Two Olives: Rooted in Gratitude
Two Olives is a passion project that rose from a moment of reflection. The kind that makes you stop, Reevaluate, and ask yourself: Is this really what I want my life to look like? The answer was no.
Through that journey of self-discovery, Two Olives was born.
Growing up in Vermont, nature has always been my grounding force. As a child, I spent afternoons on my grandparents’ farm, eating fruit straight from the fields, climbing apple trees and chasing fireflies. One of my earliest memories is helping my great-grandfather pick green beans.
Those experiences instilled in me a deep gratitude for nature and the connections it creates. They taught me to notice the small details, and find inspiration outdoors. I wanted to return to that — to create something that brings me joy and honors my values.
A simple mission: to put down roots, reconnect people with nature, and to grow something meaningful that gives back. Named after my true inspiration, my children, Olivia and Oliver (Liv & Oli). My ‘Two Olives’.
Two Olives is more than a brand — it’s a way of living with intention, carrying forward the legacies of those who inspire you, and sharing that story with the next generation. It’s both personal and purposeful and rooted in gratitude.
The Inspiration Behind Two Olives
“The Farm”
Every day after school I rode the bus to my grandparent’s farm in Westminster, VT. My cousin and I played outside until it was dark. If we were hungry, we would grab a couple strawberries from the field. We swam in the watering trough. Our afternoons consisted of playing house in the corn crib, exploring the old barn, fighting off geese as we collected eggs from the chicken coop, and making mazes through the corn field as we played tag. The farm had Apple and pear trees, a favorite of ours for snacks and climbing. And the best part of the day was hearing my grandmother call out that supper was ready — one of my favorite meals from my youth — my grandmother’s homemade pizza. The farm made for a magical childhood. These memories have impacted who I am today. I want my children to have access to the outdoors and free-range play the way I did growing up.
“Betty Boop”
I was the first born grandchild and I heard everyone calling my grandmother Betty, so I figured that’s what I should call her too. She never corrected me – she didn’t want to be called grandma. She said “grandma” was for old ladies. Betty boop (I eventually added the ‘boop"‘) was one-of-a-kind. She had a green thumb and grew beautiful gardens. She created stunning centerpieces for the holidays, and styled the most gorgeous Christmas tree I have ever seen. She made us pillows in the shape of bunny rabbits and raggety anne dolls embroidered with our names. She painted and wrote poetry. She loved finding the perfect gift for each of us, full of meaning and symbolism, and she had a talent for styling a beautiful bouquet or setting an impressive Thanksgiving table.
“Mamie-Jo”
Being the first born child to the first born daughter in a family of nine, I was very close in age to the younger siblings. The youngest were Amy (Amy-Jo), Sarah, and David. I looked up to all of them, but I always admired Amy’s style and grace. She was so cool. When we were younger we’d play at the farm across the street and mix up concoctions, one of which we coined “fransoi”. It was warm milk and cinnamon but it might as well have been a magical potion. I called her Mamie-Jo. She always had the best hair and most stylish outfits. She was alumni queen, beautiful, popular and kind. She introduced me to Paul Mitchell and let me help her make jewelry when she started her own business with her husband, called The Wicked Ear. She later gave me beads, tools, and findings for Christmas so I could create my own designs. She had a way with styling and design, much like “betty boop”, her mother. She reminded me of Joanna Gaines. If I bought new furniture or changed up the decor, she was always the first to notice. I wanted to be like her.
Grandpa Lockerby
When I was first born we lived at my great-grandparents house. My great-grandfather had a soft spot for me and always had a bouquet of flowers waiting for me that he’d picked from his garden. I remember playing on their property and pretending the next door neighbor was Christopher Robin. Sarah, David and I would scoop tadpoles out of the pond across the street and my grandfather let me pick green beans with him from the field — one of my earliest childhood memories. He always had a bag of potato chips waiting for a mid-day snack. In the fall we raked leaves into the shape of furniture and played house, jumping on our leaf couch and raking it back up, over and over.
