I want to talk about customer service.
Not the smiley, "customer is always right" version — the real and raw thing I experienced.
The part that’s messy and exhausting and, honestly, disgusting at times. The part no one prepares you for, where you stand in front of your own work while people pick it apart like they’re carving a chicken.

For years, I avoided this part of business.
Being at the forefront.
Being the face of my product.
Selling my work to actual people.

Because I know how people are.
I come from small business.
I run a childcare center.
I know customers. I know human behavior.
I know the entitlement.
I know how some people speak to you like you’re an automated system instead of a person with breath and nerves.

The day of my very first pop-up, I was excited.
My displays were perfect. The mannequins were perfect.
I stood there proud — I brought this to life.

And, of course, in true entrepreneurship fashion, the Shopify app crashed, our backup system made no sense, and we hadn’t planned for cash sales. Chaos. But we figured it out. We kept going.

About an hour in, I watched a woman walk up the stairs, look directly at me… and turn around and walk right back out.

I was stunned.
What did I do?
I still don’t know.

Minutes later, another customer walked in, stared at me, walked straight to the rack, grabbed a tunic and said:

“These are the ugliest things I’ve ever seen.”
Called it a garbage bag.
And walked out.

I wish I could tell you I laughed it off.
No.
I stood there holding that moment like a stone.

There were so many moments this year when I wanted to hide.
Curl up in a corner.
Disappear.

The intrusive thoughts came heavy:
Run away.
You’re not ready.
The product isn’t perfect.

And the thing is — I know every hiccup.
Every mistake in the back.
Every delay and miscommunication.
I know how the product could have been better.
And this year, it wasn’t perfect.

Facing customers while holding all of that in your head and heart is its own kind of vulnerability.

You’re not just selling a product.
You’re standing in front of your own learning curve.

I’m not sharing this for sympathy.
I’m sharing it because this is the part of entrepreneurship no one glamorizes — especially not in fashion.

Customer service isn’t just smiling and saying “How can I help you?”
Sometimes it’s swallowing a comment that stings.
Sometimes it’s going home and replaying one interaction all night.
Sometimes it’s reminding yourself: I belong here, even when someone else can’t see it.

This is one part of the story.
In my next post, I’m going to talk about another side of customer service — the one that doesn’t just hurt your feelings, but hits your bottom line.

Stay tuned.

— Nawal