Determination, creativity & cashflow:
A word from Alix #3
#empowerwomenthroughcreativity
Heimstone.
I want to share with you one of the most intense, restless, and terrifying experiences of my life: entrepreneurship and my journey with Heimstone. I’m often asked how I started, how I got into fashion, and what I was doing before… So, I’ll tell you. But I’m also here to talk about the extraordinary experience and challenge of owning a business and what it has brought me on a personal level. Because yes, Heimstone has revealed who I am.
Creativity as a punishment
I grew up in a highly creative environment, with opportunities to travel extensively and spend a lot of time in art galleries and museums. My mother is an interior decorator who has always been self-employed, and my father worked in the advertising industry for many years before becoming the CEO of a large international company. Both have recently retired. As a child, I loved drawing, painting, knitting—I was captivated by colors, patterns, and fabrics, far beyond just fashion. School came relatively easily to me without much trouble. My twin sister and I attended a Catholic school in Paris, where blending in and going with the flow was the norm. We stood out, though—not only because we were twins, but because we were exceptionally tall! By our first year of high school, we were already 1.77 meters, towering over everyone, wearing size 41 shoes, and sporting blue shirts that marked us as first-years. I dreaded the start of each school year, worried that parents would think we were the two “big girls” who had repeated a grade. Throughout my school years, I felt it was best to keep a low profile. Being discreet came more naturally to me than to Caroline, who was much more outspoken.
A funny anecdote: Caroline was expelled in our fourth year after a teacher said, “After the rain comes fine weather,” and she, true to form, retorted, “Uh, no, not necessarily!” She insisted on her point—rightfully so—and three days later, she was expelled for insolence. After that, I became even more reserved, trying not to attract attention. This was when I really began to draw; it was my way of staying quietly engaged during class. Ironically, it eventually led to my own expulsion, with the clear reason given: “Spends more time drawing than listening to teachers.” Academically, I didn’t stand out, maintaining a modest average of 12, but I was always quietly sketching. What’s interesting is that my first real engagement with art and creativity was seen as a form of punishment—it wasn’t easy. After finishing my baccalauréat, I spent a year in a preparatory art class at the Atelier de Sèvres in Paris, as I initially wanted to follow in my mother’s footsteps and pursue a career in interior decoration or architecture.
A funny anecdote: Caroline was expelled in our fourth year after a teacher said, “After the rain comes fine weather,” and she, true to form, retorted, “Uh, no, not necessarily!” She insisted on her point—rightfully so—and three days later, she was expelled for insolence. After that, I became even more reserved, trying not to attract attention. This was when I really began to draw; it was my way of staying quietly engaged during class. Ironically, it eventually led to my own expulsion, with the clear reason given: “Spends more time drawing than listening to teachers.” Academically, I didn’t stand out, maintaining a modest average of 12, but I was always quietly sketching. What’s interesting is that my first real engagement with art and creativity was seen as a form of punishment—it wasn’t easy. After finishing my baccalauréat, I spent a year in a preparatory art class at the Atelier de Sèvres in Paris, as I initially wanted to follow in my mother’s footsteps and pursue a career in interior decoration or architecture.
The chrysalis and the butterfly
When I left fashion school, I realized I hadn’t acquired much practical knowledge beyond pattern-making. The curriculum focused heavily on sketching fashion silhouettes and creating a final-year collection, but I was missing essential skills like cost calculations, supplier negotiations, and production management. Despite this, my time at Atelier Chardon-Savard was valuable, and Michel Klein provided me with a real-world education. I worked across various aspects of the business—from production to creating technical files—and traveled often, including to India for production. It was there that I met Delphine, who would later become my partner in launching Heimstone. At 22, I was eager and motivated, always looking to learn more. I even took advantage of lunch breaks to sit with the company’s graphic designer and learn design software, determined to match his expertise.
To be driven by instinct
After 10 months with Michel Klein, in May 2006, I began to feel like I was going in circles for various reasons. Deep down, I knew I needed to move forward and do something bigger. I needed to test myself, to take a leap. To be honest, I didn't "need" it, but I felt a strong desire to dive into the unknown, attracted like a magnet to what I had yet to discover. I discussed this with my friend and colleague Delphine, suggesting we launch a small collection of accessories for the upcoming summer. That was when the seed was planted. By early June 2006, we began working on our accessory collection—necklaces and bracelets made from industrial bolts. By the end of June, what started as accessories had evolved into a swimsuit collection, and on July 12th, we both resigned from Michel Klein. In early August, we found ourselves in St. Tropez, free as birds, walking along the beaches of Pampelonne with our "Heim" swimsuits. We carried baskets over our shoulders, selling our first models to any girls we encountered. Our swimsuit concept was innovative: we had developed a seamless pattern for the top and bottom, with the swimsuits needing only to be tied. Instead of pearls, we used industrial bolts as our trademark. Most importantly, each piece was unique because they were all cut from vintage XXL "rock" t-shirts, so someone might end up with Michael Jackson or AC/DC on the back.
By the end of the summer, we had sold over 600 pieces and decided to officially launch our brand, this time with a ready-to-wear focus. For us, it was clear. Everything seemed obvious. Delphine and I complemented each other perfectly from a creative standpoint, and at that time, we were a rock-solid duo. We wanted our brand to stand out and give girls a compelling reason to come to "Heim." So, we decided that Heim would exclusively sell dresses—dresses for all occasions: office wear, Sunday outfits, formal and casual dresses. Nothing but dresses, designed to be as easy to wear as jeans, complete with pockets. From September to December 2006, we worked on developing our designs and traveled back and forth to India to produce our first collection, which we financed with the proceeds from our swimsuit sales. Our goal was to be ready to present our first "Heimstone" collection, AW07/08, in January 2007 during the shows. We changed the name because we felt that "Heim" was too cute and feminine, while "Stone" added a sense of grounding and determination. We calculated that we needed to sell 360 dresses to cover our expenses. I can still remember that we ended up selling 1,300 items! At 22 and 24 years old (Delphine), we felt like we were on the highway to success.
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Embracing the unknown and taking bold leaps are the keys to finding true success. What started as a small collection of accessories evolved into a thriving brand, proving that with creativity and determination, the path to success can be both unexpected and exhilarating”
The sinews of war
The success of our first season filled us with overwhelming joy, giving us incredible strength and confidence. Delphine and I were complementary in our approach. We shared similar tastes but had entirely different ways of expressing them. Delphine had a more rock and masculine style, while I leaned towards the feminine. We didn't panic about the same issues, which was great. However, we hadn't anticipated a major problem: how could we finance the production of 1,300 pieces? We never imagined we could face bankruptcy because we had sold three times more than planned! We were suddenly confronted with the reality of what I now consider the key to a healthy business: cash flow and working capital requirements.
We opened our Heimstone store in October 2007 at 23 rue du Cherche-Midi, 75006 Paris. Suddenly, costs were soaring: we needed management software, we were selling wholesale worldwide, and we had to establish the brand in all these countries. At every level, money was tied up: we bought too much, had excessive material stocks, our margins weren't large enough, wholesale customers paid us with a six-month delay, while our factories demanded payment before unloading the trucks. Cash flow is a vicious circle; once you're in the eye of the storm, it's very difficult to escape.That's when my father became involved in the company, first as a mentor, and very quickly as an investor to support our launch. Managing cash flow became the biggest challenge of my career. When you have your own brand, the reality is: you spend 20% of your time doing what you love, and the remaining 80% fixing problems.
In February 2009, Delphine and I parted ways, and I found myself in total command of Heimstone, with a sense of freedom mixed with fear. I was still well-supported by my family, who were never too far from me. What's truly extraordinary to me is that when I look back now, 12 years ago, at all the ups and downs that shaped Heimstone and all the doubts I had, neither my parents nor anyone in my family ever gave up or suggested I should move on to something else. That support is worth more than anything in the world.
Saved by determination
Saved by determination
In February 2009, after my partner left, I felt more determined than ever. With a fantastic team, including problem-solver Jehanne De Wavrechin, I woke up stronger each day, driven by the belief that Heimstone’s success depended on my energy, work, and problem-solving skills. I embraced the freedom to tackle challenges, arriving at the office early and methodically addressing each issue. I took on tasks like accounting and supplier management, quickly mastering them but still chasing profitability. The experience boosted my confidence and taught me the true meaning of effort. Despite the stress, I maintained my well-being with daily runs and Thai massages, celebrating every small victory. Reflecting on those first seven years, it feels like a different life, filled with constant learning and adaptation. I’m still thinking of my husband, Onur, who has had his own companies since 2007 (Found and The Refreshment Club), who told me he wanted to write a book about entrepreneurship that would call "The art of fucking".
Chapter 1: The art of getting fucked
Chapter 2: Learning how to fuck
Chapter 3: The art of fucking
I think it’s hilarious, because in a way, it’s exactly the way it is…
In 2012, facing frustrations with wholesale distribution and cash flow issues, I decided to shift our business model. I notified our customers just days before our collection presentation that we were stopping wholesale, despite the risk of a dramatic drop in turnover. This bold decision was driven by the need to start fresh and escape the constraints that had become exhausting. Looking back, I’ve never regretted this choice, and during that Fashion Week, I enjoyed a sense of freedom under the Australian sun.
Get up by creativity
Get up by creativity
Starting over from scratch is extraordinary, allowing us to rethink and redefine everything, but with five years of intense experience. I needed to rewrite the story, starting with a big cleanup to free myself from middlemen, banks, accountants, and part of my team. I don't denigrate these people who supported me, but I needed a fresh start with new people. We went from seven to three. We launched a mini production just for our shop, reducing our production costs by three. I cut all possible costs, with transportation costs dropping by 70%. It was such a relief!
We opened a second shop rue Cambon and launched our own e-shop. The e-commerce became our international shop and showroom, working well immediately. In July 2014, we sold the rue Cambon shop to focus on our e-shop and the rue du Cherche-midi shop. Since then, we've been totally self-financed, free, and profitable. For nothing in the world would I change Heimstone's story.
Today, our approach at Heimstone is straightforward: we create capsule collections based on the current weather rather than traditional seasons. This shift has allowed us to expand our collections and dedicate more time to the creative process, increasing from three prints per season to eight. Simplifying our business model has also freed me up to explore other projects beyond Heimstone. I now have the flexibility to collaborate with other brands or work on “off” projects—like designing wallpapers or set designs for stores—without directly involving Heimstone.
Additionally, this freedom has enabled me to focus on our journal Apero, which is close to my heart. Rethinking Heimstone has also given me precious time with my family, allowing me to witness my daughters grow up and take care of my husband. This personal time is invaluable. Heimstone has taught me to think outside the box and manage my life proactively. I’ve learned that creativity isn’t just about making collections; it’s about embracing the challenges and not settling for a predetermined path. Life without effort, adrenaline, and occasional setbacks can feel mundane. When asked for advice on running a business, I emphasize: