What a couple of weeks to be a girl who loves founders, brands, music and culture.
Somewhere between Justin Bieber honoring his younger self at a desk at Coachella and Jo Malone crying for hers on Instagram, something is happening that feels really human.
TBH, as someone who can teach you a lot about Claude and all the AI tricks in the world right now, I'm more interested in seeing humans find their way back to themselves. Besides, Claude can teach you all the Claude tricks, you don't need me for that.
There's a version of success that requires you to slowly become someone you don't recognize. Where the bigger the thing gets, the more you have to translate yourself for new audiences, perform a version of you that's more palatable, more produced, more — idk something.
And at some point you look up and you're not quite sure where you went.
Both of these moments, in completely different ways, are about someone really refusing to do that. Or in Jo's case, fighting like hell to undo it.
I’m thinking about them together because they're both pointing at the same thing. It’s not exactly a cultural moment; it feels like something a little older than that. The question of whether you get to stay yourself when the thing you built gets bigger than you.
Jo Malone: I Did Not Sell Myself
Here's the story if you missed it.
In 1999, Jo Malone sold her fragrance brand to Estée Lauder. As part of that deal, she signed away the right to use her own name commercially in fragrance.
She stayed on until 2006, then left. Built Jo Loves from scratch. Started creating again — including a collaboration with Zara, under her name. In March 2026, Estée Lauder filed a High Court claim. Trademark infringement and breach of contract.
And then Jo Malone got on Instagram, crying….
She followed it with: "If I cannot be me, who on earth am I meant to be for the rest of my life?"
In the video, she introduced herself not as a brand, not as a founder, as "the person, fragrance creator, the entrepreneur, the cancer survivor." And then she made her argument publicly.
I've read a lot of takes on this since it happened. Most of them focus on the legal question — who's right, who's wrong, what the contract says. And of course that matters. But the part that really got me is the identity question underneath all of it.
Because here's what's actually happening, and it's way more common than we talk about. We've seen versions of it with Bobbi Brown. With our girl Martha Stewart too.
We see it everywhere in the creator brand era. Founders sell companies and artists license away their ideas. This stuff all happens every day, but they don't fully feel what they're giving up until the day they want to create again.
Your name, your likeness, your aesthetic, your creative signature — these are all IP. And in the excitement of an exit or a big deal partnership, the contract you sign can define what you're allowed to be for the rest of your career. The deal that felt like a finish line can become a ceiling.
This isn't a "don't sell" story. It's a know exactly what you're leaving behind before you do story. Because there's a difference. A big one.
And the scarier, more nuanced thing underneath all of that: what Estée Lauder is arguing is that "Jo Malone" now belongs fully to the brand. That consumers associate the name with the company, not the person. And tbh? In a way they're right.
That's what 25 years of brand-building does. That’s what having impeccable Founder Lore does.
It slowly transfers the meaning of a name from a human to a product.
This is both the power and the danger of building something founder or artist led — especially in the creator brand era, where the person IS the product. The more you embed yourself into what you build, the more you become it. Just know what that means if you ever want to leave.
What Jo Malone is fighting for isn't just her name on a bottle. It's the right to keep creating as herself. To not be erased by the very thing she made.
Justin Bieber at Coachella: The Macbook + The Kid From Youtube All Grown Up
So, a few days after Jo’s post, the collective attention pivoted to Coachella.
And our headliner’s performance has been the talk of the internet.
We're so used to seeing full-on production. Backup dancers, costume changes, over the top set design. That's so normal for a Coachella headliner. And tbh, we've all been over-producing our lives in some capacity in this internet era.
Halfway through his set, Justin sat down at a desk, opened a MacBook, and started pulling up old YouTube videos of himself as a kid. Songs he hadn't performed in over a decade. Clips of mini-Justin doing bedroom covers that first put him on the map.
He sang along. He honored every version of himself, even the "cringy" ones while 100,000+ people watched him watch himself grow up out there on those Coachella grounds.
But this wasn’t intended to be a comeback exactly. It felt like something a bit rarer. A public accounting of who he actually is and has been, every single version. And he let everyone in on that. I kinda loved it.
He didn't seem to walk out with confidence. He was alone, with just his voice. Then a couple of collaborators joined him. Then 25 minutes of old YouTube clips, self-karaoke, the spinning wheel of wifi death, and somewhere in the middle of all of that, it seemed like his confidence arrived.
So often, we wait to feel ready before we show up. But readiness isn't what people actually give a shit about. Watching someone find their footing in real time — that's hard to look away from. When you strip everything back... no over-polished deck, no perfect brand photos, no overly ChatGPT'd positioning — and you're still compelling, that's when people know you're the real thing.
Most creators and founders bury the early work and all those rough drafts. The version of themselves that was figuring it out in public gets hidden away.
But that's exactly the version people actually trust. And it can feel scary to bring that version back. But our origin stories aren't embarrassing. They're evidence of the beauty of our evolution. That's your lore.
Bieber has stories, and we all know them: he canceled a world tour, disappeared for years, got into it with the paparazzi, was memed over and over — then showed up with a pretty killer Grammy performance in his boxers and two warm-up shows at the Roxy and the Troubadour.
He didn't hide that arc.
Sitting at that desk, singing "Everything Hallelujah" with tears in his eyes, singing Hailey's name, his son's name, he seemed to be reporting back from a war he actually fought. If you’ve nearly quit, pivoted hard, or built through chaos: that's not baggage to stash away, okay?!
Rolling Stone called it too basic, but while he was being basic, the crowd in the field stretched back to the ferris wheel… it was one of the largest crowds in Coachella history. The critics who felt underserved were never going to be his people. His people felt seen — and that's the only metric that compounds.
This Is Why I Love Working on Lore
On the surface, Justin and Jo seem like completely different stories. One is about stripping everything back. One is about fighting to get yourself back.
But they're both about the gap between the person and the product. Between the creator and the creation. Between who you actually are and what the world has decided you should be.
The most powerful thing you can do in a performance, in a business, in a piece of content, in a product launch, or whatever your thing is, is show up fully as yourself. Don’t ever forget the version that's been there since the beginning. The version that started the thing before it was a thing. The version that has a point of view so specific and so personal that it can't be replicated, acquired, or named in a legal claim.
Your lore. Your rough drafts. Your creative signature. The taste that got you here, and the person still becoming. That's the thing worth building.
Smart Girl Opportunities
Replay: Cult Brand Blueprint™ Workshop If you missed the Content Audit workshop this is your final chance to watch it before it’s gone. → https://www.ouiwestudio.com/cult-brand-blueprint-training
Content Weekend New York — September 2026 We just wrapped up our Hollywood Hills content weekend, and honestly, it was my favorite event of the year so far! I’m hosting our second content weekend of 2026 in September, and this time we’re going to New York. We’re already almost sold out, so if you’ve been thinking about joining us, now is the moment (we have a payment plan too). Details are here. → https://www.ouiwestudio.com/content-weekend-ny-sept-26
SMART. STRATEGIC. CEO. — one spot open for May If you’d like to work with me in a 3-month private advisory partnership, having me in your business as your fractional Chief Brand Officer, I have one more space for May - July. I’ll be inside your positioning, messaging, visibility strategy, and decision-making. → Apply or inquire here.
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