The Magnolia Story (with Bonus Content)

by Chip Gaines

  It was a beautiful sunny day when Chip dropped me at a park near our hotel. I’d asked him to give me an hour or so to journal and gather my thoughts for the New Year. I found a tree to hide under and I sat there to reflect on the past year. And within moments of sitting down, I heard that voice again. You know the one. That voice said, It’s time to reopen your shop.

  By now you know I like to argue first and then reason later. “Are you serious?” I said out loud. “I have four kids now, a business to run, and a television show. How on earth could I do that?”

  But the still, small, oh-so-familiar voice whispered again: It’s time.

  There is always peace when I finally decide to obey that voice. Although I may wrestle with him at first like a little kid, in the end I always know that he knows best.

  I began to get giddy, and I immediately started drawing up a business plan and ideas for my shop’s reopening. When Chip arrived to pick me up I walked toward the car, beaming. I opened the door and said, “Chip, it’s time to reopen Magnolia.”

  Of course, in vintage Chip fashion, he responded, “Let’s do it!”

  Magnolia had outgrown its offices in that space anyway, and had already partially relocated to a larger location. I had a bunch of inventory sitting around that I had planned to use for remodeling projects and staging homes, so it was easy to set it all back up—basically overnight. I had kept in contact with all of my suppliers as well, since I’d continued to do the Magnolia Home shows through the years. It all happened really, really quickly. My regular clientele flocked in as soon as we opened the doors. And because of Fixer Upper, new customers started coming in too.

  By the middle of 2015, it wasn’t unusual for us to see more than a thousand customers a day in that little shop. We had to hire extra help just to stand at the door and control the flow of people in and out so it wouldn’t get too crowded for anyone to move in that tiny space. My close friend Jessica (the one from my early shop days) worked at the shop and made it her job to greet every single person who walked in. Her short, pixie-cut hair, bright blue eyes, and glowing smile made every person feel welcome. She was the only employee I had who remembered back when a busy day consisted of fifteen customers.

  As we continued to grow, we put up a large temporary tent in the parking lot and put inventory and another cash register in there to try to alleviate the crowding. We even opened an online version of Magnolia Market so that our out-of-town friends could find the things we were selling without having to come to the shop on Bosque. Overnight, it seemed, we had to figure out how to become a shipping company and a business that could cater to thousands of people on a national level.

  We rented a mobile container in an attempt to manage all the products people wanted—pillows, signs, those old rusty-looking letters to hang on their walls, candles, you name it—and we ran out of space in a matter of weeks. Then we went looking around for more warehouse space and wound up purchasing an old warehouse that my father used to purchase tires from.

  When I walked into the warehouse for the first time, it all came back to me. The smell of tires reminded me of all those years I had sat in my father’s tire shop and dreamed about businesses and ideas. God heard my dreams way back then, and this old tire warehouse was confirmation for me that he’d had a plan all along.

  In 2015, just to put all of the puzzle pieces in place, we brought my father on to help with operations. Dad had always hoped I would take over his Firestone store. My decision to open Magnolia in 2003 had been hard for him, in fact, because it put an end to his dream of passing his business down to his daughter. But God has a funny way of bringing things back the way only he can do. My dad went from the backbreaking rubber-tire industry to florals and delicate home décor and never skipped a beat.

  Chip and I stood back amazed at the number of people who were coming to Waco to visit our little shop. It soon became obvious that we’d need to move the brick-and-mortar Magnolia Market to a bigger location to accommodate the crowds.

  Anyone driving in or around Waco had probably noticed the pair of big white rusty silos just to the west of Interstate 35. They towered over just about every other structure in town. Located down by the railroad tracks, they were once part of a booming agricultural business. But as long as I’d been aware of them, they had been empty and abandoned.

  I had often wondered why that property had stood vacant for so long. Surely some big hotel or convention center or something would have loved that location—right in the center of everything, close to Baylor, visible from the highway.

  My children actually went to school right across the street from those giant old silos. The small building in front, the former office for the operation, had once been a floral shop where Chip would buy me flowers. I loved this building and had taken note years earlier that it had amazing potential. And now that I saw it nearly every day, walking my kids up to the school with those silos towering over us—I found myself even more interested.

  One day I dropped the kids off, and as I drove past the silos, I felt like I should turn around and look at the property. My heart was drawn to them the same way it had been stirred when Chip and I drove through the New England coastline on our honeymoon and admired similar old structures.

  My first thought that day was, How convenient to be right next to the kids’ school. I was craving more time with my kids now that they were all in school, and anything to make the commute quicker would ensure more time with my children. I even daydreamed about watching them on the playground from my office.

  All of a sudden a business plan came together in my mind as I sat in my car, staring at the property. I envisioned retail space in the grain barn, movie night in the adjacent field, food trucks parked nearby, and maybe a bakery. My mind just flooded with a vision of turning that abandoned cotton-oil mill into Magnolia’s new headquarters and retail space—and creating an attraction that could become a whole new center of activity for Waco itself.

  The history of this property is what inspired me. I saw this vision of life returning to this once-thriving but now abandoned space. I imagined families and friends coming here and taking a step back in time, putting away their phones, and enjoying the site.

  Then I called Chip and told him I wanted to buy it.

  “Babe, are you serious? What in the world are we going to do with all that?” he said.

  I think after all of the problems we’d endured because of the downturn in the economy and the season of turmoil we had been through, Chip had grown a little more risk averse, a little more cautious. Once again it almost felt like we were switching roles a bit, because I was all-in. I just felt that this was meant to be.

  Of course, the property wasn’t even for sale, as far as we knew. We didn’t know who the owners were at that point or why the property had remained vacant for all those years. But somehow, I just knew it would happen.

  It didn’t take long for Chip to catch the vision. He tracked down the owner of the property and gave him a call. The owner explained he wasn’t interested in selling and that the mill had been his father’s business until he passed away in the nineties. He said everyone interested in purchasing the property wanted to tear down the silos, and he did not want that to happen.

  Chip assured him the silos were the very things that had drawn us to the property—that instead of removing them, we wanted to highlight them in the downtown area.

  I think a lot of people liked seeing them there, whether they thought about it consciously or not. So when we came along and said we wanted to preserve the silos as the landmark they are and to turn this property into something that could serve as a vibrant centerpiece for the whole community, he was interested.

  Chip was still skeptical, though. He said, “Jo, this is a big project, and I don’t want to get in the same place we were in with the Villas.”

  “Chip, I just feel like this is right. This is our next step.”

  Part of me wondered if maybe we could make some money by tearing the g
iant silos down and selling them for scrap metal. I kept joking with Jo and teasing her about it. But she put together a drawing of the whole space and how she envisioned it coming together. And once I took one look at that, once I truly saw her vision for this retail center and new headquarters for our company, I was 100 percent on board. This place was Jo, no doubt about it.

  I just kept thinking back to all those years ago to our honeymoon, how she would have me pull over anytime we’d see silos or an abandoned grain barn. It just made sense, like it was all part of the plan.

  I let Chip handle all the negotiations because that’s always been his thing. And we were able to make a deal. Once again, just as with the shop on Bosque, just as with the farm we now call home, the seemingly impossible and out of reach became real. In fact, it seemed very meant to be.

  Thousands of people showed up when we opened Magnolia Market at the Silos in October of 2015, and they haven’t stopped coming ever since. The store has sixteen thousand square feet of floor space, and it’s constantly filled with people, inside and out. This rusty old place that some people considered an eyesore is now a viable part of our downtown district. It’s also providing jobs to dozens upon dozens of new and longtime Magnolia employees.

  Talk about coming full circle. If I ever needed proof that I should trust God with my dreams, this was certainly it. He turned my little dream, my mustard seed of faith, into all this. Not even a decade after I made that difficult decision to close my shop to stay home with my babies, God delivered on the promise of making my dreams come true in ways that were bigger than I ever imagined.

  The best part of all of this growth is that we’ve been able to channel it right back into the town we love. We’re both proud of the work our friends and fellow business owners do—the local craftsmen and craftswomen who’ve dedicated their time and energy to making the beautiful items we showcase, from jewelry to furniture to handmade signs and pottery.

  Who knows? Maybe someday soon we’ll find a way to bring Magnolia Market to other cities. How cool would it be to feature local artists and craftsmen and to bring this wonderful thing that’s happened in our hometown to hometowns all over America?

  Look at what Chip unleashed by encouraging me to go open my little shop way back in 2003. Look at what that turned into. I am so grateful for that. I’m not sure if any of these big plans will ever happen, but I sure like to dream about them. And as I’ve learned, when I speak my dreams out loud to Chip—and to God—those dreams have a way of becoming attainable.

  Life changes quickly. Overnight, your whole world can change. Chip and I have already experienced that time and time again. And in this season we’re in now, which is by far the busiest season of our lives, the changes that have happened are things no one can prepare for.

  I’m an introvert by nature. Yet now, everywhere I go, people seem to know me and come up to me and want to talk to me—and it’s beautiful. I’m so grateful. And Chip—Chip just loves it. I think he’d like to be president of the United States someday, so he’s out there shaking everybody’s hand and kissing babies and waving to everybody.

  We’ve simply had to adjust to a new way of living, that’s all.

  Chip and I both work hard. We continue to make mistakes, and these days we work even harder to learn from them and get better. If I had planned my life, it never would have ended up like this. So maybe it’s kind of fun not to plan. Maybe it’s more fun just to see where life takes you. After all, we’re living proof that sometimes even the messiest stuff and the biggest mistakes can take you someplace wonderful.

  Speaking of which, we finally sold that old houseboat. We never did get it in the water. That thing just sat there until the summer of 2015, when we finally found a buyer who was willing to devote the time and energy that boat needed to come back to life.

  I was mad at Chip when he bought that houseboat. I think I had every right to be mad. But the point is that it turned out okay. It turned out better than okay. That stupid houseboat was the catalyst that got us to where we are now.

  And no, the dream isn’t about fame and fortune. For me, the dream is that I get to wake up every morning and do what I love with the ones I love.

  When Chip is out in the field herding the goats or working the cows, he gets that same feeling—because back when he was little he said to himself, “One day I want to do what my granddad does.”

  Being on a farm is something we both dreamed about, and in the hustle and bustle of our busy life, when I come back here to this place I love, it always takes me back to the basics. That’s why I go into that garden and I work with my hands. That’s why I think it’s important that Chip works with those animals. There’s something about doing things the way our ancestors used to do them that kind of puts your heart back into the rhythm of this thing called life. It’s why I think cooking for my family is important. It’s why I love making things with my hands, designing with my hands, and gardening with my hands.

  I think it’s important to reiterate here that I didn’t start out wanting to be a gardener, or a designer for that matter. It was all trial and error and figuring things out. And sometimes you’ve got to try something outside of your comfort zone to figure out what it is that you truly love.

  Well, you could say that about you and me right from the start. You were never looking for the loud guy, and I certainly wasn’t looking for the quiet girl.

  Now I look back and go, “If I would’ve ended up with that quiet guy or that stable guy or that safe guy, I would never have been able to pursue any of these dreams, because no one would have pushed me to these new places I discovered in myself.” Those other types of guys might have allowed me to stay in that safe place.

  They wouldn’t have drawn you out. That’s interesting. And if I had wound up with some cheerleader who was always the life of the party, I don’t think I would have found my way, either. I needed you for that.

  Nowadays when I think about the name Magnolia, I think about it in terms that refer to much more than the blossoming of our business. I think about the buds on the tree, and how they really are just the tightest buds—they look like rocks, almost. And I feel like when Chip and I met, that tight little bud was me. I was risk averse, and in some ways, I don’t think I saw the beauty or the potential in myself. Then I wound up with Chip Gaines and—

  You bloomed?

  I did. If I hadn’t married Chip, I might not have ever bloomed.

  I can’t imagine what my life would be if we hadn’t traveled this road. We celebrated our twelfth anniversary recently, and my dad said something that I thought was really beautiful. He said, “Chip, I always thought, when I was out on the baseball field hitting you those grounders, that I was training you to be the next greatest baseball player. But now, looking back and seeing the person you’ve become, I was really training you to be the next greatest dad.”

  We’ve both spent a lot of time attempting to figure out what it is we love so much about life on the farm and also why so many other people who watch our show seem drawn to it too. And what it comes down to is this: A farm is what inspired the both of us from the very beginning. It’s what inspired Chip as a young kid. It’s what inspired me as a young girl, in my daydreaming. And now we’re living our dream. We found our way to this place we love through all sorts of twists and turns and bumps and forks in the road. But we’re here.

  It isn’t as if we’re trying to push our lifestyle on anyone. If we’re trying to push anything, it’s the hope that there’s contentment in the journey. Whether you are in an eight-hundred-square-foot home or living in a dream house on a lake, contentment is found on the way to the “farm,” not on the “farm” itself.

  We both hope, with all of our hearts, that the people who read this book and watch our show and come to see what we’re working on in Waco will take a chance to go after their dreams too. Because the key to everything Chip and I have learned in our life together so far seems to be pretty simple: Go and find what it is that inspi
res you, go and find what it is that you love, and go do that until it hurts.

  Don’t quit, and don’t give up. The reward is just around the corner. And in times of doubt or times of joy, listen for that still, small voice. Know that God has been there from the beginning—and he will be there until . . .

  The End.

  Q & A with Chip and Joanna

  ON THE AUTHENTICITY OF THE SHOW>>>

  Mark: Was there any push from the network or the producers to do something less authentic?

  Joanna: Nothing. From the beginning they left it very unscripted. They don’t know this, but they would have found out if they tried—you cannot script Chip Gaines. He wouldn’t have lasted. I think that’s why we like going to work everyday, because there’s no script. We really enjoy it, it’s authentic, and I think that’s our end goal in all this, that people really feel the authenticity. Whether it’s a blog post that I write or a picture on Instagram, I hope that people really feel, “This is authentic. They’re not acting. This is real.”

  Mark: It’s just so rare in the reality TV world! It really is.

  Joanna: From a time and production standpoint, it’s probably smarter to have scripts on a lot of shows, and instruct the “hosts” as to what they should say and do, because—to be frank—we’re always running behind schedule on our show because of Chip doing his antics. He does some of it just to warm the clients up, since none of them have ever been on TV before. He’s always making bad jokes and things just to make them laugh so they feel more comfortable. He jokes around with the crew, too, to the point where I get upset. Sometimes I’m like, “Chip! I just want to be done with the scene!“ But he is really using his gift of entertainment and humor to try to make everybody have fun with this. I think that’s why we work so well together, because I’m so serious and goal oriented. I see the goal, I just want to get there. Chip is like, “Let’s enjoy it. It’s going to take a little longer, but let’s just have fun getting there.” I think that’s what makes it more fun for me, otherwise I’d just work myself to death.