The Measure of Support

Few phrases circulate through the outdoor industry as freely as “women supporting women.” It appears in captions, on event posters and sponsorship pitches, and it is almost always offered in good faith. Yet a phrase repeated often enough can drift from its meaning. Over the past several years I have seen what support looks like when it is real, and what it looks like when it is borrowed for convenience. The difference has taught me more than any slogan could.

My own commitment has never been abstract. Through Canadian Huntress I have spent years organizing events, building collaborations, contributing to causes and opening doors for women who might never otherwise have found their way into the field. Much of that work is documented openly. I gave time, resources and connections because I believed in the people receiving them, and I seldom expected anything in return. Watching a woman discover a new skill, or a new confidence, was reward enough.

Part of that, I suspect, is temperament. I have never been at ease on the receiving end of attention. Hand me an award and I will offer a hurried thank-you before steering the conversation elsewhere. I once answered a birthday greeting by warmly wishing the other person a happy birthday in return. It was not their birthday. Celebrating someone else has always come more naturally to me than knowing what to do when the spotlight turns my way.

That same instinct may explain why Mandy Smith made such an impression on me. She had been part of our pro staff for some time when Canadian Huntress took a booth at the Toronto Sportsman Show, and she worked it from opening morning to final close. Every day of the show she was on her feet, welcoming visitors, answering questions and representing the brand as though it were her own. It was plain to anyone watching that she was there out of a sincere love for the outdoors and a desire to share it with other women.

That week told me what I needed to know. When it came time last fall to find someone to run CH Outdoor, the home of our women’s and co-ed events and the CH Outdoor unisex clothing line, Mandy was the natural choice. She now oversees its social media, leads its events and manages the sponsor relationships that make them possible. She steered our inaugural ladies’ pheasant hunt to a success that exceeded my expectations, and she has been at my side as we prepare for the second.

Her arrival also coincided with a change many of our longtime followers may have noticed. For years, Rose Vanrooy was the hand behind Canadian Huntress on social media. She shaped its voice, championed its community and gave countless hours to a brand that was never hers to carry, yet she carried it with me anyway. When I closed for the summer to rest, Rose stepped back as well. Rose is one of my best friends, and that has never depended on who is posting what. Much of what this brand became, it became with her beside me, and I will always be grateful for that.

Working with Mandy has restored something I had begun to lose: the conviction that collaboration need not come with complications, and that inviting someone else to contribute is not the same as surrendering what you have built. Sometimes it is how a thing is given room to grow. If I were asked to define women supporting women, I would point to her. It is showing up, keeping your word, respecting the contributions of others and wanting a shared effort to succeed because you believe in it.

The harder lesson concerns what happens when that understanding breaks down, most often where business and friendship blur. Through the years I have welcomed many women into our pro staff and ambassador programs, and the terms are neither mysterious nor punishing. A member agrees to represent the brand with integrity: to share content on an agreed schedule, to appear at the events she has committed to, to wear the product with pride and to conduct herself, online and off, in a manner that reflects well on the name she carries. In return she receives product, discounted access to events, exposure to a growing audience and a voice in where the brand goes next. Both parties sign the agreement, and both have a part to play.

Trouble begins when that arrangement is mistaken for a personal one, or when its benefits come to be seen as gifts. Product and discounted event access are not tokens of friendship; they are one half of an exchange, extended because the other half was promised. When that promise goes unkept, the arrangement ends. The merchandise stops, the discounts stop, the access stops. There is nothing personal in it. It is how every business operates.

I want to be clear that most of the women who have worn our name have honoured those terms without a second thought, not out of obligation but because they cared about the brand and wanted to be part of something they were passionate about, alongside other women who felt the same. Many remain with us today, and our arrangements are far from rigid. Some post when time allows, because work, family and the rest of life have a way of rearranging the best intentions. What makes those partnerships succeed is communication. An agreement is a starting point, not a sentence; when circumstances change, its terms can be discussed and amended. The women who reach out when life gets in the way have never once lost my support. Good partners pick up the phone.

Not every partnership lasts, and I have never expected it to. Interests shift, and a better fit sometimes appears elsewhere. What I find harder to understand is a pattern that has grown all too familiar across the industry: departures that arrive without a word, agreements abandoned mid-term, obligations left unmet, and new logos appearing on profiles before the old ones have been set aside, as the next offer of free gear draws people from one brand to another. Harder still is what too often follows, when the account that circulates afterward casts the brand owner as the one who failed. No one can abandon the terms of an agreement and also claim authorship of the story about it.

To those who have since found it worthwhile to share their opinions of my character, I would offer one observation. Integrity is not measured by what a person says about others once she has left the room, but by how she conducted herself while she was in it. Before passing judgment on how someone runs her business, it is worth being certain your own conduct could withstand the same scrutiny. Those who live in glass houses, as the saying goes, would do well to put down the stones.

Enforcing an agreement does not make me unkind, cold or difficult. It makes me responsible. I have built Canadian Huntress on my own, and without debt, for nearly eight years, and protecting it is my obligation, not a flaw in my character. The woman you meet across a business table will not always resemble the one you know over coffee, nor should she. My values remain constant between the two; my responsibilities do not. Mandy understands that distinction better than anyone, which is a large part of why our partnership works.

I have been blocked, unfollowed and cut from circles by women with whom I never shared a cross word, apparently because a distorted version of events reached them before I ever could. It is a disorienting thing to learn that someone’s opinion of you was settled in a conversation you were never invited to join, with no one pausing to ask whether there might be another side. So if you have a concern, bring it to me directly. If you have heard something, ask whether it is true. I welcome those conversations, however uncomfortable, because I know what I have said, what I have done and what I stand for. I am told I can seem intimidating from a distance, but anyone who has spent an afternoon with me will tell you that impression rarely outlasts a handshake. Mine is always on offer, so keep that in mind the next time you hear a story about me.

It may also help to know that I am, by nature, a private person. Over the past while I have chosen to share less of my life online, a decision I will explore more fully in next week’s piece, The Slow Lane. For now, it is enough to say that the choice has at times been read as something it is not. A relationship I no longer post about has not necessarily ended. Many of my closest alliances, personal and professional, have never appeared on a feed at all, and they are no less real for it. Not everything that matters is meant to be posted.

There is a difference between supporting someone and wanting to be seen supporting them. Genuine support requires no audience, no reminder and no opportunity for public recognition. It exists in the actions people take when there is nothing to gain from being noticed.

Nor will I ask anyone to choose sides. I will never tell another woman whom to follow, work with or champion on the strength of my own experiences. Her relationships are hers to navigate, and real support leaves no room for policing friendships or testing loyalty. I also refuse to let a handful of disappointments colour my view of an entire community. Too many women are doing worthwhile work to be denied encouragement because of circumstances they had no part in.

As we approach our second annual ladies’ pheasant hunt, I do so with firmer boundaries and a clearer sense of whom I want associated with Canadian Huntress and CH Outdoor. The women who join us deserve to be welcomed as themselves, unburdened by anything that came before. Canadian Huntress has always been about more than clothing; it is the community, the experiences and the opportunities we create together. That has not changed. What has changed is my understanding of where support ends and self-respect begins.

Supporting women should never require a woman to stop supporting herself. If anything heartening has come from all of this, it is the reminder that there are still women who want, without reservation, to see one another succeed. That alone is enough to make me smile.

Outside Looks Good on You™

Dana