The End of a Chapter (And the Beginning of Something New)...

Going rogue, again.

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I’ve been anxious thinking about how to share this, and there’s really no elegant segue…

After nearly a decade, I’ve decided to step away from Maison Rogue.

The dream started in 2016 in the buying office at Barneys. What if we did things differently? What if we trusted our gut over the old rulebook? What if we just said fuck it and went rogue?

We built something from nothing. A brand, a community, a point of view. It was scrappy and imperfect and deeply personal - something I poured myself into at an age when most people are still figuring out who they are. I’m proud of that devotion and focus. Even if, every so often, I felt the quiet weight of what it asked me to set aside.

For a while now, I’ve known that it was time to move on. Not in a dramatic, sudden way. More like a slow, persistent knowing that I kept trying to outrun.

But Maison Rogue has felt like my child. I was 24 when we started it. It grew as I grew. So much of my identity has been wrapped up in it - I believed it was the whole book I was writing, not just a chapter.

Coming to terms with the idea that it might be time for me to step away from something I loved so deeply hasn’t been simple. It’s been the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to admit to myself. There’s a lot of grief, guilt, confusion, fear in it.

By nature, I’m fiercely loyal - to people, to commitments, to the things I care about. Sometimes that means staying longer than I probably should. Loyalty is a beautiful thing, until it asks you to stay tethered to a version of yourself you’ve already outgrown.

Walking away means I can’t avoid something I’ve been quietly wrestling with for years - who am I without this business that’s defined so much of my life.

And I don’t really know that yet. Which is equal parts terrifying and exciting. It’s an uncomfortable kind of growth, where you just have to trust that the version of you that stands on the other side of this is stronger, more grounded, more confident.

I’m deeply proud of what we built. I’m grateful for every brand that believed in us, and for every person who found their way to MR and felt like they’d discovered something special - a piece they hadn’t seen everywhere else, a brand they were just uncovering, a curation that somehow speaks directly to them. For the quiet excitement watching someone’s eyes light up when I say the name Maison Rogue and they pause, smile, and say, Wait - I know that. I follow you. I’ve shopped with you! Those moments never stopped feeling surreal.

I am endlessly grateful to my friends and family who have shown up in a million very real, very tangible ways over the past decade.

To the friends who gave us countless hours of love disguised as labor - modeling for photoshoots, helping produce content and creative, styling, schlepping boxes and racks, staying up late on nights and weekends simply because they believed in us. To the friends who trekked to our pop-ups in the pouring rain and freezing cold - who showed up no matter what.

To the ones who made Maison Rogue part of your lives - your closets, your gift lists, your milestones. To the people who, without fail, bought their holiday gifts, birthday gifts, just-because gifts with us every single year (hi, Nannie!). To my family & friends who didn’t just cheer from the sidelines but backed us in the most tangible way - by showing up at checkout.

To the years of free advice, the sounding boards, the people who lent their expertise and shared their knowledge generously. And to my parents - who didn’t just believe in this business, but have believed in every version of me, every idea, every pivot. That unwavering support is something I’ll never stop being grateful for.

There’s a part of me that has wrestled with the feeling that walking away means letting all of these people down - the people who poured into this alongside me. But what I hope you know is that your belief in me is part of what has given me the courage to step into whatever comes next.

I am endlessly filled with gratitude. I can never repay what you gave me - your time, your energy, your belief, your kindness. This chapter doesn’t exist without you, and neither do I.

So…what’s next? I’m exploring. Learning. Letting myself imagine work that feels fulfilling, creative, sustainable, energizing - and aligned with who I am becoming. I’m staying open to opportunities that don’t fit neatly into a box - ideas, directions, and conversations that wouldn’t have made sense to me even a year ago.

Above all, I am learning to trust the unknown - and to remember that sometimes the bravest thing you can do is - once again - go a little rogue.

With love,

Loren