The Journal – Entry One

I Was Here

There are songs that don’t just play — they land.
“I was here, I lived, I loved.”
Those words etched themselves into my spirit years ago, and now they form the quiet heartbeat behind everything I create.

This isn’t just a business.
It’s a reclamation.
Of heritage.
Of sacred craft.
Of presence.

Bailao & Co. was born not from a strategy deck, but from memory — from ancestral warmth, the scent of tradition, the rituals whispered between generations.
I remember women who carried wisdom in their walk and men who moved through life with silence and strength.
I remember softness, joy, rhythm, power.
And above all — intention.

Yesterday, I found myself returning to that song again.
I listened to it on repeat, letting the words fall deeper this time.
I shared it with a friend — someone newly arrived in my life, but already carrying such a powerful gift.
I wanted her to know: she is already making an impact.
She told me she loved the song too.

Then, later, I stood in front of the mirror — fresh from the shower, ready to speak my affirmations.
And something shifted.

Suddenly, my eyes didn’t feel like my own.
It felt as though generations were looking through me.
Watching. Witnessing.
And then, I heard it — not with my ears, but inside my bones:

"Thank you.
Thank you for remembering us.
Keep going.
You will make an impact."

A rush of love filled the room and within.
My heart softened.
My tears came.
And I stood still, surrounded by something I couldn’t name, but have always known.

That’s when I knew again — why I do this.

Through The Journal, I want to share not only what we make, but why.
Because this journey is personal.
Because luxury can be conscious.
Because scent holds memory.
Because a candle can be an altar.
Because I want my daughters — all our children — to know where they come from.
Not just through stories, but through actions.
Through flame and fragrance and faith.

We’re not here to chase trends.
We’re here to make marks.
Quiet ones. Sacred ones. Ones that linger.

And if one day all of this turns to ash,
let the embers still speak my name.
Let the earth remember:

She walked with purpose.
She lit the path.
She was here.

Welcome to The Journal.
This is where our stories begin.

With love and presence,
Mouna
Bailao & Co.