Trading Hustle For Hearth: How Slow Sunday Began

If I can, I rise before them and slip onto the back porch with a cup of tea and my devotional (I love the Alabaster books), reading aloud as the sun lifts over the Tennessee hills. Usually one of my little ones is curled up next to me. By the time my husband returns from the gym, the rest of the house is stirring, and we gather for a full breakfast of fresh bread and eggs from our local farm. Then, like clockwork, he makes our coffee, and we sip it outside while the kids run barefoot through the yard. That’s where Slow Sunday began; not as a brand, but as a rhythm of life.

It wasn’t always this way. A few years ago, in California, I was caught in a cycle of distraction, discontent, and striving. I drove the brand-new luxury car, bought the latest designer bags, and obsessed over how I was perceived. I wanted people to see me as a “boss babe.” But even with all of that, I felt empty.

Downsizing our life brought us peace I didn’t know I was missing.

The shift came when we moved to Franklin, Tennessee. Suddenly, I was driving down quiet country roads instead of freeways, stopping at farm stands instead of malls, waking up to silence instead of sirens. Out here, people wanted to talk and connect. They weren’t rushing from one obligation to the next. It hit me hard: the real luxuries in life aren’t things, they’re found in slowing down. Downsizing our life brought us peace I didn’t know I was missing. Families had less but seemed more content. I realized I didn’t want the constant hustle anymore. I wanted presence. That longing, to savor small moments and strip life down to what really matters, became the foundation for Slow Sunday.

I know for many moms, slower living feels like an impossible dream. We’re told to fill our schedules, shuttle kids from one activity to the next, and keep climbing the ladder. But in my experience, you actually have to work harder to live slower. It means saying “no” often, resisting the pull of comparison, and rooting yourself in practices that bring peace. 

For me, that looks like reading with my kids to calm their minds (and mine), homeschooling so we’re not rushing out the door, taking long walks, avoiding too many extracurriculars, and prioritizing at least one shared meal every day. A woman at church once told me, “If families sat and talked at the table together, kids wouldn’t need therapy.” I think there’s truth in that. It sounds crazy, but our culture has become so busy we've missed one of the most important aspects of life: relationships.

These practices don’t just shape my family, they shape Slow Sunday, too. Our collections are intentionally small, feminine, and timeless, with each piece designed to be worn for decades and, one day, handed down to our daughters. In a world filled with brands constantly chasing trends with no real identity, I knew from day one that our pieces had to tell a story.

Slow Sunday is steeped in nostalgia. I think back to my childhood visits to England, where my grandma always carved out time for tea in the garden, no matter how busy she was with chores. We’d take forest walks with my grandad, wander charity shops, and discover little treasures I still keep today. That intentional slowness, that joy in small rituals, lives on in my work.

There’s also a distinctly American influence woven throughout. I’ve always loved old, worn things—the red barns I pass on Tennessee backroads, the weathered quilts in antique shops, the American flags faded with time. These details find their way into our collections: a patchwork dress inspired by a quilt I thrifted, a coat drawn from the image of an aged green barn with a painted horse. Every piece carries a memory, a story, a sense of place.

When Slow Sunday launched, I never imagined how quickly women would resonate with it. Each collection sells out faster than the last, and we’ve tripled order quantities just to keep up. But no matter how much demand grows, I’m committed to never compromising our values.

That means every garment is made from organic, natural fibers, through ethical partners who are regularly audited and held accountable. It means refusing the fast-fashion pace, because things made with care take time. And our customers understand that. They’ll wait for our nightie, for example, because they know it’s timeless, made with integrity, and worth it. That patience mirrors the very heart of slow living.

Of course, building Slow Sunday hasn’t been glamorous. Sometimes a sample arrives after months of waiting, and it’s still not right. Revisions drag on, and it’s discouraging. But I draw inspiration from the vintage garments I’ve collected—dresses made 80 years ago that are still just as beautiful today. That longevity keeps me going, reminding me that the extra effort matters.

Our collections are intentionally small, feminine, and timeless, with each piece designed to be worn for decades and, one day, handed down to our daughters.

During launch weeks, our family keeps steady by dividing roles. I focus on the creative, my husband handles the back end, and we keep meals simple: spaghetti, pancakes, tacos. Nothing fancy, but everything shared at the table. No matter how busy I get, family remains my anchor.

Sometimes younger women ask me for advice—city girls who crave a slower life but need steady paychecks. I get it. Before marriage at 22, I worked multiple jobs to stay afloat, and I know how easy it is to get swept into striving. The world tells us to be “boss babes,” but that path often leads to burnout and loneliness.

Even if you’re not in a season of marriage or motherhood, slowness is still possible. I think of You’ve Got Mail and Meg Ryan wandering flower markets, reading in quiet corners, walking without earbuds. That lifestyle is just as much “slow Sunday” as mine.

Above all, I believe true peace is found in God. That faith roots everything for me: my family, my work, my brand. Wherever you are in life, you can find your own version of a slow Sunday. Sometimes, it’s as simple as sitting on the porch with a cup of tea and watching the sun rise.

Follow along on Nicola's journey on Instagram and TikTok, and shop the newest Slow Sunday drop now!