A Conversation with Hello Again’s Rebecca Earle
A duck in a red sweater and plaid skirt peers out, looking oddly sophisticated. A German Shepherd in a cardigan stands poised, ready to head to class. A squirrel flaunts a patterned cardigan and long skirt, radiating bohemian warmth. A pigeon, dressed in a plaid shirt and suede vest, somehow makes vintage look effortless. It’s impossible not to stop and stare. The animal-headed mannequins—they exude quirky, polarizing, and an unapologetically weird.
The animal headed mannequins can be found in the window store front of Hello Again on Central Avenue in Dover, New Hampshire. Hello Again is a vintage consignment shop that opened in 2022. The store has quickly become a local favorite, offering a carefully curated selection of vintage and upcycled clothing, heritage brands, and unique accessories. With a focus on sustainability and individuality, Hello Again specializes in high-quality pieces that are wearable, clean, and full of character. From cozy wool sweaters to timeless denim and hand-typed clothing tags, every item in the store tells a story.
Image blatantly stolen from Facebook.
The store’s supply chain relies heavily on consignors, ensuring high-quality secondhand clothing gets a second life. To reduce waste further, owner Rebecca Earle supplements her inventory thoughtfully, seeking out unique items in bulk or purchasing from individual sellers in ways that minimize environmental impact. “Shopping secondhand isn’t just about affordability—it’s about creating a circular economy that values quality and reduces excess,” she explains.
“When was the last time you went into a big-box store like Kohl’s and had an excellent shopping experience?” Earle asks. Customers are invited to explore thoughtfully. With every item meticulously cleaned and ready to wear, the store offers a stark contrast to the hurried, impersonal feel of traditional retail shopping.
Earle’s career began with roles as a design intern at Eddie Bauer and as a design manager at Camden Gardens. She later served as creative director at Botanical Designs in Seattle. “I was a professional holiday decorator. It’s a job you don’t even realize exists until you know it exists.”
Earle’s work took her into some of the most iconic spaces in Seattle. She designed intricate, icy arrangements of lights for Benaroya Hall, home of the Seattle Symphony. And one of her most ambitious projects was a three-year contract for a sprawling shopping complex in Bellevue, Washington. The centerpiece of the design featured a towering 35-foot Christmas tree built over a fountain and adorned with carousel reindeer. With large corporate spaces, hotel lobbies, and grand venues as her playground, Earle’s designs turned ordinary spaces into magical, immersive holiday experiences.
However, Earle’s hectic schedule from Halloween through New Year’s left little room for family, turning the holidays into a blur of deadlines and exhaustion. She also grappled with the environmental implications of her work—importing vast quantities of plastic decorations from overseas and contributing to a cycle of waste and excess that clashed with her personal values.
“It wasn’t who I was as a person. I was almost 30, and I needed to either go to grad school or figure out a new path. My brother, a professor at the University of New Hampshire, joked about me coming out to [New Hampshire] nanny for his kids, and that ended up becoming my opportunity to move across the country and start fresh.”
Earle’s move to New Hampshire was a leap into the unknown. It was her first time downsizing her life, sorting through her possessions, and letting go of what didn’t fit into a single pod for the cross-country journey. Her brother and sister-in-law, who were just starting out with little furniture of their own, welcomed her contributions. To this day, her old dining room table and bedroom set still sit in their home—a reminder of the shared adventure.
“I don’t think I could have moved across the country by myself. I definitely wouldn’t have ended up in New Hampshire because I had never been here before. The closest I’d been was New York City.”
And a business course at UNH proved a turning point.
“I had a really amazing business stats professor. She was like, ‘Why are you even doing this? You don’t need an MBA to have your own business.’ That stuck with me, and we’ve stayed friends since.”
Earle then launched Cotillion Bureau in Kittery in 2016, combining her background in design, sales, and her passion for sustainable fashion. A year later, she moved to Portsmouth, and the store became known for its elegant and eclectic offerings, establishing itself as a go-to destination for vintage enthusiasts. Six years later, she expanded her vision with Hello Again in Dover.
And like the clothing, the mannequins are second-hand, which meant some of the mannequins had heads, and some didn’t have heads. But Earle didn’t want the mannequins to be mismatched or headless. “When we moved everything out of storage from the Portsmouth store, we found the animal masks from Halloween. So I was like, ‘We could just put animal heads on them,’ and then they’ll all have heads.”
“The heads filter people,” Earle continued. “The people who are really turned off by the animal heads are not going to come in and buy a 1980s sweater and a rock band tee anyway. We exist for the people who are a little queer, a little weird, a little oddball—those are our people.”
The shop is particularly meaningful for LGBTQ+ youth, providing a supportive atmosphere where individuals can explore clothing that resonates with their identity. “Standing up for your people attracts more like-minded individuals,” Earle explains. “Our customers come here because they know they’ll find a place that embraces and celebrates who they are.”
Many young customers have their first experiences of trying on clothing outside societal norms at Hello Again, finding items that resonate deeply with their sense of self.
The shop features non-gendered clothing racks, removing the barriers often imposed by traditional retail environments. “We’re a safe space where everyone can shop without judgment,” Earle says. “If someone feels uncomfortable with the idea of non-gendered racks or inclusive practices, they probably aren’t our people, and that’s okay.” For Earle, this is part of the store’s mission: to offer a welcoming environment where all individuals feel seen, respected, and celebrated.
This unapologetic embrace of individuality aligns with Earle’s broader critique of today’s fashion industry. She is deeply critical of fast fashion’s emphasis on cheap, disposable clothing that prioritizes profit over sustainability. “They [the fashion industry] are churning out low-quality plastic garments that aren’t recyclable and don’t last,” she says, calling the practice a morally wrong approach, and she believes people deserve access to well-made, durable clothing.
Earle says, “There’s nothing more flattering and more confidence-building than just being in clothing that fits correctly.” For her, that sentiment extends beyond fashion. In Seattle, Earle’s career sparkled with big, ambitious projects. But the pace, the scale, and the environmental compromises felt misaligned with who she was. Moving to New Hampshire allowed her to find a space that fit her values, her creativity, and her vision.
And when it came time to name her new store, Hello Again felt natural. Inspired by a close friend’s dream shop name and the Cars’ song of the same title, Hello Again captures the spirit of starting over—both for her and the clothing she curates. Hello Again represents the beauty of second chances—whether it’s finding a new purpose, a new identity, or simply giving a garment a new life.
