The Work Begins
Momentum Meets Meaning.
It started with that fourth order notification. That little sound.
I was sitting at my desk, half working on the Hog Sparks app, half refreshing my Shopify screen like a maniac, and when it came through, I just blurted it out loud, “This is so awesome.” I didn’t even mean to say it. It just slipped out.
And it was. It really was.
Seeing the names come in - people I love, people I haven’t talked to in years, coworkers, family, friends - each one felt like a small spark of belief. They didn’t have to buy anything. But they did. And that means something.
Every new order that popped up on my screen, I wrote down on sticky notes. The order number got its own sticky, and then each item they ordered got its own too - lined up underneath like a little family of color-coded excitement. My whole wall became a growing mural of names and products and promises I now had to keep.
That’s when it really hit me: People paid for this. I have to deliver.
It’s one thing to dream, file an LLC, and make a website. It’s another thing when people use their real money to buy what you built.
That’s when my dream turned into a tangible responsibility.
The next few days were chaos in the best possible way. Boxes were showing up faster than I could open them - blanks, mailers, packaging tape, inserts, tubs, supplies. Every day felt like Christmas morning meets a warehouse delivery gone rogue.
Ryan was breaking down cardboard nonstop; the garage looked like a shipping depot. The boys were in heaven, turning the boxes into forts and race cars. The sound of Falling in Reverse was blasting through the house - it was loud, messy, wonderful, alive. They always pull me through many late-night grinds.
I was finally building something you could see, touch, and trip over.
Then came the first time I held the real thing. The first press. The first crooked, misplaced little Hog.
It was heavy - the press, the process, the meaning. I’d watched so many YouTube videos, read so many tips, measured and remeasured, and finally, there it was: the dream from July, now sitting warm in my hands.
It wasn’t perfect. The tilt was there, and it was way too low. But still, I couldn’t stop staring at it.
Three months ago, this was a lightbulb in my head. Now it was real. Tangible. A vehicle that could drive something bigger - connection, community, purpose.
Every little decision that got me here, the fabrics, the colors, the fonts, the shape of the Hog, the IO in its nose - all those tiny, deliberate choices built this moment. No days off, no “later.” Just relentless momentum.
The first 16 orders of 26 items, all four Launch Hog communities represented, are all on my wall now. Friends, family, coworkers, believers. I haven’t packaged them yet, but I’ve got everything ready: the poly mailers, the tape, the stickers, the scales, the inserts, the printers. The logistics are coming together piece by piece.
It’s overwhelming, but it’s so unbelievably exciting. This is so real now.
I’ve said from the beginning that The Identity Outpost isn’t just about apparel - it’s about people. It’s about those little sparks that happen when you spot another Hog out in the world - maybe you’re both Coffee Hogs, or one’s a Paw Hog and the other’s a Fit Hog.
You stop, you smile, maybe you talk, and suddenly, two strangers have something in common.
Maybe that small moment turns into something bigger… A friendship, a collaboration, a memory that wouldn’t have existed otherwise. That’s what this whole thing is about. That’s the power of this Hog - it opens doors, starts conversations, and builds something bigger than any one of us.
See you in the next Note,
Lyndsie
Founder, The Identity Outpost
