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Squeezing the sh*t out of lemons || MY STORY

April 5, 2017

The muscle of kick-assery is like any other muscle ... you have to use it or you lose it.

- Jen Sincero

 

So I recently read somewhere (...yes -- I read. Thank you.) that an important piece of a company's brand is its story. It's essentially a part of its DNA, so once you've put pen to paper -- you need to share the sh*t out of that story.

 

*Ding Ding Diiiiiiing* You guessed it! I'm going to share that story with you today. Don't get me wrong, I'm not talking about revealing every tiny little detail of my personal life -- no one cares about how I had to wear plastic grocery bags in my rain boots FOR THREE DAYS because I was walking around with holes in BOTH of them. #thestruggleisreal

 

But seriously, I've talked a bit about how this kick ass adventure started in the "ABOUT" section of my website (feel free to check that out if you want to... it's a true literary masterpiece). Well, think of that blurb as the "Cole's Notes" of Buttercup Co.'s story (Omigod -- look at me referring to Cole's Notes! Ms. McNeil would be proud of me for remembering that.) Anyways -- I could go on and on forever. Brevity isn't my forte, so here it is...

 

                                                        ***

 

You can say Buttercup Co. came about as a solution.

 

You see – I’ve always considered myself to be a strong and ambitious-type gal, who is quick on her feet. I can creatively solve my way out of most sticky situations and Buttercup Co. is no exception.

 

In fact, I would consider this creative pursuit as my attempt to whip up a few batches of honest and freshly-squeezed lemonade* with the handful of bitter lemons I've been served.

 

*But not actual lemonade because you can't really make any money off of selling that sour sh*t. Trust me. I would know. I tried when I was 7 and it was a total flop. So I opted to design greeting cards, instead.

 

Crafts, in general, have been a part of my life ever since I was little. As a child, I made macaroni necklaces and Tea Party invitations by the dozen. Fast-forward 3 years after graduating from University, I found myself moving in with my ( now ) ex-boyfriend in a two bedroom apartment.

 

I think it’s safe to say I was pretty stoked at the prospect of finally having a room to create as many projects as I dared to dream up… and that’s when my vision for a bright and crisp studio came to an abrupt halt. Yep -- reality came in swinging like a wrecking-ball. #mileycyrusstyle 

 

Ever heard of a “man-a-seum”? Welp. Don’t feel bad, because neither had I up until this point. Much to my dismay, it became crystal clear my ex had much bigger plans (not necessarily better) for this space. Next thing I knew, in came the L-shaped sofa, a flat-screen TV and a PS4. Alas, my dreams of having a room filled with endless craft supplies went out the door.

 

I guess you could say we compromised. He got his “man-cave” featuring a shrine of awards and important accolades… and I got a 2x4 desk in a corner of our ( then ) Master Bedroom. Great. With barely any room to get my hands busy and get those creative juices flowing, I turned my lonely-looking iMac, neatly installed on my desk. 

 

 

                                                        ***

 

PROBLEM-SOLVING BREAKDOWN #1:

 

Man Cave = Limited Space = No room to craft = Getting creative on my computer

 

 

                                                        ***

 

Mind you, at this point, I was already a bit bored and tired of stale, traditional greeting cards, so I figured I could come up with a few cheeky and sassy designs. As it turns out, I was able to create a series of original + honest greeting cards.

 

Fast-forward again to early 2017: I was out grabbing a cup of coffee with an old friend and I came home to a gut-wrenching surprise. I barely had time to take my coat off, and the man standing in front of me – the same one who was driving me to my very first craft market just months before, looked at me in the eye and told me he was leaving. My heart sank. I couldn’t breathe. He mumbled a few words, handed me an envelope and left. It all happened so fast.

 

It was days before Valentine’s Day and I had already committed myself as a vendor in a love-themed craft market. What seemed like a cute and fun idea when I first signed up, quickly turned into a stomach-churning affair. I wanted no part in anything alluding to love, romance and relationships. My heartbreak was fresh and my emotions were still raw. I felt anxious and exposed.

 

The easy thing to do would’ve been to drop out of the market entirely. Sending an email to the organizer would’ve taken seconds – but I’m not that person. I don’t give up so easily. My reputation is something I value very much and I wasn’t willing to compromise that for the sake of a guy. He had already done enough.

 

So I brewed myself a hot cup of tea and sat in front of my trusty desktop and pumped out NINE breakup cards (side note: you can find the entire F*ck Breakups Collection here … you're welcome.) I figured I couldn't possibly be the only one going through something like this and maybe someone out there needed a little extra honesty and f*ck you humour to mend her broken heart.

 

My sadness and anger fueled my need to pour my heart out on paper. You know -- someone once told me it's a shame I have trouble "expressing” my opinions by formulating valid and robust arguments through healthy debate but I have come to the conclusion that creativity and a few teaspoons of badass-ery is exactly what I needed.

 

 

                                                        ***

 

PROBLEM-SOLVING BREAKDOWN #2:

 

Picking up the piece by myself = frustration = Creating a collection of badass breakup cards

 

 

                                                        ***

 

So how did this company get to see the light of day?  Well you could say it was a twist of fate, really. When one combines a fiery French girl, a cramped work space, serious problem-solving skills and a passion for honest, relatable and slightly-obnoxious humor,  you get Buttercup Co

 

 

 

Fin.

 

 

 

 

 

Keep that sh*t up, babes!

 

M.

 

 

 

 

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OTTAWA, CANADA ||  CHEERTEAM@BUTTERCUPCO.COM
Creatively Fueled With Sass And A Strong Cup Of Coffee ||  2017 Buttercup Co.