SLEEVE NOTES: The Cost of Having an Opinion (Doechii)

Doechii

I’ve lost followers before.

But this one hit different.

Not because the numbers dropped. That happens. Algorithms shift, people shift, and not every story needs to stay forever.

But, because of why they left.

I shared a clip of Doechii, one of the most fearless women in music right now, speaking with the kind of clarity and courage this moment demands. And suddenly, some of the people who follow my vinyl reels, my perfume rituals, my skincare products… disappeared.

It’s all sunshine and scent pairings, until I have an opinion.

Until I let the softness sharpen.

Until the glitter meets the grit.

As a creative, as an empath, and as a writer, it’s exhausting to show up like everything is fine. To act like we’re just playing with pretty things while the country we live in is actively harming so many of us.

It feels dishonest.

And yet… I try. I try so hard to keep this space soft.

I try to be a quiet room in a loud, violent world.

Somewhere warm. A little dreamy. A little dorky. Where people can escape for even one minute and remember what it feels like to breathe. And maybe find a new tiny joy in a lipgloss or fragrance.

But I’m not just a mood board.

I’m not a brand with a neutral stance.

I’m a person. A daughter. A mother. A wife. A best friend. An ally. An artist. A taxpayer. A citizen. A woman who grew up believing in freedom, and is now watching it erode in real time.

Sharing Doechii’s voice wasn’t “off topic.”

It was on mission.

Because art, beauty, style, scent, none of that exists in a vacuum. The vinyl I play, the lipstick I wear, the people I write about: all of it exists in context. And pretending otherwise is a disservice to everyone who finds refuge in the things I create.

So yeah, I lost some followers.

But I found more of myself.

And I remembered why I do this in the first place.

This space isn’t built for algorithms.

It’s built for people.

The kind who can hold joy and fury in the same palm, without using them as a weapon.

The kind who can love a good eyeliner, and stand up for what’s right.

The kind who know soft things are often the strongest.

If you’re still here, thank you.

Let’s keep making room for all of it.

Not just the beautiful parts.