I Confused Scaling With Growth: What a Failed Wholesale Launch Taught Me About Growing on My Own Terms

By Marike Anderson-Dam, Owner of Altadena Candle Company

(small.news) — When one of my retailers connected me with a Los Angeles wholesale showroom that sold products to boutiques across the Western United States, I was so excited. I was also riddled with anxiety.

Altadena Candle Company is a very small business. I make my candles myself, and much of my growth has happened through relationships—with local retailers, customers, collaborations, and the people who come to my candle-making classes. Suddenly, I was imagining orders coming in from stores across several states. How would I possibly make enough candles? How much inventory would I need? Was I ready for this?

I met with the showroom owners, and we mapped out an entire year of candles. I ordered vessels and fragrance oils, created display materials, and prepared for their big June market. I spent thousands of dollars getting ready for the anticipated growth.

I also changed my pricing model. Previously, I wholesaled a $28 candle for $14. But working with a sales representative meant adding a 15% commission, and the showroom recommended a higher suggested retail markup to account for retailers’ shipping costs. I raised my wholesale price, accepting that my margin on each candle would actually be smaller. That seemed reasonable because I was going to make it up in volume. I felt really uncomfortable with the possibility of pricing out the customer base I had worked so hard to build, but it felt like the price of expanding my business.

When the Orders Didn’t Come

The week of the June market, I heard nothing. After a couple of weeks, I still had no orders. After a month, it was clear none of their customers were interested in my candles.

I asked to meet with the showroom owners at the end of July. They were as confused as I was. They had thought my line would be an easy sell. We talked about price, packaging, fragrance, and what might be keeping buyers from ordering. I asked them to reach out to some of their retailers for feedback.

I felt disappointed and embarrassed. I had announced this expansion to followers and subscribers with so much enthusiasm, and now I had invested in growth that clearly wasn’t happening. Underneath the weight of failure, though, I also felt a huge sense of relief.

I had spent months worrying about whether I could become a candle factory, only to realize I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I felt financial and societal pressure to expand rapidly, but I was realizing that could come at the expense of the personal connections that inspired and energized my business.

Redesigning on My Own Terms

One retailer told the showroom she was interested in plant-based fragrance. I also felt that to reach more boutiques, I needed to invest in design in a way I hadn’t before. Instead of walking away and calling it a failure, I used it as an opportunity to create a candle line that reflected my personal aesthetic as an artist. This process wasn’t about figuring out what sells; it was about creating for my own joy.

I hired a designer and began developing a new plant-based collection with an artful, luxury feel. Finding plant-based fragrances that actually perform well in candles has been much harder—and more expensive—than I expected. I still don’t know exactly where this new line will lead, but neither did I know that teaching myself to make candles years ago would lead me to Altadena Candle Company.

As small business owners, we’re encouraged to think that growth means getting into more stores, producing more units, and increasing revenue. This experience made me realize I had confused scaling with success.

Some of the most meaningful parts of my business don’t scale particularly well: knowing my retailers, collaborating with other local businesses, teaching classes, meeting the people who burn my candles. Those relationships aren’t an obstacle to outgrow. They’re part of what I’ve built.

I still want to grow Altadena Candle Company—I’m just trying to be more thoughtful about what I’m growing toward. I don’t want a bigger business at the cost of the parts that made me want to build it in the first place. Maybe growth doesn’t always mean making more. Sometimes it means becoming more certain about what’s worth holding onto.

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