Lara Spencer Is Back
BY ISAIAH FRIZZELL
![](https://woodriverweekly.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/dollhouse-135x300.jpeg)
The Dollhouse? Reopening? The historic, iconic, and sparkling little consignment store that could is back, full tilt. The enigmatic Lara Spencer is home again, bringing her visionary heart and a living lucid dream to the people of the Wood River Valley. At a new location in Hailey, The Dollhouse is reborn and in service to the community with Spencer’s radical take on social well-being through her amour de soi bodega.
History Does Rhyme
“All of this is a whole miracle,” says Spencer on the reopening of The Dollhouse. “All of this is happening through manifestation and the support of the community.” Spencer lives her life through vision and prayer. “When it’s right, it flows and is almost effortless.”
Spencer has been in consignment for over 25 years, far before it was a trend. She was recruited by the Seattle Mariners to help build Safeco Field working as a merchandise coordinator and manager for the flagship team store for a decade—a Major League babe working for Major League Baseball garnering the coveted title of Employee of the Year. How exquisitely American.
Dottie Spencer, Lara’s mother, was a well-known interior designer who worked for Sun Valley Rug and Tile, while her brother, Michael Beasley, director of technology for The Community School, were longtime residents of the Valley. Lara Spencer, rocking the block in Seattle, one day received a letter. Her niece was being bullied at school, in a big way. Perhaps unconventionally beautiful and sensitive, the abuse was enough for the embattled young girl to reach out to her aunt and the potency of the note exploded in the crucible of Spencer’s soul. She knew immediately what she was going to do and how she would do it. Everything she was to do became manifest in a single blistering moment as Spencer decided, resolutely, to move from Seattle to Ketchum and open The Dollhouse as a service to others with the express purpose of healing the esteem-afflicted and boosting the inner confidence and self-image of all who would enter or come in contact with her services.
“The mission statement is and has been, always, ‘service first, financial gain second.’ I made the decision to move when I received that letter. ‘I’m going to move to Ketchum where my family is. I’m going to build this thing, I’m going to be recycled, I’m going to be of service and I’m going to make sure everybody who walks through the door feels valued.’ All of a sudden I knew what I was going to build. I knew what the name was. I knew where it was going to go and I had never even seen the space. The Valley needs this. Service first.
“So, I called The Advocates in 2006 and talked to the social change coordinator, Darrel Harris, and I said, ‘My name is Lara. I’m going to build a small business and it’s going to be inclusive and positive to everyone and I want to be of service to you.’ And that’s how that started.”
A survivor of domestic violence herself, Spencer was on a mission to be of service to the traumatized and the bullied. The Dollhouse was open for a decade, from 2006–2016. Longtime locals know it well and remember it ecstatically as a pure vibe. More than a store, it was an egregore.
“All these years later I’m restarting. Before I put any money down on anything, I called Darrel Harris and I said, I’m back! I’m ready to help and I’m going to run it the same way I did before, and she lost her mind. She said, “I was just talking about you yesterday!” And literally we’d not spoken in over five years! She said, ‘We’re looking for new visions and creative events like you did all those years ago.’ God, source, creator, whatever you call it, things come together in that way. But the way it has to work for me, I have to give to heal.”
The Heart Meanders Magnetic
Spencer has been through much since The Dollhouse closed, but the critical years were those of the COVID-19 pandemic. These years inflicted acute trauma on nearly everyone, on nearly every level. “In my particular case, it was a very, very hard realization to see that half the people don’t care about the other half of the people. And my spirit broke. I live for service and it really damaged me spiritually. Before the pandemic, people moved here to be connected, to slow down their lives and to give. And then it changed dramatically, and the change was so fast it sped up everything that happened in our world, in our community, and we didn’t have the infrastructure. Our service workers are leaving. And to be honest, it’s us, the face-running service workers of the community, we create the vibe of this town. We’re the different that make it different, the kind that make it kind. If we lose all of us, there’s nothing to offer except nature, which we didn’t build in the first place. Our tapestry is unwoven. Anyone in this town that knows me will be surprised to hear that I couldn’t hold a positive space. I could not do it. I was rocked.”
Community was the first to suffer through isolation, polarization and misguided stances pressed by mainstream media. A confluence of events pressed Spencer. Her mother died on her birthday in December just before the pandemic and shortly after she had spinal surgery. Things were piling up. “After that experience, what I needed was community members. I was working at the time during the pandemic and I just, I resigned. Too broken. I had a girlfriend call me. ‘Come over to the Sawtooth Brewery, the tap room in Hailey. I’m leaving. Come take this job.’ I thought, no, I don’t think I can do that job, I don’t think this is what will heal me. She knows me very well. She said, “No, you’re wrong, come down.” I went and I sat there for about three hours. I had the best root beer and watched her work. And it happened, I got this great warm feeling. And I’m realizing this is where the community hangs out, year-round. They want a family atmosphere to relax in. And I realized I can do this, I can be a part of this and I can heal. And I saw how much work they do in the community with Music in the Park in the summertime and a couple beer [sales] to charity, one being the Big Wood River Project. Things got better and better for me being surrounded by the community. It got me to this space where my heart is almost healed and I met the people who helped manifest the magic.”
Spencer speaks with a heavy undertone of concern that sparkles with care.
‘I knew when I’m ready it will happen. And it was Jed Lyttle, a fifth-generation Haileyite, a Realtor, who comes in for his weekly minute to himself, who said, “Lara, there’s a sign!” I ran across the street and the sign was down. Heartbroken. Two weeks later, he says, “Lara, there’s that same sign again,” so I ran over there and wrote the number on a Post-it note and later that night I sent a message. It was an owner who’s been in the Valley for a very long time. He cares about the way our town is constructed, so that we don’t lose any more history. He knew who I was. I wasn’t the first in line but everyone fell out and this deal to rent the space was done with a handshake. He had faith in me.”
Extolling the smoothness of the wheels that service-to-your-community keeps oiled, Spencer raps onward.
“I called Darrel and people came out of the woodwork and said, “I’m going to support you the best I can.” You know, like even bringing clothes in a bag because I’m in consignment. But what made the most impact was that people were cheerleading for me to be my best self and several of these people had just moved to the Valley from California (Spencer stresses the syllables) but they were kind and they were physically contributing to the community. And that’s when I realized, holy cow, I’m here to say our community ISN’T gone. I have to remind people! We didn’t write the story about the hurt. How the pandemic affected the community. So you know, how do we fix what was broken, how do we get that back? We need to regroup and I’m here to stand up and say, ‘This is how you fix it.’ How do you move forward and back at the same time? Watch me do this! I’m going to move forward by building a business that gives back to the Valley. Not only am I going to move forward by building The Dollhouse again, I’m going to roll it back at the same time. It’s not Dollhouse 2.0. It’s Dollhouse negative zero.
Can You Hear Me Now?
“I have a telephone, one line, with buttons. It doesn’t have call waiting and there’s an answering machine that you put a tape in. And the slowdown comes with things like that. I’m going to make sure that we have eye contact and meaningful conversations happen because The Dollhouse offers a lot of pretty things but they’re just a vehicle to get to a deeper subject matter. A lot of people can create a store but I’m blessed with a gift that helps people feel intimately close to me and through the vehicle of fashion we get to talk about self-image, about feeling less-than at the job, and we get to talk about winning. You know, I wore this jacket you fit me in and got the job! Those are the conversations that lead to success for everyone. And if the people around me are successful, are healing, they’re going to carry that message forward. That’s the point. I care first about kindness and community and second about the money. That’s a winning system in this community. So we’re in the process of building something that’s so needed now. Because of the pandemic onslaught, people need an extra way for a side hustle that’s in town.”
Consignment is something like a ‘public goods’; an inexhaustible resource inclusive to all. When community members, who care about local and care about community, have a means to generate income, within their community, they have a flexible resource to use and replenish for the benefit of all. It becomes a sort of mecca, stitching the fabric of the community back together.
As Spencer says, “Consignment is a very specialized niche in the retail world and it takes years to master it. You can’t work at Nordstrom for 20 years, walk in and run a consignment store. It’s super-hands-on and I failed a lot before I got really good at it. I’m not an online seller. If I’m selling to my community, my community should kinda walk in the door unless they’re bedridden or need something special and then I’ll drive to your house.
“I’m going to be able to bring things in, sell them, and then those checks will go out and pay someone’s rent. Some of them will go into a savings account for someone in high school. I’m able to make them more money than any store in this Valley or anything online.”
The Dollhouse will be directly across the street from The Attic. Spencer states that when she receives items that she can’t sell, she’ll be donating them directly to The Attic. “Because The Attic has proven what they do with that money. I’ve watched them grow – the housing they provide, the services.”
Standards
Spencer was the very first consignment boutique in the Valley. In addition to sitting on the board of directors for The Advocates, she was also their keynote speaker. Community is in her DNA. She’s mentored high school students who received credit for school through her programs, helped the Hailey Fire Department buy their first flagpole, and created a fundraising event for the art department at Wood River High School.
“How do we inspire others to a higher plane? Impact. It’s all about impact, heartfelt impact. I have a trunk full of love letters from so many locals. People who know. They’ll be able to come in and not be judged.”
A Love Letter to Community
“Dear Lara – Do you know what happens in your shop? Well, let me tell you. Spirit happens. Light happens. Empowerment, grace, beauty. Love happens in your shop. I’m not sure one can accurately put a name to what happens at The Dollhouse, but I can tell you that people have a transformative experience there. You take such great care of the women. Truly great care from your heart. You exude the truest light, love & share it freely. You and The Dollhouse are an amazing gift to this Valley. Rock on! Doll #1 (A local shopper) from Spencer’s collection of love letters to her and The Dollhouse.
Spencer’s last ad for The Dollhouse had said, ‘It’s not goodbye, it’s see you later.’ A mock cover of Rolling Stone magazine — the ad was prescient. A true Phoenix, Spencer has arrived again.
“Everyone matters. I don’t know if I could have done it without the love of so many people saying, ‘It’s your time.’ Energy is a real thing. The energy they’re throwing at me actually matters.They were pushing the energy and giving me so much love, it manifested!”
“My specialty is women and teen girls. It’s my counseling ability. I relate to that, that’s my background as a survivor of domestic violence and living through abuse. But the landscape has changed as far as gender roles and what it looks like now. I don’t think there’s any other store open but The Dollhouse Consignment Boutique that is a gender-fluid recycled fashion house. That’s what it is and I’m proud to call it that. There will be signs in Spanish because that’s important. It’s about the confidence, it’s not about the ego. I want to own it and set a new standard for what we do in this Valley and open up that mindset. I’ll set the tone. The Dollhouse was always that. It’s a mix of fashion and styles and purposes. Gender-fluid is so new in this Valley. I have a new construct.
“I’m going to take in women’s sizes zero to 3X. I’m trying to break down all these barriers. You know, junior cut girls size zero to thirteen. And this is a test because men wear their clothes out here in this Valley, so specifically men’s cuts? I want graphic T-shirts, band T-shirts or something odd. I want hoodies, cowboy jeans and 501s because all of that can flex. If that works, we’ll expand it. I’m going to take feedback and we’ll grow in the direction that works for the community.”
Fashion holds many keys. Uniforms, power suits, trending styles, club kid fits—it takes a belief in oneself, not a selfish grasping, but genuine self-care, self-love and the desire to inspire others. Often the brightly dressed are judged as attention seeking and while that may be occasionally true, the inner confidence required to wear expressive clothing is an intentional gift to those who observe the wearer. It can be inspiring and at it’s core is a type of service—an energy exchange donated by the person gleefully wearing the outfit.
“This is about love. It’s about loving your community enough to say, “I’m going to take a stand.’ The pandemic broke me and I became bitter. I’m not afraid of anything in this world but I was afraid to be bitter. It happened to me and I had to fight to get it out of my spirit. So how do I, now with a platform, help bring back our town? It’s slowing things down, using a push-button telephone, making sure the interactions happen.”
Spencer laughs and twirls the idea of putting a sticker up that says ‘No Cellphones’. She flinches at the idea of using Apple Pay because she wants to be able to look people in the eye, say thank you and continue the conversation.
“It’s about the physical modeling. Welcome to The Dollhouse! Not allowing negative-image selftalk in the store, helping people switch their language and actually walking the walk. Giving clothing out to, of course, The Advocates, but I will support Mountain Humane because of the dogs and cats and animals! The women of this Valley who’ve been here for decades, like myself, it is incumbent upon us to walk that walk and be grace. That’s a huge word, grace. You know we lost the grace, the ability to be graceful for a little bit there. I know so many people that think it’s gone. I’m here to say ‘NO, IT ISN’T’!
Spencer doesn’t so much speak as sing the essence of community and the ability for solutions-based thinking. “Community members whispered about the problems that arose from people who came here and didn’t say ‘on your left’ or just push you out of the way, let their dogs go anywhere and not pick it up. People who don’t understand how to live this way, in this community. The demoralization came because we whispered. I don’t have to whisper anymore. This is a ‘we’ planet. We are the solution. We have been demoralized but we don’t have to stay there!
“I think The Dollhouse will have a community-standards board in the store so people understand “how we live and why we live the way we do.” Doing community our way. Yeah! I’m gonna do that, oh my goodness!”
The time is now. Grand opening date will be advertised on Facebook and via press release.
How to Consign at The Dollhouse
Beginning May 15, 2024, there will be an open dropbox any time between 12 p.m. and 6 p.m. on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday through the end of May. You can bring up to 30 items clean, folded in a garbage bag—anything from jewelry to shoes to handbags to clothing.
If you have any special needs (e.g: a late-night drop or otherwise) email Lara Spencer at thedollhouse5b@gmail.com
Lara Spencer is a 5B OG, iykyk – a genuine Phoenix ready to rock the Valley wide awake and embroider the community with kindness and love.
After the month of May, The Dollhouse will be consignment by appointment only. Landline phone number to come.