Four years ago, I sat down to write the very first post on this blog. It was called "Baby Stepping into a Side Hustle," and in it, I made a case for not ruling yourself out. I had never started a business before. I didn't think of myself as a "founder" type. But I gave myself permission to take one small step — and then another — and eventually those baby steps became First Peak.
Today, I'm sitting down to write what is, in some ways, the closing chapter of that story. And in other ways, the opening of the next.
Starting this month, First Peak will be winding down its direct-to-consumer operations: the website, the email list, and social media will all come to a close by June 6. This has been a quiet decision — one I've sat with for a while — and one I feel certain is the right one. In the spirit of authenticity that has always guided this business, I want to share why.
The case for naming your ending
A friend and advisor recently shared advice that has stuck with me: he said he wished more businesses would strategically close — that too many linger on, propelled by inertia rather than intention, long after they've served their purpose. There was something to be admired, he said, about recognizing when something has run its course, naming that ending clearly, and channeling your energy toward what comes next.
I've thought about that a lot. And I think he's right.
I'm proud to say that First Peak accomplished what I set out for it to accomplish. And I'm proud to be the one to close it — not because it failed, but because it succeeded. What comes next — whether that's a new adventure, a new creative project, or simply two little kids who deserve my fuller attention — will be richer for it.
The kids who started it all
When I filed for our first business license, my son was 1.5 years old and perched on my hip. He was the reason I started First Peak: I couldn't find clothes that could keep up with him. He moved constantly, played relentlessly, and somehow managed to outgrow sizes before I'd finished laundering them. So I decided to make something better.
He's five now. And his little sister — the one I was pregnant with when First Peak hit its first profitable year — just turned two. They are wilder, more curious, and more full of life than I ever could have imagined. As the Spring weather warms and the days get longer, all they want to do is be outside.
Here's the truth: my family loves to travel and explore. And as my kids have gotten older, I've felt a growing pull to be fully, un-distractedly present for those adventures — not mentally tethered to a shipping schedule, not checking inventory from a campsite, not splitting my attention between the mountains in front of us and the business back home.
Meeting my learning goals
In that first blog post, I described approaching First Peak the way I'd approach a course of study: I wrote down the things I wanted to learn, found people who could teach me, and took it one step at a time. I never thought of myself as "starting a company"; I was just a student taking the next class.
Four years later, I've completed the curriculum, and I'm proud of what I built along the way.
First Peak has served hundreds of families. We launched products I'm genuinely proud of, manufactured locally in the Bay Area with women-owned partners and sustainable fabrics. We earned a 98% five-star review rating. We were named one of Babylist's best baby clothing brands three years in a row. And we achieved the milestone I set out most deliberately to reach: we became a profitable business.
I set out to learn how to build something from nothing. I’m so proud to have done that.
What's next — for me, and for First Peak
Closing our direct-to-consumer operations doesn't mean I'm walking away from the work entirely. I plan to continue pursuing the parts of running First Peak that have brought me the most joy: the product design process, collaborating with other business owners and makers, creating something tangible. I'll just be doing it on my own terms, through occasional business-to-business opportunities, rather than through the daily demands of running a consumer brand.
In other words: I'm stepping back from the pieces that have drained my energy — the marketing, the social media, the logistics — and leaning into the pieces that have lit me up.
What this community gave me
Before I close, I need to share one of my most important take-aways from this whole experience: First Peak’s success is attributable to each of you. Not in the abstract way that sounds good in a closing letter — in an entirely literal way.
First Peak has introduced me to so many of you on a personal level, both in-person and from afar. We've had weekends in the mountains together, hiked in state parks across the US, and found ourselves taking in the views on three different continents. You’ve given feedback, shared ideas, and voted in countless input surveys. I have made real, lasting friendships through this business — friendships I never would have predicted, and that I will carry with me long after the website goes dark.
You've shared photos from trails and beaches and backyards and airports. You sent DMs that made me laugh and emails that made me tear up. You said hi at early-morning markets, and kept me company at all-day pop-ups. You supported a tiny business run by one mom with a baby on her hip, and you turned it into something real.
For all of that, I am so, so grateful.
One last chance to stock up
The last day to order on firstpeak.co will be June 6, 2026. Starting this week, we're running our closing sale: 50% off site-wide, through our final day. As the days get longer and the weather warms up, this is your last chance to grab the pieces your little explorers love most.
Cheers to all the adventures ahead,
Jocey