Glittered Cups & Zero Fucks-

Rocktober Fest has officially wrapped — and while everyone saw the glow tent, the merch, the madness… they didn’t see the behind-the-scenes circus it took to get there. Let me paint it for you clearly: yes, I was prepping hoodies and tumblers like a one-woman factory, but I was also freezing in my own living room at 6AM, rearranging furniture just to get the pellet stove going before my fingers turned to icicles.

Because fall in Maine doesn’t gently arrive. It kicks the door in wearing flannel and says, “Survive if you dare.”

Pre-Fest Prep: Chaos, Caffeine, and Cold Floors

People imagine event prep is cute — packing boxes, labeling totes, sipping lattes. Let me correct that gently:

Event prep = stepping over hoodie piles, reheating the same cup of coffee three times, and screaming “Where’s my tape gun?!” into the void while simultaneously feeding the dog and printing logos.

Meanwhile, the house? Arctic. My morning routine wasn’t coffee — it was rearranging the entire living room so the pellet stove wouldn’t set the curtains on fire. Priorities were simple:

Don’t freeze. Don’t melt the curtains. Get these damn hoodies done.

The Glow Tent: My Feral Fever Dream Come to Life

And then… it happened. Rocktober Fest. The glow tent lit up like a neon fever dream — blacklights, glowing tumblers, fluorescent tees. It wasn’t a booth. It was an experience.

Kids lost their minds. Grown adults turned feral. People walked in and said my favorite word of the weekend:

“WOAH.”

That’s when I knew: every frozen morning, every late night, every frantic supply run — it was worth it.

The Aftermath: Exhausted, Frostbitten & Full-Hearted

By the end, I was running on festival fries and sheer adrenaline. But nothing beats seeing people love what you create — chaos fingerprints and all. Rocktober Fest reminded me that this business isn’t just about products. It’s about connection, conversation, and creating magic in parking lots and fairgrounds.

Even if I return home to a crooked couch and pellet ash on my socks — my heart is full.

What’s Next? Buckle Up. The Feral Season Is Just Beginning.

If you think Rocktober Fest was wild, wait until you see what’s coming:

Holiday Drops 🎄 Wicked, festive, and absolutely feral Black Friday Insanity 🖤 Deals that require a helmet New Apparel & Gift Items 🎁 For the bold, the sassy & the unapologetic

So keep your eyes open, your coffee hot, and your pellet stove primed — because The Feral Fox Co. isn’t slowing down.

To everyone who stopped by, supported, shopped, or just stepped into the glow — thank you.

You warmed a cold, chaotic, hoodie-printing heart.

🦊 Stay feral. The fun’s just starting.

If you thought this week was going to be calm, you clearly don’t live in my world. It’s homecoming week, which means I’m simultaneously drowning in orders, printing shirts, pressing hoodies, wrapping tumblers, AND still trying to show up as the loudest feral mother in the bleachers tomorrow night.

The big game is Friday at 7pm, and let me tell you, the energy is already unhinged. I swear, every time I walk into the school someone yells “Tridents up!” and another mom is trying to out-order the next with custom spirit gear. I love y’all, but also… why do 40 cowbells all need to be personalized before kickoff? My ears are already ringing just thinking about it. We’re going to sound like a damn stampede of feral dairy cows tomorrow, and honestly? I’m here for it.

On top of that, it’s order central over here. Hoodies, tees, glow-in-the-dark shirts, tumblers—you name it, it’s in the chaos pile waiting to be boxed. My press hasn’t cooled down in days, and I’m 90% sure the neighbors think I’m running a sweatshop for feral foxes out of my kitchen. (They’re not wrong.)

But let’s be real—this is why I do it. Tomorrow night, when those boys run onto the field under the lights, the stands are going to shake with Lakers pride. The tridents will be up, the cowbells will be deafening, and the moms (me included) will be screaming like our lives depend on it. Because this isn’t just football—it’s family, it’s community, it’s tradition, and it’s chaos wrapped in blue and gold.

So, if you’ve got your gear, wear it proud. If you didn’t order yet—well, good luck hearing me over the bells tomorrow when I tell you “you snoozed, you losed.”

Here’s to homecoming week, feral energy, and raising hell in the stands. Fear the Trident.

Stay loud. Stay proud. Stay feral. 🖤💛💙

—The Feral Fox Co.

by Andrea “Chief Chaos Coordinator” Woods

Listen… if I make it through this week without flipping a table or duct-taping myself to a tent pole, it’ll be a miracle. Let’s recap, shall we?

🌪 The Craft Fair Saga: Tents Were Flying, Not Sales

So, there I was at the craft fair this weekend, sweating like a sinner in church, trying to sling tumblers, tees, and Critter Biscuits while keeping my tent from taking flight. And when I say tents were blowing over, I mean Mary-from-Booth-12’s entire display of handmade potholders is somewhere in Canada right now.

Mine stayed standing, though — probably because it knows I’ve got enough rage to keep it anchored.

🏈 Football Season: The Most Wonderful Time of the Year (For Everyone Except Me)

Lake Region football season is here, which means I’ve basically signed my soul away to bleachers, cowbells, and chaotic carpool moms who think they’re NFL scouts. Jonah’s hyped, Wesley’s hyped, the rest of the team is hyped, the Coaches are hyped… meanwhile, I’m out here pricing tumblers and trying to remember who needs their name on the damn hoodie sleeve.

Tridents up, baby. Let’s go.

🫠 Family Drama & Fake People: Popcorn, Please

Oh, and can we talk about the family drama?

No, actually, we can’t… because if I start, this post will get flagged and we all know I’m on thin ice with my “language” already. Just know this:

Some people should get their own reality show. Others should get a hobby. That’s all I’ll say. 🫖

🎒 Back to School: Send Help. Or Coffee. Or Both.

Hunter’s heading back to school, which means I get the privilege of fighting with a 13-year-old about why deodorant is not optional, homework exists for a reason, and no, you cannot survive on Cheetos and ramen alone.

I love him, I really do… but Lord, give me strength.

🐾 Critter Biscuits: Treat of the Week Has Gone Pro

Now, on to the good stuff — Hunter’s Critter Biscuits has officially leveled up!

He’s doing things different now, folks:

🐶 New Treat Announced → Every Monday

📦 Order All Week → Closes Friday @ 5PM

🎉 Fresh AF + Ready Sunday

This week’s feature? Apple Peanut Butter Doggie Donuts — and yes, they’re as good as they sound. Hunter’s been working his little baker magic, and we’re keeping batches small so your pups get the freshest, drool-worthy goodness.

But don’t wait — because once we sell out, they’re gone faster than my patience at football practice.

🦊 Final Thoughts from Your Feral Fox

Between the craft fair chaos, football mania, fake people, school prep, and running a small business or three, I’m one loud noise away from full-blown feral mode.

But hey… at least the pups are eating good. 🐾

Go snag your box of Apple Peanut Butter Doggie Donuts now before Hunter eats them all himself:

Www.facebook.com/critterbiscuits

Until next time, stay hydrated, stay feral, and keep your tents tied down.

💚

Andrea + Hunter

Chief Chaos Coordinator + Chief Biscuit Baker

Because why do one thing when you can do ALL the things and cry about it later, right? 🦊🔥

Next weekend I’m throwing myself headfirst into a yard + craft sale at The Country Skillet Diner in Naples. It’s basically gonna be Walmart’s clearance aisle meets small-town chaos — vendors, random yard treasures, and probably someone trying to sell you expired Avon lotion from 2003. Pure vibes.

Meanwhile, my life? A hot dumpster fire with glitter on top. I’m drowning in custom orders (thank you, keep them coming, mama needs caffeine money), trying to “organize” my shop even though it looks like Michael’s and Amazon had a love child and it exploded in my living room, and still pretending I’m ever gonna get my life together. Spoiler: I won’t.

And let’s talk about my chickens. Those feathered freeloading assholes are out there eating like queens and giving me… drumroll… ONE egg a day. ONE. Like bitches, I did not sign up to run a goddamn retirement home for hens. Put out or get in the soup pot. 🐓🍲

On top of all that, football season has started. Which means I get to cheer my boy on under those Friday night lights (proud mom moment, obviously) but ALSO deal with the shrieking sideline Karens, the backseat coaching dads, and the absolute war crime that is carpooling with other people’s kids. Honestly? I’d rather raw-dog a cactus. 🙄

So yeah, next weekend is shaping up to be a real circus. Come shop, laugh, and watch me pretend like I’ve got my shit together. Spoiler: I don’t.

And if you can’t make it? Don’t cry — I’ve got new feral merch live on the website. Savage tumblers, unhinged tees, and all the inappropriate sass your soul’s been craving.

🦊 Shop here → [insert link]

See you at the sale — bring your cash, your patience, and if you’re feeling generous… maybe an egg or two, since apparently my hens are on strike.

If there’s one thing more American than hot dogs and questionable fireworks safety—it’s being loud, unapologetic, and just a little bit feral. Welcome to The Feral Fox Co.’s 4th of July edition, where the stars are shining, the stripes are flying, and your favorite small biz is out here being a whole damn vibe.

While the neighborhood is out there arguing about potato salad and burning their eyebrows off with roman candles, I’m over here running on iced coffee, unmedicated chaos, and a stack of custom shirt orders that may or may not have glitter stuck to them. (Yes, Cheryl, that is intentional sparkle. You’re welcome.)

This week, my workshop smells like vinyl, ambition, and probably burnt hair. The Cup Bar is stocked. The Feral Swear Bears are locked and loaded. The Mainely Feral tourist merch is ready to wreak havoc. And your girl? Fresh outta fucks, but never outta hustle.

What’s Hot Right Now (Besides Me Standing Near the Heat Press):

🔥 Feral AF Tees – Because nothing says “land of the free” like a shirt that screams “don’t talk to me, I’m over it.”

🔥 4-in-1 Can Tumblers – Keep that hard seltzer cold while you dodge family drama and political debates at the BBQ.

🔥 Mainely Feral Stickers & Decals – For the locals, the tourists, and anyone who’s just here for a wicked good time.

Upcoming Chaos:

– Got a pile of custom orders from the last craft fair. Y’all really came through, even in the rain.

– Football season is heating up, and I’ve got Lakers gear for days.

– Critter Biscuits (Hunter’s biz) is pumping out the dog treats faster than I can say “paws off my damn cupcakes.”

And yes, I reorganized my whole shop this week because sometimes the only way to feel like you’re in control of life is by alphabetizing your vinyl and rage-labeling your drawers.

Final Thought From the Fox:

Remember: this country was founded by drunk men in powdered wigs who said “no thanks” to taxes and “yes please” to raising hell. That makes being a little unhinged patriotic, actually.

So go forth, raise hell, and if you’re gonna blow stuff up—at least wear one of my tees while you do it. 😘

Stay wild. Stay loud. Stay wicked feral.

Happy 4th, you beautiful beasts.

🦊

– Andrea

CEO, Chaos Coordinator, Sparkler Safety Denier

Oh hey there, internet. Miss me?

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve slapped some unfiltered honesty into this blog, but buckle up, buttercups—because we’ve had a name change, a brand glow-up, and I’m more feral than ever. That’s right, 207 Customs is officially dead and buried (may she rest in hot glue gun heaven), and The Feral Fox Co. has risen from the ashes like a pissed-off phoenix with a Cricut.

Why the name change? Because I’m not just out here slapping vinyl on mugs and praying for Etsy miracles. I’m a walking whirlwind of sass, sarcasm, and swear words, and the old name just couldn’t keep up with the chaos anymore. The Feral Fox Co. is the real me: bold, brash, slightly inappropriate, and fresh outta fucks.

This rebrand wasn’t just a fresh logo and a catchphrase that would get me side-eyed at church. It was a full-blown identity shift—and I owe a huge shoutout to Behind the Scenes Maine, a small business coaching badass who finally got through my thick skull and reminded me of one thing: this brand should be built around ME—not what I think people want. Not what’s “palatable.” Not what the algorithm says is trendy. Just raw, unfiltered, savage me.

With her guidance, I stopped trying to squeeze my feral self into the glittery box of what other people expect. And let me tell you—it feels damn good to take up space as exactly who I am.

And now? I’ve been in full-on beast mode—rebranding, relabeling, and rebuilding this empire from the ground up with caffeine, cuss words, and a mild case of adult ADHD. If you’re new here, welcome to the jungle. If you’ve been here since the glitter days, thanks for surviving the evolution.

Now let’s talk about what’s coming up…

THE CUP BAR IS COMING TO TOWN.

This Saturday (June 28th), from 10–3, I’ll be posted up at The Village Green in Naples for the craft fair of all craft fairs—and I’m bringing my Cup Bar.

What’s a Cup Bar, you ask? It’s like a mimosa bar, but instead of booze, it’s tumblers… and instead of bottomless drinks, it’s bottomless sass. You pick your tumbler, pick your design, and I slap your attitude on a cup while you shop around or judge people with me. Custom cups, made on-site, just the way your emotionally unstable heart desires.

We’re talking:

Feral Fox designs Swear Bear sass Mainely Feral tourist bait And possibly a few cups that’ll get you side-eyed at PTA meetings (my specialty)

Cash, cards, Venmo, and your last shred of dignity accepted.

So yeah, life’s still chaotic, I’m still loud, and The Feral Fox Co. is only just getting started. Come get feral with me this Saturday—and if you can’t make it, don’t worry. The madness is always just a click away at www.theferalfox.com.

Big love and middle fingers,

Andrea 🦊

CEO of Hot Messes, Cup Queen of Chaos, and Your Favorite Feral Fox

Imagine walking into a room and your tagline flashes above your head like a neon sign. Not a job title. Not a personality quiz result. A full-send, no-filter, this-is-my-vibe tagline.

So naturally, I asked myself…

“If humans had taglines, what would mine be?”

And listen—mine would NOT be anything polite like “Live. Laugh. Love.”

I’m more “Caffeinated Chaos With a Side of ‘Don’t Test Me Today.’”

Let’s be real:

I run a business where swearing is part of the product line. My idea of “brand voice” is unhinged but lovable. I am chronically over it, always caffeinated, and allergic to fake shit.

So my tagline?

“Wicked Feral & Fresh Outta Fucks.”

It’s not just a mood. It’s a lifestyle.

It’s what powers The Feral Fox Co.

It’s what fuels the tees, the tumblers, the foul-mouthed gifts, and all the fire content that keeps my chaos crew coming back.

And if you’re reading this, you’re probably taglined-up yourself.

Here are some runner-up contenders for when I need to rotate the madness:

“Running on vibes, coffee, and revenge.” “Here for the drama, not the damage.” “A walking contradiction in cute shoes.” “Don’t poke the bear unless you want a sassy cup thrown at you.”

So now I’m flipping the script—

If humans had taglines, what would yours be?

Drop it in the comments or tag me on socials. Bonus points if it’s something that’d get you fired from a PTA meeting.

Now excuse me, I’ve got feral merch to design and zero time to pretend I’m normal.

🦊 Stay savage,

Andrea | The Feral Fox Co