Rebuilding Vintage Drift SLC: What It Takes to Keep a Small Business Dream Alive
Our Out & Proud Pop Up Market held every June since 2023
If you’ve been following along with my vintage store Vintage Drift SLC over the last few months, you know things have been… messy, to put it mildly. I’ve gone quiet at times, not because I didn’t have things to say, but because I needed time to catch my breath and figure out what came next. Running a small business is never linear, in my 7 years of experience, it’s a rollercoaster of love, labor, and lessons learned the hard way. Someone else I know once described it as “Getting into a knife fight in a phone booth.” Which feels particularly accurate these past 6 months.
When I had to close our 900 South storefront, that wasn’t part of the plan. We had just been featured by the Salt Lake Tribune, Vintage Store Day was the most successful sales day in the history of my store, I was reaching out to other businesses about our Halloween Block Party plans…. in June. I definitely had every intention of staying in business along 900 south for as long as possible.
What started as a roof-related maintenance issue turned into something far more complicated. After months of back-and-forth with the building’s owners trying to address persistent leaks, water damage, and a broken air conditioner….the ceiling panels started falling apart in chunks revealing what was obviously Black Mold.
Here is the moldy conditions of the backstorage room on 265 East 900 South Unit B as of August 24th 2025
I ended up in the hospital for three days with an Infection in July.
During my stay, a doctor told me bluntly: if there was any mold in my environment at home or at work, I needed to get it taken care of immediately.
That was the wake-up call. It became clear that the condition of the space wasn’t safe or sustainable, not for me, my assistants, our vendors, or our customers. I did everything I could to stay: documented issues, communicated consistently with the landlords, pushed for repairs. But the conditions kept getting worse instead of better, and the landlords responded by serving me multiple conflicting, sometimes even illegal, notices. By mid-August, we had both retained lawyers and it was pretty clear they were not going to take responsibility for repairing their building. In Utah, tennant laws leave commercial renters very, very few options to move forward.
So, on August 24th, 2025, I made the rapid and painful decision to close the storefront to protect my health and the health of our customers. It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was what had to be done. I needed to rebuild in an environment that reflects the same care I put into everything I do.
That decision was painful. The store had become more than a business, it was a heartbeat on that corner, a place where creativity and connection thrived. So many regulars had made it part of their daily rhythm, stopping in to chat, browse, or just feel at home for a few minutes. Closing weekend was filled with people stopping by to tell me just what my store meant to them and how eager they were for me to re-open somewhere new, which had me crying about every 3 minutes.
I also loved being part of the up-and-coming Milk Block community, surrounded by other owner-operated shops that poured their hearts into what they do. There’s a special kind of magic that happens when small business owners share a street, the daily check-ins, the borrowed supplies, the shared victories and late-night lockups. It was more than proximity to cool people doing cool things it was belonging.
But in hindsight, this was also the turning point I didn’t know I needed. It has forced me to slow down, reassess my boundaries, and start rebuilding my businesses with intention rather than exhaustion and chasing patchwork solutions. It is now November, and I am finally coming up for air with fresh ideas and a renewed commitment to moving forward!
A Curious Lesson I Learned from Starting Over —— Again!
I used to think success in small business was about stability. A 3-year lease signed on a storefront in the coolest neighborhood in the city, a steady rhythm, a predictable schedule. Now I know that success looks a lot more like adaptability. It’s about continuing to show up even when the plan changes, even when it hurts, and even when the “next right step” is still unclear.
Rebuilding reminded me that community isn’t defined by four walls. It’s the people who show up to shop, to share, to help load a U-Haul, to send a kind message, or to buy a gift card just because they believe in what you’re doing. Every bit of that support mattered. It got me through the hardest parts and gave me the energy to start again, this time with more clarity and stronger boundaries. I am a better small business owner because of this experience.
Some of The People Who Helped Us Get Here - I won’t cover everyone !! Sorry!
I want to take a moment to express my deepest gratitude to some of the people and organizations who showed up for me during this transition.
To the owners of businesses Violet Hour SLC , City of Industry, The Legendarium, Re-Finery , The Green Ant SLC along with Tenille Taggart, Delaney Landham, friends Lara Potjewyd, Kolby Peterson, Chris Laura Alderman and so many others that popped by… Thank you for answering my calls, sharing my fundraiser, shopping, helping pack my shop up, hugging me and holding space for all the tears - for truly being there for me, for being community when I felt like I didn’t have one, you all showed up.
To Maven District and the Trouble Makers Collective for my 1st Pop Up opportunities in almost 3 years thank you for reminding me that creative women can build something powerful out of disruption. To Botanika, for sharing your retail space and energy while I navigated next steps. Oliver & Princess Natasha, for welcoming Vintage Drift into your vendor line-up, both of you are helping me keep momentum alive during this uncertain time, your support truly means everything to me.
The Mayor’s Office of Economic Development took the time to come to my unit and see the conditions first hand, they listened, offered guidance, and connected me with resources when I needed them most.
I’m also deeply thankful to Council Members Eva López Chávez and Chris Wharton for their empathy, advocacy, insight, and genuine support as I navigated this process that is weighed so deeply in favor of landlords. Thank you (and congratulations!!) to newly elected Councilor Erika Carlsen, who stopped at a market booth, familiar with my situation and spoke with me about the experience. All of their willingness to listen and advocate meant a great deal, not only to me personally, but to the many small business owners in Salt Lake I’ve spoken with who face similar challenges behind the scenes.
And finally, I want to thank my partner, Bryan. He was there for every part of this. The hospital stay, the meetings with lawyers, the constant ups and downs of the last 3 months, and the days when I just couldn’t get out of bed. He’s seen me at my strongest and at my most exhausted, and he never flinched. He showed up with calm when everything felt chaotic, with perspective when I was spiraling, and with love when I wasn’t sure I deserved it. Having someone believe in me, in this dream, and in the future I’m trying to build makes a world of difference.
Each of these partnerships reminded me that local business is about people helping people, and that collaboration is what keeps creative economies thriving even when things fall apart.
The New Vintage Drift
Our new space is going to be different, but it’s also going to be smarter (and safer) It’s intentionally curated and built around accessibility, creativity, and calm. I’ve been thinking deeply about how to make the store feel welcoming for everyone, whether that means quiet shopping hours, new workshops, or expanding our Safe Space & Mental Health Resources initiative.
The store is evolving to reflect what matters most to me: sustainability, individuality, and community care. That’s also why I launched my new offerings through Buy Me a Coffee creative consulting, styling sessions, and ways to help fund free events and sliding-scale booth fees for new artists. Vintage Drift has always been about more than vintage clothing; it’s about connection and purpose.
There have been so many moments where I’ve wondered if it would be easier to walk away. But then I’ll get a message from a customer saying their Vintage Drift outfit made them feel confident again, or I’ll see a local artist thrive after vending one of my markets, and it all clicks back into place.
The truth is, I love this work, even when it’s exhausting. I love the thrill of the hunt, the creativity of curation, the buzz that builds as an event finally comes to life. I love styling someone in a way they’ve never seen themselves before, helping them discover confidence through color and texture. I love being that after-school hangout spot for middle and high school kids who just need a place to go, a soft landing where they’re welcomed exactly as they are. Most of all, I love this community, the people who have rallied, time and again, around small businesses like mine and reminded me why this work matters so deeply.
