EMME began as a passion project in the middle of the pandemic! After parting ways with my long-term freelance client, I suddenly found myself without a reliable source of income. I remember crying to Mark, who had always known about my dream of being my own boss, and he said, “Maybe it’s now or never.”

My eyes wandered around the room until they landed on a lavender-scented candle, and I wondered why all candles seemed to have the same generic scents. With the weight of the pandemic hanging over us, the homesickness of being across the country from family, and the realization that Asian scents and flavors weren’t represented in the American home fragrance market, we decided to start EMME.

When we first started, we leaned heavily on our childhood memories for inspiration. Lychee, our best-seller, for example, is inspired by the lychee gummy snacks we loved after school. But over time, we realized that simply replicating the past could only take us so far.

Now, we’re exploring fragrances that capture the places, moments, and rituals that shaped us. Fragrances that smell beautiful first and foremost, layered with depth, and always rooted in our shared heritage. This is a big evolution for EMME, especially since we’re known for nostalgic scents, but we believe it’s the beginning of a beautiful next chapter.

We think of EMME’s early years like living at home, bound to tradition and family heritage. This next phase is like leaving the nest: your first trip with friends or a partner instead of your parents. Horizons expand when you finally choose where to go and what to experience. It’s still us, but now with the cultural depth that comes from our own choices.

Mark and I both came from tech sales backgrounds, so in the beginning, we measured success in revenue. Each month had to beat the last, and we tracked daily, monthly, and yearly quotas to outperform. We weren’t racing against anyone but ourselves, and to us, success meant stacks of shipping labels and a lifestyle we could brag about, especially since sharing our wins was a big part of our social strategy.

But after years of tying our happiness to our net worth, we realized we were chasing a version of success defined by social media. Omakase and caviar no longer felt special, and Shopify numbers told only part of the story. On the outside, we had “made it,” but we knew something was missing.

Now, I define success as having time, choice, and enough. By that measure, I’m happy to say, we are successful.