The color red is sticking around as a key pop in fashion this spring and summer—and it’s not going anywhere. All shades are showing up, but for summer we’re seeing more of an orange-y red… the kind that looks like a perfectly ripe beefsteak tomato.
And that’s the magic word: tomato.
Now we’ve unlocked a memory—and you get to hear why tomatoes matter so much to me.
Growing up, my grandparents had farmland about 30 miles from our house, complete with an old farmhouse and a one-room schoolhouse. My family kept about an acre for ourselves to grow whatever we wanted.
Summer after summer, we planted around 200 tomato plants (plus a few other things). I think it was my dad’s idea that we’d sell them at a farmers market or a roadside stand. So weekend after weekend, we did it all: starting seeds in a makeshift basement greenhouse, planting at the farm (using old milk jugs to protect the baby plants), building cages, and harvesting in the heat of summer.
That first summer, we loaded up my mom’s hatchback Subaru and brought a car full of tomatoes to the farmers market.
Turns out, there was plenty of competition for great Kansas tomatoes—and not much business for us. So we changed course.
We set up a tomato stand in our driveway, painted a sign, and kept regular hours. We happened to be on a busy enough street—especially during shift changes at the nearby Hallmark factory—and it worked.
It was wildly successful… especially for four kids, all 10 and under. We even had regulars who came back year after year.
I’m pretty sure my parents used the first year’s profits to cover expenses (fair enough). But the second year, my three siblings and I split the earnings.
We each made $500. I was probably 7 or 8 years old—which meant I was really REALLY rich.
That same summer, my grandparents took me and my older brother Corey to France. And yes… I brought my tomato money with me. I went shopping in France with it.
Looking back, it’s not just about tomatoes. It’s probably where my love of building something—and yes, selling it—really started.
The big takeaway? Those summers are part of the foundation of how I think about work.
Hard work → results → the freedom to enjoy it. (And yes, sometimes that still means shopping.)
A few tomato observations:
- Tomatoes are technically a fruit—but constantly mistaken for a vegetable. I respect that.
- Under the right conditions, Jersey tomatoes are just as good as Kansas tomatoes. (Too much rain = mushy. Heat = magic.)
- Is this why red has always been my “kick-in-the-pants” color?
- We sold ours for $2/lb. What are tomatoes going for at farmers markets these days?
- We may or may not have created a tomato-inspired collection… and every piece reminds me of my driveway stand days.
If you’re feeling the tomato energy too, we put together a whole collection inspired by it. You can check it out here.
