Last June, after 575ish weeks of dropping Lady Parts in people’s inboxes, I decided to make the move over to Substack, the platform that now hosts our newsletter. With that has come so many new subscribers, which was kinda the point, so YAY a plan finally worked out, which feels rare over the past five/500 years. With so many new subscribers, I thought I’d reintroduce myself and the business behind this newsletter.
And if you’ve been following along for quite some time, there’s still some good stuff in today’s edition for you too ;)
Me, heed warnings? Depends.
I started sliding on snow as a teenager, and once I got the hang of it, I was hooked. I designed my life around chasing powder days, moving to Flagstaff and cutting my teeth in the industry as a repair tech at Arizona Snowbowl. Once I finished university, I was off to Lake Tahoe, where I was told by a prominent ski shop that I would only be hired to sell clothing because that’s what women did (they also told me to stop complaining about the nudie calendar in the shop because… representation?).
As someone who didn’t see herself or feel valued in a sport she loved, I aimed to change that for myself and others. I also thought it would be an interesting social experiment to see how people would respond to women in male fields. ICYMI, not well (and here’s the data to support that claim). And I thought it would be fun to fuck with ski bros, which turns out is as easy as showing up in the world as an unapologetic woman who knows her worth. Who knew?
I didn’t believe I would achieve what I set out to accomplish if I pursued a path expected of women—non-profits or apparel, for example—so I decided to manufacture hard goods. I started Coalition pre #femalefounder #girlboss #bullshit. Women in business were not trendy or cool, nor were we visible in the snowsports industry (unless you count those Lange Boot ads). The industry spoke to and about men, despite women constituting about half of all participants. I can count on one hand the number of ski and snowboard businesses started and run by women. And for good reason—it is not a welcoming or inclusive industry, hardgoods are expensive to manufacture and sell, and gatekeepers hold keys that aren’t handed over to people like me.
None of this deterred me because I believed that women in particular were hungry for something different—a community that would value camaraderie over competition, solidarity over sending, and compassion over cuntery. While I was onto something that ultimately led to a cult following (thank you), I grossly underestimated how much women would continue to seek the approval of men and how their whiteness and straightness were inherent obstacles I naively miscalculated.
Drugs really do make it better
I knew Coalition couldn’t show up like every other brand if we wanted to move the needle and gain traction in a very competitive and diluted space. Creating this newsletter was one way to stand out and use the business as a platform to create change. I was never that interested in the “the industry,” and TBH found it relatively boring, which is another reason why I don’t write about it. I realize that is both an unpopular opinion and also wild coming from someone who owns a ski and snowboard brand. Luckily my background in journalism (go Lumberjacks!) and master’s degree from Prescott College in bottom-up approaches to social change certainly have lent themselves to a career I never thought I’d have.
I remember the day I came up with the idea for Lady Parts—I was lying in bed in a little cabin on the west end of Donner Lake, recovering from ACL surgery. I knew I wanted it to follow the format of a personal essay, writing about topics rarely discussed in the snowsports industry. I wanted to normalize talking about social issues and our shared experiences as people who’ve been relegated to the margins. Despite or thanks to the oxy I was taking to ease the pain, the name Lady Parts popped into my head. I made myself laugh out loud, and the rest is history.
I lost track along the way, but this might be the 600ish edition of Lady Parts. It’s been incredible to share this space with you. I’m so grateful for the support, the kindness, and the community.
I’ve also been met with significant pushback over the years that goes something like blah whine blah skiing is supposed to be fun blah bleak blah I don’t want to read things that make feel bad about myself or the world around me blah ho hum whine blah keep politics out of skiing. Good thing for them every other brand has that covered! I would imagine they are breathing a sigh of relief now that they are no longer expected to be anything but themselves.
Fast forward nearly 15 years later…
I recognize there are young women today who have no idea that just a decade ago their experience sliding on snow would likely be completely different than it is now. Today they see themselves and can show up as their full selves, and that truly makes me happy. And while there certainly is still more work to be done—the industry hasn’t progressed by leaps and bounds—it is different, and I’d like to think that Coalition was a part of the change.
What’s transpired over the past 15 years at Coalition and in the industry is far too much to document in today’s newsletter, so I’m going to end it here.
Thanks for reading, and if you have any questions, I’m an open book.
Until next time…
Jen Gurecki, she/her, CEO of Coalition Snow
