Royals vs. Roses: A Lesson In Know Thyself

For as long as I can remember, I have loved my mother’s fine china, the Sarabande pattern by Royal Doulton. As a child, I would eagerly and proudly help my mom set the table for her elaborate dinner parties, Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, admiring the simplicity to its pure white design accented by the subtle black pattern around the edge. Then, when I was a teenager, my grandmother passed away. I helped my mom pack up her things, which included carefully wrapping my grandmother's extensive china collection, a 24-person place setting by Spode, with the delicate, intricate and beautiful Chinese Rose pattern to be shipped back to our home. My mom faithfully alternated the patterns and used both often.

Fast forward: I got engaged and was going through the overwhelming task of registering for gifts. My mom suggested we not bother with fine china, for a variety of practical reasons, including the fact that I would one day inherit one of her patterns. It went without saying for both of us that this meant the Royal Doulton pattern. After all, it was the more modern pattern, which matched me - a modern "city mouse".  Despite seeing the delicate beauty to the Chinese Rose pattern, I couldn’t envision such a traditional pattern gracing the top of the sleek, minimalist dining room table I would surely one day own.

Fast forward again: I married my husband and we moved up north, to a scenic, idyllic little speck on the US map known as the Berkshires. I was going to become a "country mouse" - voluntarily. By a beautiful stroke of serendipity, I found myself falling in love with a perfectly imperfect 1852 farmhouse. We stepped into the house and something clicked. I felt...authentic. Turns out, this was me, mismatched trim, uneven wood floors, and all. I was surprised by it.  

As luck would have it, just as my husband and I were upsizing, my parents were downsizing, and it became the perfect time for me to take one of my mom’s china patterns off her hands.  When she asked which one I wanted, I answered quickly – Royal Doulton of course. It’s more “me” after all. It always has been. No brainer. 

Only, it turns out, it wasn’t. 

When I told my mom I’d take the Doulton pattern, she paused and simply said, “Are you sure?  Just think about it. Whichever one you want is fine, but just think about it.” 

I decided to humor her. I’d let her think I thought about it for a few days and then tell her I wanted the Doulton. But instead, for whatever reason, I actually did think about it. And suddenly I realized there was only one answer, and it was clear as day.

Again, I found myself surprised.

It was Chinese Rose that belonged in my character-filled, old New England farmhouse and was meant to grace the reclaimed, rustic wood of our old dining room table – a far cry from that slick, modern one I had always envisioned. It was Chinese Rose that had 24 place settings, which I would easily need for holiday gatherings now that our large family was within a 50 mile radius.

It only hit me a few days ago, as I was taking out one of those serving platters, that I had gone through a sort of “rebrand”, not unlike the kind many companies go through. I had found myself struggling to find the brand (in this case the china pattern) that aligned with my culture (in this case my own self) and I was clinging to the brand I had grown up with, the brand I had associated myself to, not recognizing that somewhere in those 20 years, I had developed my own, different culture - my own, different self. And it simply wasn't reflected by the Doulton pattern. Such a realization can be surprising - jarring, even. It can be uncomfortable. Also, refreshing and liberating. 

Best of all, empowering.  

Royal Doulton is indeed a beautiful pattern, and I do still like, admire, and appreciate minimalist, modern design. But I've learned that there is a difference between admiring and appreciating something for what it is, and adopting it as your own.  

I encourage you to take a step back and reflect on the aspects of your brand or culture that are authentic and genuine, and which are assumed or adopted. Accept your authentic self and make that your own, because after all, it already is.