Hey everyone—before we jump into this week’s essay, I wanted to send a sincere (and, I’ll admit it, slightly teary-eyed) THANK YOU for being here. Throughlines surpassed 500 subscribers last week, almost exactly one year after I started writing on Substack. This newsletter began as a creative outlet shortly after my work in federal AIDS research was brutally cut short by DOGE. I never imagined I’d stay committed for a full year, or make new IRL friends here (hi Jordan Mathews, ily!).
I also never imagined the opportunities that would come from expanding my creative writing practice—as I write this, I’m at my first writing residency, sitting at a desk in front of windows with a full view of North Carolina’s Blue Ridge Mountains.
Would I have even applied for this residency without the confidence I’ve gained from seeing this newsletter grow over the last year? I’m not so sure.
But what I am sure of—especially today, writing this note to you—is that your support over the last year has truly meant everything to me. So, from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU for being here.
(Oh, and stick around to the end of this newsletter for a sneak peek at some big changes coming to Throughlines very soon.)
xoxo Ashley
Spring in my world usually means a few things: at least one family member or friend visiting DC to see the cherry blossoms, unforgiving allergies as a thick layer of pollen coats my car windshield every morning, and (especially since I’ve been living with my husband) SPRING CLEANING.
As the title of this post suggests, I’ve been taking that last part seriously: I’m in a full-on “life spring cleaning” moment.
To be fair, I’ve never been much of a New Year’s resolutions type of girl—mostly because the absolute LAST thing I want to do in the dark and cold depths of January is anything related to self-improvement. Yuck.
Springtime, however, is a different story. I go slightly feral as soon as the benevolent daylight savings god gives us an extra hour of sunlight in March, and all of a sudden I’m feeling fresh and new as a baby calf (clumsy and confused and falling over, but very excited about the world around me).
I’m naming this season of mine a “soft rebrand.”
AcCoRdInG tO tHe InTeRnEt, a soft rebrand in the corporate world is:
a strategic, subtle update to a company’s visual identity or messaging—such as refreshing a logo, color palette, or tagline—designed to modernize the brand without losing existing brand equity. Unlike a full overhaul, it acts as a “brand refresh” to increase relevance and energy.
In short: companies tweak the visuals and wording, roll changes out gradually, and keep their core identity intact.
I’ve seen “soft rebrand” used to describe the way Mastercard removed its name from its logo. They used the above infographic to walk customers (and shareholders, I’m sure) through the evolution and, I can only assume, to make sure nobody lost their mind and started a culture war about it (looking at you, Cracker Barrel stans).
Here’s how I’ve been softly rebranding my own life for spring 2026—and how you might try to do the same.
I’m inspired by fellow Substacker Jenna O'Brien, who combines storytelling and visual art/branding in Feeling! Magazine. Every month, Jenna releases a new color palette inspired by the season. Here’s April’s.
My friend Lia Zneimer has been good about using these color palettes to refresh her Google calendar every month. I’m doing this for spring, too—it’s a small change, but for me it’s been a nice and refreshing change built into the regular monotony of life.
Splurge a little each week to buy some fresh springtime flowers. I personally am a huge tulip girl, but try out a farmer’s market in your area (or go to your local grocery store) to see what fun blooms are in season. I especially like putting fresh flowers on my work desk in the spring.
Obsessed with Amber Mayfield Hewett’s method of avoiding the “drunk tulip” look:
My husband and I currently share a home office, and our setup consisted of two large standing desks, my two bookshelves, and my makeup vanity (which inevitably became the surface where I dumped all my random loose parking tickets papers).
We recently went on a spring cleaning frenzy and realized the chaos wasn’t going to work anymore. So we got the vanity out of there, shoved it into my oddly shaped closet, and moved both desks to face the window. Everybody’s happy, and we 100% feel like new people.
Is there a room in your house that’s been pissing you off lately? Or, if you’re in a studio or dorm, is there a new creative way you can position the furniture to serve you better? Try it out—it might be the soft rebrand you need this season.
I am fundamentally allergic to the idea of a “whole new wardrobe for spring!!” (who has the budget, who has the time, who wants to return that many packages). But we’re soft rebranding here, not starting from scratch.
This season, try building a *tiny spring uniform* instead of doom-scrolling for a whole new personality. Since I will soon be going into the office three times a week, I decided to try Nuuly to rent some fun pieces for my wardrobe that I normally would be too scared to buy full price. I ended up buying two of the pieces in my first box because I loved them so much! If you’d like to try Nuuly too, you can use my code for $30 your first month.
If a clothes subscription box isn’t your thing, no sweat. Go to your closet and pick out:
one pair of pants or a skirt you genuinely like wearing,
a true basic (think white tee, something you can throw on alone or under something fancier like a blazer),
one top or sweater that makes you feel a little more alive on Zoom,
and one “fun” layer or accessory (a jacket, earrings, lipstick, whatever) that reads as a little more “spring” than you’d usually go for.
Wear some combination of those pieces three times a week. Notice how it feels to have a default look that actually matches who you are right now, instead of a closet full of random past selves. A soft rebrand for your look, not a crazy makeover.
A lot of our identity-level “brand” comes from what we quietly marinate in all day: the accounts we follow, the newsletters we read, the podcasts (or audiobooks🙋🏼♀️) we let talk in our ears while we do the dishes.
This spring, I’m trying a gentle audit of my inputs, and I encourage you to do the same.
Look at your inbox, Substack queue, Instagram, TikTok, podcast app, etc. and ask:
Who makes me feel more curious, grounded, or energized?
Why do I looove to read Ashley Hackett’s substack so much?👀Who makes me feel like I’m perpetually behind on some imaginary syllabus?
What does current-me actually want more of?
What would the future, fully idealized version of me be consuming?
Then unfollow or mute a few things you’ve outgrown, and deliberately add one or two voices that align with the season you’re entering.
It’s a soft rebrand for your brain because you’re not going cold turkey on social media—cold turkey is not my thing, but good for you if you can handle it—but more like “if I’m going to be 40 tabs deep in something, let it be the obsessions I actually care about.”
Behind the scenes, that’s what I’ve been doing with this space, too—gently shifting what I pay attention to, so the newsletter can lean harder into intense curiosity, rabbit holes, and hyperfixations.
So, hey, you caught me—I may or may not be doing a total rebrand of this newsletter instead of a soft one. A lot of the Throughlines content will still be here (e.g., the 1000 Rejections Challenge is here to stay), but the new name, logo, and content series feel much more aligned. I am SO EXCITED to announce the full thing next week. Stay tuned!
But if I were a more chill version of myself—and if I hadn’t already been thinking about a rebrand for several weeks—here’s how I would approach a soft rebrand for an existing Substack newsletter:
Clarify what (if anything) actually feels *off.* Before touching your logo or title, grab a pen & paper and free-write the first thing that comes to mind on a few questions:
What parts of this newsletter still feel alive to me?
Where am I phoning it in?
What do my readers actually seem to respond to?
What am I secretly craving more of?
Look for tiny shifts here rather than a full identity crisis. Maybe you don’t need a whole new premise; maybe the little “random links” section at the bottom is your favorite part and you need to give it more room.
Tweak the container, not the core. Look at the outside of your project: title, tagline, section headers, recurring series, etc. Could you:
change your tagline to better reflect what you’re obsessed with now,
rename (or retire) a recurring feature that no longer fits,
or update your “About” page so it sounds like present-day you, rather than the less-confident version of you that wrote it when you were first starting out?
Prototype the new energy in one issue. Instead of announcing a sweeping change and then trying to live up to it, quietly test the version of your newsletter you think you want.
For one or two issues, write the newsletter as if it already had the new name and focus. Follow your curiosities a little further than usual. See how it feels in your body: lighter, heavier, more fun, more draining?
If it feels good—and if your readers seem to be along for the ride—then you can make the soft rebrand official.
That’s more or less what I’ve been doing behind the scenes for the last few months: soft-rebranding my inputs, shifting my days around this writing, letting myself go 40 tabs deep on the things I can’t stop thinking about, and noticing what sticks.
Unsurprisingly, what sticks is…hyperfixation. On jealousy, the certainty crusade, death, interviewing for fiction, rejection…you get it.
So yes: next week, I’ll be back in your inbox with a new name, a new look, and a slightly sharper spine for this project.
Call it a soft rebrand. Call it a new era. Either way, I’m really glad you’re here for it.
xoxo Ashley
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