Younger Selves: Molly Sparks Sailors

Younger Selves is an interview series exploring the connection between our past and present selves. It’s a chance to better understand how our earliest years, and even decades, have shaped who we are today, while showcasing the importance of honoring our younger selves throughout our lives.

Molly Sparks Sailors is a 38-year-old graphic designer and art director who grew up on a little farm outside the small town of Perry, Kansas and now lives in Queens, New York. She builds thoughtful, visually-led brand worlds across fashion, beauty, wellness, and hospitality brands and has been a creative director at places like the Smithsonian, Soho House, Victoria’s Secret, Zero Bond, and many others. Molly is also the author of Sparksnote, a design-focused newsletter about slowing down, noticing details, and finding sparks of beauty that quietly shape how we live and work. Below, Molly talks about meeting people where they are, the benefits of having dedicated time for silence, reflection, and creativity, building furniture with her dad, and so much more.

I lived in the middle of nowhere, so there was a real need to make your own fun. My imagination became my favorite pastime. I loved dressing up and creating make-believe worlds.

My most distinct imaginary friends were actually two dueling mafia families, the Gettys and the Gottis, whom I would cook for and help settle disagreements between. I’m not sure how I even knew what the mafia was, but the fact that The Godfather was my mom’s favorite movie probably had something to do with it.

A Red Cross apron. I was obsessed with it and wore it daily for years as a toddler. My parents would have to sneak it into the wash while I was napping. It actually inspired the biggest piece in my house today. I found a vintage dealer who sells Red Cross flags and bought a huge one from the 1930s. It’s a daily reminder of my younger self, and I laugh because, of course, I was obsessed with a simple geometric shape in a primary color, which is very much my aesthetic today. Of course, after looking through old photos, not a single picture of me wearing it can be found.

Summer nights at my childhood home. Catching lightning bugs in the yard and listening to cicadas.

This was never really clear. I didn’t think that way. It was more about where I wanted to live and who I wanted to be around. I dreamed of living in a big city or near the ocean, but I don’t have a clear memory of wanting to be one specific thing.

It would have to be Gilmore Girls. I remember discovering it early in high school. My dad was known for making a last-minute trip to the store before Christmas and filling our stockings with a very random assortment of DVDs. One year, all of us received a copy of Easy A with Emma Stone, which is still a running joke in my family.

But one Christmas he gave me Season 5 of Gilmore Girls. After watching it, I became obsessed and immediately needed to see the rest of the series. The show combined humor and intelligence in a way I had never seen on television before. The strong-willed, funny, and ambitious characters of Lorelai and Rory became my heroes. To this day, it remains one of my favorite comfort watches.

A distinct memory caught on tape is of my cousin and me putting on a fashion show. She appears first in a beautiful ballerina outfit, smiling sweetly at the camera. Then I arrive wearing boxing gloves and a ski mask, speaking in a made-up language. It pretty much captures who I was as a child.

Being weird. I was a unique child, but as I moved into my teenage years and college, I drifted toward a herd mentality, joining a sorority, dressing like everyone else. As I get older, it’s the texture and weirdness that I try to reintroduce and enjoy more in myself.

I think silliness was always my preferred way of moving through the world. As I’ve gotten older, it’s evolved into something I mostly share with my close friends, family, and husband. But my favorite place to let it out is with kids.

I hope I never lose that ability. One thing I think about often is that I never want to stop relating to kids. I want to be a safe place for them to be their weird, authentic selves. The adults who embraced that side of me made a lasting impact, and I hope I can do the same for them.

I was obsessed with designing my room, whether it was in the house we lived in or in the imaginary future house my parents talked about building. My dad restores historic homes for a living and can make just about anything, so I was constantly coming up with projects for us to do together.

Most of them never happened. My plan for a Clueless-inspired revolving closet, for example, was not exactly feasible in the space we had. But I loved having an idea and sketching it out, whether it was redesigning my room or creating signage for my tree house. It was always about imagining something and then figuring out how to bring it to life.

To this day, my dad and I have built several pieces for my apartment together, including my coffee table and bookshelf.

One day, my dad said I could pick a color for the bathroom. I chose blue and assumed we would go to the store together to select the exact shade. As a kind surprise, my dad picked out a blue himself and painted it while I was at school. To say I was distraught would be an understatement. I was being a brat, but it also spoke to my vision for things, as silly as they were. I was never unclear of my opinion of visual things and that has been a great asset in what I do daily today.

I think my home. I’m extremely lucky to say that my parents created an environment where I could be fully myself. I never felt unsupported, and whenever I had a problem, they helped me work through it and find a solution. They were a steady presence in my life and gave me the confidence to be who I was. I always knew that even when the world outside felt hard, coming home meant coming back to a safe place.

I went to the University of Kansas and studied social work. I didn’t pursue creative work until after college. A few years after moving to New York, I went back to school at Parsons to study graphic design.

Even though I don’t use my social work degree in a formal sense, the things I learned have been invaluable. Understanding conflict resolution, assessing situations, and determining the best way to respond are skills I use regularly in both life and work.

I’m still working on this, but not apologizing all the time. I think women are often taught to say sorry for simply existing and taking up space, and when you add Midwestern culture to the mix, it becomes an avalanche of unnecessary apologizing. It’s an ongoing project, but I’ve seen real improvement.

I used to think friendship was something you measured by quantity, regardless of how reciprocal it was or how those people made you feel. I let go of that a long time ago. Now I feel lucky to be surrounded by a small group of uplifting but honest friends who leave me feeling replenished after spending time together.

I really try to meet people where they are. If someone is going through a hard time, I try to show up in meaningful ways. I think years of feeling different and excluded have given me a heightened sense of when people close to me are struggling.

I’m consistent with daily meditation and Morning Pages after working through The Artist’s Way. Having dedicated time for silence, reflection, and creativity helps me stay grounded and show up as a better version of myself.

My autonomy. I have always had my own way of doing things and moving through the world. From a very young age, I had a strong sense of what I believed in and learned to trust my gut. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve tried to protect that instinct and not let outside opinions drown it out.

I have a strong sense of boundaries. People-pleasing used to be a core part of my personality, but I’ve let go of it whenever it comes at the expense of my well-being.

That I’ve had the privilege to travel the world for work and design brands I knew as a kid for a living would have been beyond anything my younger self could have imagined.

The weirdest, most niche thing you love or are interested in is your superpower.

At that age, I had a jaw deformity that required extensive surgery. My recovery included a few scary complications, and my jaw was wired shut for three months. After that came years of dental work. Being 13 is already difficult, and this experience only made me feel more different.

If I could talk to my 13-year-old self, I would tell her that this experience would make her stronger and more compassionate. The hardest things we go through often shape the best parts of who we become. I would also tell her that even when something feels endless, it will pass. I still think back to that time whenever I face something difficult because it reminds me that I can handle hard things.

Now that I’m pregnant with my first child, I think often about the kind of parent I want to be. I want to protect my child, but I also know that I grew the most by working through challenges with my parents’ support. They didn’t fix everything for me. They helped me face hard things, and that resilience is one of the greatest gifts they gave me. I hope to pass that on.

Thank you so much to Molly for sharing your younger self with us! You can read more of Molly’s writing by subscribing to Sparksnote and learn more about her work here.

If there’s someone you’d like to see featured on Younger Selves (maybe that’s you!) feel free to leave a comment or send me an email at hello@skylarallen.co.

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