5 Year Anniversary
This week we celebrated 5 Years in Business. Not going to lie, it’s still pretty surreal. Thinking back to the early days of Bards Clothing, trying to sell 1 shirt every few months. Now we have clients in almost a dozen states, connections across multiple industries, and making a difference in American manufacturing. I gave a speech at my event (of course I did) and I want to send it here, because it came from the heart.
Venue: Smith Farm Gardens
Planning & Coordination: Gilded Gals
Photographer: Courtney Irene Photography
Catering: Distinctive Ideas
Mobile Bar: The Liquorist
Content Creation: Agape Design
Florals: Indigo Blooms
Music: Joe Sabourin
Second Shooter: T.Johanna Photography
Featured Vendors
My parents, brothers, sisters, in-laws, nieces (and this is only 2/3 of my immediate family)
First, thank you.
Thank you for being here, for showing up, not just tonight, but over the past few years. Through the early experiments, the missteps, the breakthroughs, and the quiet moments in between.
This moment right here, this gathering, this dream turned reality, it wouldn’t exist without you.
To my family: thank you for the foundation. For the unconditional love. And for letting me run with an idea that, at times, probably sounded a little wild.
To my friends: thank you for cheering me on, lending a hand, sharing posts, buying the first samples, and believing in this before there was anything to see.
To my clients: thank you for your trust. For letting me into your stories, your weddings, your milestones, your wardrobes. You didn’t just invest in clothing—you invested in the belief that what you wear can mean something.
And to my colleagues, fellow makers, and every single person behind the seams: thank you for your craft, your time, your patience, and your pride in building something real.
In 2018, I left a meeting with a client who casually said, “You should start your own business.” On the drive home, I called my friend Alexa Roberti and started pitching a clothing brand idea. I ended by saying, “I'm asking for a friend.” We chatted a bit longer before she stopped and said, “Is that friend you?”
Yes, there was a time I was bashful, even scared, to claim this dream out loud.
Two years later, Bards Clothing was born. And ironically, that same client who planted the seed ended up backing out of his order, leaving me with tens of thousands of dollars in debt. On top of that, I couldn’t use Alexa’s company for three years due to a non-compete. Oh, I was only 2 months sober and we were in the middle of a global pandemic.
But we stuck to the mission.
I sold shirts from the factory who is here tonight (thank you, Charles.) I drove to every bridal shop within a 75-mile radius, made real connections, met people like Melissa Oddo, and we triumphed.
My five-year plan was to have a physical location. Just after year three, I opened the Branford showroom. Now, we’re in Higganum.
This company is built on your shoulders. You are the thread in the fabric of this brand.
But tonight isn’t just about looking back, it’s about what we do next. Together.
We live in a world that moves fast. One-click. Next-day. Auto-filled. Same-hour delivery. We’ve engineered our lives for convenience. And I get it, I use DoorDash, I order online, I reroute my GPS to save two minutes just like everyone else.
But somewhere along the way, in our pursuit of ease, we stopped noticing the hands that feed us, clothe us, serve us, and create for us. We’ve made things so frictionless that we’ve lost touch with the people doing the work.
And let me be clear: I’m not here to tell you to swear off Amazon. I’m not asking you to churn your own butter and whittle your own shoes, unless that’s your thing, in which case, please invite me over.
I’m asking for something smaller, and more powerful than that.
I’m asking you to pause.
To see the people.
Every person working this event tonight has a life as beautifully complex as your own. They have dreams, heartbreaks, inside jokes, and people waiting for them to get home. The candlemaker. The tailor. The delivery driver. The independent shop owner. The person sewing your garment, by hand, in a factory you’ll likely never visit.
And every time you spend money, you’re making a choice.
You can support someone’s fourth home in the Hamptons, or someone’s first violin lessons for their kid.
You can fund another algorithm, or a human being who puts their heart into their work and their name behind the product.
When you shop small, when you buy local, when you hire a person instead of clicking a button, you become the difference.
You keep lights on.
You send kids to school.
You fuel dreams that don’t come with venture capital lifelines.
You say, “I see you. Your work matters.”
And no, it’s not always the cheapest.
It’s not always the easiest.
But it’s the most human.
And honestly? It feels good.
It feels good to walk into a place where someone knows your name.
To put on a piece of clothing and know the story behind every stitch.
To gift something that was made, not manufactured.
We talk a lot about changing the world. But sometimes the most revolutionary thing we can do is simply slow down and appreciate what’s right in front of us.
Because craft still matters. People still matter.
And if we want a world that reflects those values, we have to show up for it, not just in words, but in action.
So tonight, I want to celebrate you, for being part of this story.
And I want to invite you to carry this feeling forward.
To walk into that bookstore instead of defaulting to the app.
To tip a little extra.
To ask someone about their process.
To say thank you, not just with your voice, but with your wallet.
To be intentional.
Because every time you choose people over profit, story over speed, community over convenience—you help shape a better world.
One where dreams like this can exist.
One where your dollars are seeds.
And one where we all rise, together.
Thank you, for believing, for showing up, and for choosing something real.
Here’s to the next chapter.
Cheers.
Nicole is a dress maker in Massachusetts, we met via instagram and have become great friends and supporters of each others business’
The Liquorist
I’ve known Dan & Rebecca for roughly 13 years. They have seen me at my worst and supported me at my best. Honored to have them in my corner.
Meet my Maker
One of the defining characteristics of Bards Clothing is that I know the family who owns my factory, and they’re the next state over. On the left is Alexa Roberti, 3rd generation. and on the right is a new client, Jimmy. I was able to introduce him to the people who made his suit.
Friends and Colleagues
I’ve had these events in the past and it’s usually just friends and family. I was honored to invite friends, family, and colleagues. There was a beautiful mixture and it really represented something beautiful.