In 2025, I watched a lot of new baby brands enter the fashion space. At first, it bothered me. But this year forced me to confront that reaction and actively work on building an abundance mindset. There is space for everyone. And more importantly, there is room to build something meaningful, if you’re willing to stay focused on why you started.
One habit I’m intentionally trying to build is writing an annual reflection letter to myself. Something honest. Unfiltered. A place to document what it actually takes to build a brand. The goal would be to not just highlight the wins, but the confusion, the missteps, and the growth that happens quietly in between.
Starting the year with gratitude and grounding
The year began with a dinner alongside people who helped move Tiny Culture forward. If there’s one lesson I keep relearning, it’s this: I cannot (and should not) do this alone. The people around you matter deeply. They will either help carry the vision forward or make it clear when change is needed.
That realization set the tone for the year.
Testing, learning, and letting go of perfection
This year, we finally tested sleepwear, a category we had been talking about for a long time. We wanted something gender-neutral, something that could be shared between siblings and passed down within families. We paired the sleepers with hats, thinking it would complete the look.
In hindsight, I wouldn’t have ordered the hats. The sleeper was strong on its own and sometimes I tend to think I need to add more. Every time someone sends me a photo of their baby wearing it, the hat just doesn’t quite land (for me). A miss but an important lesson for myself that not everything needs to be extra.
Sleepwear also pushed us into another reality: inventory management. We officially took over my parents’ basement and turned it into a mini warehouse with shelves, bins, and size-based organization. Inventory sounds boring until you’re juggling what’s in stock, what’s reserved for photography, promotions, damaged items, and upcoming events.
This was our first real attempt at building structure. It wasn’t perfect, but it was necessary.
Creative chaos (with slightly better planning)
We hosted a baby photoshoot to launch the sleepwear line, and like all baby shoots, it was chaotic and memorable all at once. This time, we were more organized with outfits and babies, which helped.
Where we fell short was creative direction. We didn’t provide a mood board or inspiration images to our photographer in advance. We didn't have a clear vision but we were on a tight timeline so we just ran with it. While we walked away with launch-ready photos, better planning would have allowed us to capture content that could live longer and work harder across platforms.
Another lesson for me, clarity upfront saves time later.
Learning, showing up, and selling in person
This year, we committed to showing up in person more intentionally. Thanks to a recommendation from my former colleague Betsy Duggan, we were invited to participate in International Women’s Day at the Interac office alongside other women-owned brands.
Until then, Tiny Culture had primarily been an e-commerce brand. Selling in person required a completely different muscle. We had to tag inventory, purchase payment systems, physical setup, transporting product, and thinking through the customer experience in real time. Floor stands, tablecloths, logistics...it was all new for us.
It was humbling and empowering all at once.
To capture the chaos of that season, I landed in Toronto on March 1, hosted our first pop-up on March 5, and flew to India on March 7. Everything blended together.
India, perspective, and building with my mom
When I arrived in India, I felt overwhelmed. We had fabric across multiple locations, existing inventory to work through, and new designs to consider. Trying to organize everything while being mindful of my mom, who was working EST hours from Kerala, was stressful.
But being there gave me clarity. I started bringing our audience along for the journey. I was sharing fabric options, design decisions, and asking for feedback in real time. The response surprised me. People cared and they wanted to be part of the process. I missed having Dil there with me but I knew she needed to be with her family while she was expecting baby #2.
My mom and I signed a new manufacturer at Lulu mall and introduced a brand new design just in time for the April Baby Show in Toronto.
The most meaningful part of those weeks, though, was doing all of this with my mom by my side. Three uninterrupted weeks together, something I rarely get. That time mattered more than any product launch.
Babies, travel, and survival mode
April moved quickly. Celebrating Dil as she prepared to welcome baby #2. Celebrating my friend Krystsina welcoming her first baby. Family milestones layered on top of nonstop travel.
Looking back, it’s no surprise my health took a hit. High cortisol, constant movement, very little rest. I was putting on a lot of weight.
Still, Dil and I prepared for our first-ever baby show. Setting up that booth felt like opening a tiny retail store for the first time. Family and friends helped us pull it off, and we had Liza even reorganized our displays by colour. She was teaching us how to merchandise properly in real time.
That show changed everything. For the first time, we spoke directly with customers, heard feedback face-to-face, and watched people engage with Tiny Culture beyond a screen.
Getting serious about the brand
After the baby show, we made a decision we had been avoiding, redoing all of our product photography. It was feedback we had received multiple times, including from the founder of Female Founder World, Jasmine, thank you! This time, we listened.
We also created our first-ever line sheet. It might sound small, but for two founders without retail backgrounds, it was a big step. The Whole Sale by Liza Amlani became a constant reference point for me. It was clear and practical as we knew we didn't know enough about retail.
Life happens all at once
Then life layered itself on top of business, anniversaries, moving apartments, wedding prep for my sister, and my sister-in-law graduating from her master’s program.
Tiny Culture didn’t pause. Neither did we.
We hosted more pop-ups, tested new cotton sets at Bramalea City Centre, and leaned (again) on the support of family and friends. One old high school friend even sent her mom to the mall just to buy an outfit from us. Those moments stay with you.
We attempted to reintroduce the Blossom & Bloom collection, navigated sizing issues with a new pattern, and handled our first custom order from a customer we met at the baby show. She wanted a white dress with a purple flower. We made two, just to be safe and our customer walked away happy.
A hard but necessary wake-up call
One of the most difficult moments this year came after an event in New York. Tiny Culture joined forces with Brderless and Goodszilla to host an event about Direct to Consumer Playbook: Breaking into retail.
After the event, I realized I hadn’t taken a single photo of our Tiny Culture table or outfits.
It upset me more than I expected. Not because of the photos, but because it forced me to confront a deeper truth that I hadn’t been treating Tiny Culture with the level of respect it deserved.
That realization really hurt me but it was necessary. Sitting with it changed how I approached the rest of the year.
Community, mentorship, and momentum
As the year progressed, I became more intentional about the rooms I entered. I reconnected with Joanna Griffiths, whom I first met in 2023 during International Womens Day in Ottawa. This time when I met her, I came with real challenges that I am facing with Tiny Culture and not just admiration alone. Her advice was clear to me, say the same message everywhere until something sticks. Test your message publicly. Then run with it.
She also encouraged me to collaborate with other founders and build brand awareness.
Shortly after, I ran into Suneera Madhani, someone I’ve admired for years and only met virtually. She called me out for not reaching out, for playing small, for being afraid of “wasting people’s time.” She was right.
Those two conversations shifted something in me. They reminded me that community isn’t passive. Mentorship doesn’t happen if you don’t step forward. And momentum doesn’t come from waiting until things feel perfect, it comes from showing up, asking, testing, and being willing to be seen before you feel ready.
Momentum builds when you show up
Coming out of Female Founder World, I felt ready to fight for Tiny Culture again. I randomly gifted an outfit to a couple I met in a coffee shop. I reached out to Nita (Next with Nita) before Diwali, and with Dil’s help, we pulled together a last-minute package for her little one.
Nita unexpectedly shared Tiny Culture with her community and we felt it.
We introduced our first-ever Christmas ornament and prepared for our first Brooklyn pop-up alongside Biz from Foxiecakes and Teja from Butter Be Kind at Stems. Watching these ladies build community so naturally reinforced what Joanna had said earlier, this is how brands grow.
That season, we also finally did something I’d wanted to do since the beginning... handwritten holiday cards!! Years ago, I heard the founder of Freja New York say she hand wrote a card to every customer. This year, we finally did it.
Looking Ahead
When I reflect on 2025, my biggest accomplishments weren’t financial. They were foundational.
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Our first baby show in Toronto
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Our first pop-up in Brooklyn
- Meeting customers face-to-face
It’s one thing to build a brand behind a screen. It’s another to ask people to care.
Next year, I want to grow as a marketer, not by selling harder, but by telling our story better. By focusing on how Tiny Culture should feel. By working up our social presence, ads, TikTok Shop, and community-building in a way that feels aligned.
2025, you were harder than I expected. But I think you were preparing me for what’s required in 2026.
I’m ready.
Thank you for following along as we continue building Tiny Culture.