Meet Michelle Gruben | Owner/Founder, Grove and Grotto

We had the good fortune of connecting with Michelle Gruben and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Michelle, have you ever found yourself in a spot where you had to decide whether to give up or keep going? How did you make the choice?
Oooh, that’s a meaty question. It’s something every entrepreneur has to ask themselves when they’re first getting started—or if not at the beginning, then at some point of crisis down the road. I don’t have an easy answer to the question of when to give up. I’m tempted to say, of course, that it depends on the person and the circumstances—but that’s a cop-out, so I’ll try to go a little deeper.

Giving up is terrifying because of the possibility of regret. Regret is such a poisonous feeling. I think everyone who does abandon a dream asks themselves, what if I quit too soon? Would waiting one more year, going on one more audition, or taking out one more loan have been my big break? And you can never know, and the thought eats at you.

So giving up too early is tragic, and a recipe for regret. But plugging away forever at something when you’re not seeing progress isn’t admirable—it’s actually kind of dumb. Persistence is a virtue. Stubbornness is what gets you in trouble. I’m not a gambler, but the same advice could probably be applied to the gaming table and the startup phase: Play smartly but realize that luck also plays a role, and beware of the sunk cost fallacy. Decide early how long you’re going to stay in the game, how much you’re willing to lose, and try your best to stick to those numbers.

In my case, business success grew slowly. I’m rather proud and I like to do everything myself, so I didn’t ask for the help that could’ve accelerated our growth. I’m also risk-averse, so I was unwilling to take on debt or make any really aggressive moves in the startup phase. I earned less than minimum wage for the first couple of years, and only a modest salary after that. But I had prepared—I had planned for that possibility. I made myself a small loan from savings for my opening inventory. I left my job (as a chef at a private school) at the end of the school year, knowing I could go back in the fall if the first few months in business went very poorly. I was going to try as hard as a could for as long as I could afford to and fall back on my other job skills if things didn’t work out.

I remember fielding a difficult phone call from my grandfather. He had heard from family that I had quit my cooking job to start a metaphysical shop, and he called me to tell me, basically, that I was a bonehead. This was in 2014. I had gotten married and bought my first home a few years earlier, in 2009, and that was all he could talk about: “Don’t lose your house,” he kept saying. “Don’t lose your home.” And there were other people who expressed fear on my behalf, or let me know in subtle or direct ways that they did not think that betting on a new witchy store was very smart.

It was painful at the time. Like, how dare they just assume that I’m not going to succeed? But underneath the hurt, I found the nugget of wisdom that some risks are too great.

My grandfather remembered dealing with housing insecurity, job insecurity. The most important thing at that time was to find a living wage and cling to it so that his family could survive. My generation mostly rejects that—we want fun, creative, personally fulfilling work that doesn’t harm people or the planet. We see great danger in throwing away all your precious time for some crappy job. But just because something is fulfilling to you doesn’t mean there’s a sustainable demand for it. That’s why a lot of creative businesses fail. You gotta find that sweet spot, something you enjoy that also provides value to others.

So, that’s my concise answer to the question of when to give up: Never give up, BUT always be willing to adapt. Change your product, change your venue, change your expectations of what success means. And if your venture requires you to risk your health, home, or a loving relationship, don’t. Just don’t. Because those things are worth more than any professional goal.

Can you give our readers an introduction to your business? Maybe you can share a bit about what you do and what sets you apart from others?
I’m so glad you asked! The project that takes most of my time is Grove and Grotto. It’s an online shop for Witches, Pagans and other assorted spiritual seekers and weird folks. We sell altar supplies, candles, crystals, books, curios, scents and incense. We offer about 3000 different items from dozens of vendors around the world, along with our original content (photos and blog posts) —and, I hope, an alluring sense of wonder and fun.

As a young person I spent a lot of time in businesses that catered to alternative spiritualities. Crystal shops, independent bookstores, yoga studios—even the smoke shops, which were often the only places in town that sold things like incense and Goddess images. I admired the men and women who worked at those places. I thought they were so courageous and cool; I looked up to them. For myself and for lots of baby Witches of my generation, shops and studios functioned as makeshift community centers. They were sources of spiritual connection and community in the absence of an organized religion that spoke to us.

But most of the Pagan and Pagan-adjacent spaces I knew were hyper-local, and most seemed unaware of (or uninterested) in the digital revolution that was happening around us. Also, they always seemed to be in financial trouble. So I didn’t aspire to imitate that, exactly. I knew from the first days of Grove and Grotto that I wanted it to eventually be fully online. I’d worked at Wal-Mart, Target, etc., in my teens and early 20s in order to save for college and support myself. Starting a new retail business only to spend my time running a register or commuting to some depressing strip center…that thought held zero appeal.

So there I was in 2014. I was 27. I had an academic degree that I wasn’t using, I had spent two years writing and drawing a graphic novel that didn’t sell, my career as a chef had stalled, and I was not at all confident in my chances of success as an entrepreneur. But I had some web design skills and a hope that I could make Grove and Grotto stand out in the growing online marketplace for niche businesses. The eBay store—and then, within a year or two, the stand-alone website—had hand-selected merchandise and colorful, textural photos rather than stock imagery. Grove and Grotto reached for an aesthetic of timelessness and an ethic of trust. We eschewed extraordinary claims in favor of modest prices and straight talk on magic and mysticism.

There’s been ups and downs over the years, naturally. The biggest challenges have always come from myself: Overcoming shyness, overcoming a tendency toward perfectionism and a preference for doing things the slow and tedious way. The other challenges have largely come from things I can’t control—global events and economic macrotrends.

We weathered the disruption of Covid exceptionally well, in hindsight. That was largely because we had a lot of inventory stored in our warehouse and a pandemic-ready way to reach customers at home through our websites. In contrast, the rise of ultra-cheap shopping apps has not been great for us. People have limited spending money, I get it—but it’s terrible for American companies and creators. I’ll list a Tarot deck for $25, for example—a really gorgeous oversized deck that comes boxed with printed instructions and gilded edges and the artist actually gets paid for their work—and I’ve gotta try to convince a buyer that it’s a better choice than the shoddy $6 counterfeit version from Temu.

The recent mainstreaming of Pagan and Earth-based spirituality has been a mixed bag, honestly. On one hand, there’s greater familiarity and acceptance for some religious minorities. That feels nice, and it’s good for business. I’m not a purist or a snob. I’m happy that the pie has grown. But now there’s sage sticks and crystals for sale at the airport, Wiccan-inflected decor at Michaels and Party City. When your niche gets commercialized and mass-produced, you must work harder to cut through the noise and find your customers. You’re suddenly challenged with demonstrating that you’re not just following a current craze—or worse yet, grasping at the tail end of one. But you can’t stop history. You have to find a way to evolve or die out.

I’m proud of taking the plunge and changing careers—it took guts—but I’m most proud of everything I’ve learned over the last ten years. Owning a micro-business means being involved in every aspect, from the daily stuff to the big-picture stuff. Early on, I stumbled a lot. I was winging it. I can’t look at anything I produced for the Grove in the first five years—merchandise, text, marketing materials, financial records—without seriously cringing. It’s painful! It’s all so earnest and amateurish. Even looking through old folders to prepare for this interview was humiliating. But that’s normal when you have high standards and a willingness to learn. Those two things—high standards and a willingness to learn—are the greatest assets I have, and they’re what will allow Grove and Grotto to continue to succeed.

Every company is supposed to try and display their social consciousness these days. Are we socially conscious? I think so. Some days I feel that being a queer person (in every sense of the word) and following a dream is a radical act, and that it’s enough. Some days I don’t believe that at all. My job is finding cool items, fixing them up a bit, and selling them for more than I bought them for. I don’t want to be grandiose, you know? We’re not curing cancer here. And yet, I’m certain that Grove and Grotto has improved the lives of people in small ways. We are an old-fashioned, word-of-mouth business. I love our customers—I work for them. We have a very high repeat shopper rate and referral rate, which is one of the best compliments a store can receive. People tell us that we stock items that they can’t obtain locally, whether in tiny towns or giant metropolises full of chain stores. They tell us that their purchases help them connect to family, friends, nature, and their spiritual paths. We have customers in all 50 states and US territories, Canada, and among military personnel stationed overseas.

Despite the geographic reach, I do very much consider Grove and Grotto to be a Dallas company. We just surpassed 10 years in business, and one of the things I did to celebrate was add “2014” and “Dallas, TX” to our official logo. I did it deliberately—you might say defiantly—since we’re quote-unquote “only” an online store. I was born and educated here, founded the company here, and our office and warehouse are located here. It’s my way of saying, we are a proud little part of this Dallas community, and we’re here to stay.

If you had a friend visiting you, what are some of the local spots you’d want to take them around to?
Wow, a whole week? Buckle up—this Dallas girl has a whirlwind itinerary for you! If you’re cheap like me, you’re on the earliest Southwest Airlines flight on a weekday morning. So let’s imagine that this vacation starts at midmorning on a Tuesday at Love Field.

In summer, indoor activities are a must. Fortunately, the museum district is just a short drive from the airport. There’s so many to choose from, depending on your interests. I love science and history, so the Perot Museum or the Dallas Museum of Art would be my top picks (don’t try to do them both in one day). There are great historic bars and cool galleries in Deep Ellum, which can be explored on foot. Close out the day with a Mavs game or a concert at House of Blues. It’s customary to stop at a 24-hour Whataburger (classic late-night meal) or Velvet Taco (hipster late-night meal) before turning in for the night.

Wednesday let’s wake up early and get outdoors. The old-school guidebook recommendation is Dallas Arboretum. I regret to report that it’s gotten rather snooty and expensive…but it’s absolutely still worth a trip if you’ve never been. It’s best to go on a weekday, and early.

People who say that Dallas is all ugly concrete are forgetting about the lakes. Sorry, “reservoirs.” One of my favorite things to do with visitors is a daytime cruise on the “Redneck Riviera,” aka Lake Ray Hubbard. You can BYOB and gawk at all the mansions on the shoreline while someone else drives the boat. There are a few different companies who offer tours in the afternoon and evening. I’ve always had a good time with DFW Boat Ride and Cruisin’ Tikis.

While we’re out at Ray Hubbard…the best waterfront bar in town is Flying Saucer “The Lake” (they’re technically in Garland but don’t want to own up to it…that’s fair). Sneaky Pete’s on Lewisville Lake is another fine choice for brews and views (eat before you go).

Wednesday evening, we will find a happy hour (or a Wine Wednesday!) followed by a leisurely dinner. For foodies, Tuesday and Wednesday are the best nights to eat out in Dallas. Ask anyone in the service industry. Friday and Saturday—with their long waits, drunk patrons, and stressed-out servers—are for amateurs.

DFW has a burgeoning world-class food scene, including in the suburbs. Korean, Indian, Greek, French, Italian, and Thai cuisines are all well-represented in Dallas…and of course there’s amazing steakhouses and sushi for big spenders.
There are enough restaurants to choose from that even buzzy places can usually accommodate a last-minute weeknight reservation. Best tip: The affluent north suburbs of Plano/Frisco are luring a lot of the best new restaurants—but if you don’t want to be surrounded by kids, ask to sit at the bar.

Thursday is all about checking off the Texas bucket list: Bluebonnets, tacos, cowboy boots. If it’s wildflower season, we start the morning with a quick peak at Arbor Hills Nature Preserve (Plano). If the wildflowers have already come and gone, the next best thing is a walk around Rubails Rosemeade Market (Carrollton), which supplies local gardeners and landscapers with all the best local plants.

After coffee, it’s time for a day trip to one of the charming small towns just west of Dallas. Choose either Fort Worth (cows and trains) or Grapevine (wine and trains). Whether you’re strolling through Sundance Square or Old Downtown Grapevine, this is your chance to wear a cowboy hat and buy loads of stuff with “Y’all” printed on it.

Next, you gotta have barbecue. It’s all right to wait until 1 or 2 in the afternoon so there’s room in your belly—and so the post-barbecue food coma doesn’t disrupt your morning. (But not later than that, because the good places do run out of meat and close up shop.) I’m not about to start any wars by naming my favorites, so I’ll just drop these tidbits: Hard Eight (various locations) has pitmasters carving up barbecue right out of the smoker, which makes a sweet photo op for tourists (and there’s free beans!). Austin’s (Addison) has more-than-decent plate lunches and a friendly bar. Intrinsic Smokehouse (Garland) does it all up proper, with Frito pies and pickle buckets. And if Ten50 (Richardson) has the hickory-smoked single beef rib on the menu, you must forget whatever you were thinking of ordering and just get that. (I don’t think that Fort Worth has that much really good barbecue…okay, fight me.)

Thursday night, we’re going to catch a comedy act or local play at Pocket Sandwich Theatre. This Dallas institution was recently transplanted to Carrollton from Mockingbird Lane, and it’s like exactly nothing has changed but the location. We’ll walk over for pre-show pint at 3 Nations Brewing, whose large, inviting beer garden hosts local bands and trivia nights.

Hooray, it’s Friday morning, and the weekend’s just getting started! If you have shopping on your Dallas wishlist—do it now, right after breakfast. The Galleria and NorthPark will be stocked and staffed in anticipation of the weekend craziness. (Most of the other area malls are in some stage of “redevelopment”…don’t say I didn’t warn you.)

Every DFW local knows not to try and drive anywhere on Friday, because rush hour starts at approximately 1 PM. Therefore, Friday afternoon is a great time to park yourself on a patio with slushy drinks and shareable nachos. Tex-Mex is to Dallas as pizza is to NYC—there’s good, better, and best—but really no bad. There’s an excellent family-run place in almost every neighborhood, and most of the Tex-Mex chains are passable, too. Seriously, as long as they don’t charge for chips and salsa, you’re golden. If you want to make a pilgrimage to the birthplace of the frozen margarita machine, that would be Mariano’s in Lake Highlands.

Saturday let’s find a brunch. Addison is my brunch central, plentiful in its options and not overly scene-y. Gloria’s, Pie Tap, and Vidorra are all tasty picks. If all else fails, you can get a fresh pastry and a coffee at Whole Foods, at the massive Belt Line location that once housed a three-story Bed Bath & Beyond. Weekends are great for people-watching, too. I like to go to Grrrowlers (The Colony) to sip craft brew and pet other people’s dogs. For car enthusiasts, the best vantage point is a street-side table in Legacy West, where you can watch the sweetest rides in the Metroplex queuing for the valet while the rich and fancy strut their stuff. Chiller vibes await across the Tollway at Legacy East, which has an assortment of walkable eateries and a turtle pond.

Sunday morning, before your return flight, head over to the Half Price Books flagship store on Northwest Highway. It’s one of the best places to kill a couple of hours and to grab something to read on the plane.

That’s my five-day itinerary—if you have more time here, you can do and see even more. It’s true what they say about Dallas…you need a car to get almost anywhere (bummer), and the city goes to bed early (boo). Night owls might want to add an overnight stay downtown or in Oak Lawn to be closer to the clubs. Denton (college town north of DFW) is also a fun spot for a 1- or 2-day staycation or weekend pub crawl on foot.

Shoutout is all about shouting out others who you feel deserve additional recognition and exposure. Who would you like to shoutout?
My mom! I was a strong-willed and capricious kid. It can’t have been easy putting up with me, but my parents always supported my education and my creative pursuits. And I have a great life because of that, in no small part. (My mother isn’t online very much, so I don’t know if she will read this…if she does, hi Mom!)

I don’t have kids, and I can’t even imagine raising a child—especially in my 20s, like my parents did. To me, the difficulty of being responsible for a small human surpasses the difficulty of anything I’ve ever done in my life.

I’m going to be 40 real soon…and while I know that’s not terribly old, confronting aging is not easy. It’s not just the body changing, although that’s certainly part of it. This world does not often celebrate middle-aged women, and technology and culture are changing in ways that I find scary and alienating. So having a person in my life who is over 65 and has seen a lot of history unfold—and who is beautiful and strong and wise—is a tremendous gift.

Website: http://www.groveandgrotto.com

Instagram: https://instagram.com/groveandgrotto

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groveandgrotto