‍L: Tell me your origin story. Were you born in Portland?

M: Born and raised in Portland, OR, in a totally Portland, non-traditional home. My moms were very politically active, and I have lots of memories going with them to gay rights rallies and protests when I was little. My mom owned her own business, so I basically grew up in her day spa, working at the day spa before and after school. A strong work ethic has always been a part of my brother and my DNA. Everyone in my family worked really hard, we did not have a ton of money. High school was pretty traumatic honestly. I sought out ways to stay at other friends’ houses constantly, and then the recession hit, and my mom lost her business. We lost our home. So my senior year of high school, I actually didn’t have a home. I stayed with friends or grandparents until I headed off to college. College was my way out, and I focused all my energy on that.

…the recession hit, and my mom lost her business. We lost our home. So my senior year of high school, I actually didn’t have a home.

L: Where did you end up going for school?

M: Oregon State in Corvallis. It’s definitely where I started to find myself; where I met Valarie, who I’d eventually co-found Barbari with. And it’s when I really started my relationship with weed.

L: So prior to college, you didn’t really smoke?

M: I’d mostly drank in high school, tried weed but didn’t get into it. Then in college, I had a boyfriend at one point who was a dealer, so there was always weed around. I was getting more into it, and one day sophomore year, my roommate and I made a very college proposal to ‘smoke weed every day.’ I think I felt really good about weed because I associated it with those feelings of falling in love for the first time—it was like a dual exploration of my love for this college boyfriend and my love for weed. The boyfriend didn’t last, but the weed did.

I think I felt really good about weed because I associated it with those feelings of falling in love for the first time—it was like a dual exploration of my love for this college boyfriend and my love for weed.

L: How did you and Valarie end up connecting?

M: We were neighbors in this cul-de-sac filled with houses of all girls. There were mutual friends that connected all the houses, so we hung out constantly. I had the stoner house (we had a three foot bong; her name was Pele), Valarie had the dance party house with a huge basement, and the other house was the main party house with a beer pong table and all of that. That entire year of college we spent every day together. Open door policy between the houses, it was like a non-sorority sorority. No dudes, no politics, no weird hazing stuff—just a ton of cool women. On my 20th birthday, Valarie and I did mushrooms together for the first time, and it really solidified our friendship. After college, she drove with me cross-country to help me move to New York.

L: Why New York?

M: I love New York. It’s where I feel my most myself. I’d spent my junior year there in an exchange program at Queens College, and I was committed to coming back. I first worked at a website translation company, literally translating sites and ads into different languages. I was 21, the office was located on the 40th floor of a giant building on Park Avenue, I was like, ‘Oh my god, I’m Mary Tyler Moore.’ It was a ‘whatever-kind-of’ first job, but it was a great experience for me. Then I started at AdTech and worked there the next few years.

L: What was your weed scene like there?

M: When I was there the first year, while still in school, was my only time dealing. I didn’t know how to get weed, so I became my own source, and then my friends’ source. The goal was to smoke for free and meet new people, and selling weed is a great way to do that. A lot of friends happened to be athletes, so all of the sudden I was supplying nearly all the teams on campus. I turned my dorm suite into a very chill, welcoming environment. I’m not into sports, but I made it athlete friendly with a little Nerf basketball hoop, stuff like that. I’m glad my dealing days ended when they did, but it was a fun year.

Then when I moved to New York after college, I had friends who smoked. I had access to weed. I very much continued my rhythm of daily smoking. But working in start-ups is working around people who drink and do coke, so it made me kind of an outsider. I was always stigmatized for being a stoner. And I’m thinking, ‘I achieve 10 times more than you any given day, you can shut the fuck up.’ Everywhere I’ve worked, I’ve been ‘the stoner.’

When I was there the first year, while still in school, was my only time dealing. I didn’t know how to get weed, so I became my own source, and then my friends’ source. The goal was to smoke for free and meet new people, and selling weed is a great way to do that. A lot of friends happened to be athletes, so all of the sudden I was supplying nearly all the teams on campus. I turned my dorm suite into a very chill, welcoming environment. I’m not into sports, but I made it athlete friendly with a little Nerf basketball hoop, stuff like that. I’m glad my dealing days ended when they did, but it was a fun year.

L: Did experiencing those stigmas play a role in you deciding to move back to Oregon?

M: No. It was all Barbari.

In August of 2016, I was visiting home and Valarie and I met up. Weed had just been legalized for adult use in Washington, we drove up to Vancouver to shop at a legal dispensary, and went and got drinks to catch up. We talked a lot about how hard we were working, how tired we were of the grind—of work we were putting to the companies we were working at, and how we weren’t feeling the reward we expected. So much energy into making other people successful when they don’t seem to appreciate it. We were talking about where we hoped our futures would go.

Then Valarie shared that she’d been conceptualizing an early idea for a cannabis product and a brand—the product being the herbal spliff—and I was intrigued. I told her that if she ever got that off the ground, she could count on me for marketing.

L: Had you ever considered getting into the industry as signs of legalization were happening back home?

M: I never wanted to be an entrepreneur. After seeing my mom’s experience, I never wanted to have my own business. We always struggled with money growing up, and I never wanted to struggle like that again. My ten years in New York were all about chasing paper. Getting to that six figure salary. But as I was working towards that goal, I wasn’t feeling any happier. But we talked about how in the industry at that time, there wasn’t something that represented us, there weren’t any brands speaking to people who are using cannabis regularly and also achieving in their personal and professional lives. Nothing connecting cannabis with success.  My clients in NY were brands like Glossier and Casper, and we didn’t see anyone in the cannabis scene at that time with real brands like that.

we talked about how in the industry at that time, there wasn’t something that represented us, there weren’t any brands speaking to people who are using cannabis regularly and also achieving in their personal and professional lives. Nothing connecting cannabis with success.

I went back to New York after that weekend, and I kept thinking about the idea. I couldn’t stop thinking about the herbal spliff and the timing. I called her up and told her I wanted to help in whatever way I could, and let’s do this thing. Worst case, it doesn’t work out, and we keep doing what we’ve been doing. So we tried. And we haven’t stopped trying since.

L: How did you feel about moving back to little ol’ Portland after establishing yourself in New York?

M: Portland has always been a great intersection of artists and cannabis, it felt like a perfect launching place. My worries were about being back in Portland had everything to do with being from here. Being hesitant about being one of those people who comes back home and never leaves again. But Portland has grown and shifted, as have my communities here, which has made it a little more…palatable.

It’s tricky, there are so many layers to living in Portland. On the surface layer, it’s a beautiful, livable city with lots of cool things to do. But on a deeper level, there’s such a degree of entitlement, of everyone here feeling like they deserve this happy, balanced life, and the New Yorker in me is like, you have to work harder!

It’s tricky, there are so many layers to living in Portland. On the surface layer, it’s a beautiful, livable city with lots of cool things to do. But on a deeper level, there’s such a degree of entitlement, of everyone here feeling like they deserve this happy, balanced life, and the New Yorker in me is like, you have to work harder!

L: So you move back home and start building a brand with your college bud. Walk me through how many hats you’ve been wearing since then.

M: We truly do everything ourselves. Sourcing ingredients, prepping and mixing the blends, dealing with regulatory requirements, content creation for the site and socials, running our e-comm, accounting and websites, running booths and pre-roll bars IRL at events, and more. Every night we’re processing herbs and orders and shipping them out to customers. But we’re very excited to be hiring our first production person soon.

L: What has been Barbari’s biggest challenge?

M: Navigating this smokable herbal/herbal spliff category. We’re the first in Oregon. We’re not the first ever CBD herbal spliff, but I think we’re one of the larger, known herbal spliff companies? And leading a category like that is really tricky from a regulatory standpoint. It truly took us four years to get to herbal spliff to market. We had to work with the state’s regulatory system, the Oregon Liquor Control Commission, to essentially amend the laws around ‘adulterated pre-rolls,’ as a company that did not ourselves have an OLCC license. We had to create other products and other brand identities to keep building towards this launch over the years, introducing customers to the herbal blends before they saw them mixed with hemp in a spliff, and hopefully mixed with weed in a spliff eventually.

It truly took us four years to get to herbal spliff to market. We had to work with the state’s regulatory system, the Oregon Liquor Control Commission, to essentially amend the laws around ‘adulterated pre-rolls,’ as a company that did not ourselves have an OLCC license.

Being a part of The Initiative’s accelerator program really helped us progress. We were part of the inaugural class of brands in the incubator, and it taught us so much about running a business, funding a business, and overall just helped us crystallize what we wanted to do with Barbari.

L: You’ve done all your own fundraising, and you’ve done well. Was it intimidating to pitch yourselves to investors at first?

M: The Initiative was an amazing boot camp to get us prepared for pitching ourselves. Valarie and I are also hyper organized people. We wrote all these potential questions that would be asked of us, and all our potential answers. We took exact notes on every question asked to us in every meeting, how we answered every question—we wrote every detail down. After every conservation, even a practice conversation, I’d rate myself. We broke it down into a streamlined process that just made the whole effort more manageable. Being in the startup space in New York where it’s hyper-funded, I saw how much money flowed into all the companies I was working with. It took a lot of the mystery and intimidation away from the concept, because I saw the clowns and bros going into these boardrooms and walking out with hundreds of thousands or millions of dollars. I was like, ‘if they can do it, we can definitely do it.’ So Barbari was my first time fundraising on my own, but I’d been around it before and was not unfamiliar with this space.

I saw the clowns and bros going into these boardrooms and walking out with hundreds of thousands or millions of dollars. I was like, ‘if they can do it, we can definitely do it.’

Our first real fundraising attempt was at ArcView up in Vancouver, B.C. in April 2019. It was crazy, a whole area filled with cannabis investors. We talked to as many people as possible. We cared deeply about not only finding investors, but finding investors that fit the profile of who we wanted to work with. People who saw our vision and cared about the same things we did.

At one point, I’m running to a meeting, and I realize I forgot something, and I make one misstep on an escalator, and completely ate shit. Smashed the glass I’d been holding, there is literally blood everywhere from my knee to my shin and down my ankle. I have no time. I fly down the escalator, go into this meeting having just eaten it in front of many, many people. But I sat down, crossed my clean pant leg over my bloodied one, and they never noticed. I bled through that entire meeting. One of our investors said one of the reasons he invested in us was seeing our hustle that day.

L: I think a lot of people associate investors with sacrifice. Losing control, losing equity, etc. Did you have to make any tough compromises with investors?

M: There were a few people who wanted to invest in us but it was clear that money was their only priority, and that was not who we wanted to work with. The people we did go with are almost all investors who want to support women-owned brands, and we don’t feel like we’ve had to sacrifice a thing so far. We have an amazing group of investors, all of whom continue to invest in us and have really proven their commitment to Barbari.

From the beginning, Valarie and I were very intent on operating by our own, unique metrics of success. Success to us does not mean profitability alone. Even during that first conversation over drinks that led to Barbari, we wanted to start a company that built up the community in tandem with the company’s growth. The success metrics of the community were tied in with the success of the business. We redefined what success means to us, so that however the business was doing, as long as we were following our community-centric model, we were succeeding. And investors are getting to a point where they are understanding how that adds brand value—letting brands do what they’re good at doing.

Success to us does not mean profitability alone. Even during that first conversation over drinks that led to Barbari, we wanted to start a company that built up the community in tandem with the company’s growth.

L: What is something you hope to see in the next year, as far as the cannabis industry scene and cannabis culture goes?

M: I would love to see the cannabis industry unionize. I’m a big proponent of labor unions. They’ve been on the decline the past few years, I think just because of capitalism, but the cannabis industry is fueled by laborers: growers, trimmers, processors, retail workers, and so often you hear about the micro–macro abuses cannabis workers are exposed to. It’s not legal, it’s not ok, and this is what labor unions are for. They come in and they fight for equal rights and equal opportunities for all. I think the industry could really grow from a union emerging. There doesn’t even need to be a special cannabis union, an existing one could open up to cannabis workers. Once I’m out of manifesting mode, I’d like to dedicate more time to that effort.

…the cannabis industry is fueled by laborers: growers, trimmers, processors, retail workers, and so often you hear about the micro–macro abuses cannabis workers are exposed to.

L: What’s your advice to emerging entrepreneurs?

M: Define your own success. Once we solidified our mindset around that, things really started moving for us. We had identified our business type, our category, our metrics of success — we stopped trying to fit conventional norms and once we did, we were much more successful. Also, patience. You only fail if you quit. And even then. But that’s the only thing that’s going to stop you — if you choose to stop. It’s not easy, and Valarie and I have had to make sacrifices with our families, our jobs, our relationships, and those people have to have the patience for you as well.

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