gear. So here’s an experiment. Each week, I’m going to send a piece of Wimp swag to one person who shares a story about how they are chilling, calming, or totally messing it up and laughing about it — because why so serious?! Make me laugh, bonus points. If it involves sharing Wimp in a deeply non-performative way, like calling your mom and sending me the video, I will absolutely lose my shit in the best way possible.
We've got limited stock and sizes until we launch a real store, and this stuff is FREE.