No Gatekeeping with Carly Sane
If you’ve ever been to the tiny town of Fairplay, Colorado, you already know this: community still means something here.
It’s the kind of place where people wave, linger, and ask how you’re really doing and actually wait for the answer. The hospitality feels almost out of place in a world that’s grown increasingly rushed and disconnected. Personally, anytime I am there I have to actively remind myself to “slow down.” Any Fairplay local will offer the same easy warmth, the kind that reminds you what small towns are supposed to feel like. That deep devotion to one another isn’t performative or nostalgic; it's lived, daily, and woven into everything that lasts here. And Fairplay’s local thrift store owner Carly Sane is no different.
When Synchronicity Thrift was taking its first fragile steps, Carly Sane was making another decision that would permanently change her life. At the same time she was opening a business, navigating uncertainty, partnership shifts, and the weight of building something from nothing; she chose to go fully deaf in order to receive cochlear implants. It wasn’t a side note or a separate chapter. It all happened at once. Her hearing, her identity, her friendships, and her livelihood were all in motion, all unsettled. While most people ease into entrepreneurship with one major life change at a time, Carly was standing at the intersection of several, knowing that everything familiar was about to change and choosing to move forward anyway.
Some businesses are born from spreadsheets, five‑year plans, and perfectly aligned visions.
Others show up because life detonates your plans and leaves you standing there like, “okay… now what?” Carly didn’t set out to build Sync Thrift as it exists today. It isn’t the destination. It wasn’t even the original idea. And that’s exactly why her story is one of my favorites.
Synchronicity Thrift opened in June of 2021 in Fairplay, Colorado with a vision that was deeply community‑rooted. The original spark wasn’t retail for retail’s sake. It was about education, sustainability, and creating a place where people could learn how to do things for themselves: gardening, canning, skill‑sharing, connection. The business began as a shared idea, and like many early ventures, it shifted quickly once it met real life. What matters here isn’t the details of why that partnership ended, it’s the timing. Carly learned early, and painfully, that alignment matters. Not just vision, but timing, capacity, and emotional readiness. Within months, the original structure no longer made sense, and everything had to be unwound.
That kind of reset can end a business. Instead, it reshaped this one.
By November 2021, Carly reopened Synchronicity Thrift as a sole proprietor on 11/11, (because synchronicity matters here) while simultaneously navigating a major, life-changing surgery and the reality of running a business alone for the first time. This wasn’t a triumphant “girl boss” moment. It was quiet. Uncertain. And transparently, Heavy.
There was grief for the original business idea, guilt around enjoying something that hadn’t been planned this way, and the internal question most business owners don’t admit out loud: “Am I allowed to love this if it didn’t start the way I thought it would?”
The turning point came later. Not with a viral moment or financial milestone, but with a physical move. Sync Thrift relocated from a tiny original space into its current location on Main Street, and something clicked. “This is my shop now.” Not because it was perfect but because it finally felt lived‑in. Claimed as her own. Real.
That’s when the business started to feel less like something Carly was maintaining and more like something she was shaping.
If you think Sync Thrift is just a thrift store, you’re missing it. Yes, it’s curated, affordable, and intentionally accessible. But it’s also:
A community living room.
A rotating gallery for over 40 local artists.
A place where small‑town conversations happen organically.
A space designed for connection, not consumption.
Classes and events, like the most recent vision board workshops, were always part of the plan. It just took years of day‑to‑day survival to make room for them. That’s one of the most honest truths Carly shared: “The day‑to‑day of having a business gets so in the way of why you started it.”
How does Carly go about her day as a business owner?
Carly thrives on variation. There’s no rigid routine, just anchors. She starts days with Coffee. Movement. Getting outside. Slow mornings that prioritize being human before being productive. Carly is fiercely passionate about “getting outside first” reminding herself and her customers via social media every day before announcing the store hours.
Some days Carly opens the shop to customers already waiting in the parking lot. Some days she’s juggling donations, conversations, dogs, and complete unpredictability. She’s at the mercy of her customer base and chooses to meet them with authenticity instead of polish. That honesty is part of why people keep stopping by.
I then asked Carly about the hard parts. She says that running a business is isolating. Not because you’re alone but because you’re responsible. You can’t always afford help. You don’t get built‑in coworkers. You carry the weight of decisions that impact real people. And in a thrift model especially, there’s a constant misunderstanding around value: “You got this for free, why does it cost this?” you wouldn't walk into Goodwill and say that. Affordable doesn’t mean effortless. Community‑focused doesn’t mean unsustainable.
On the hard days, someone will walk in and unknowingly offer exactly what’s needed in Carly’s day as a business owner: a story, gratitude, connection. Sometimes it’s watching customers meet each other in the aisles. Sometimes it’s seeing an artist earn meaningful income because their work has a home at Sync Thrift. One artist sold enough earrings during the holidays that it rivaled a part‑time job! That doesn’t happen without this intentional space Carly has curated.
There is a bigger dream at play and the path is clearly forming because of Carly’s leadership.
Sync Thrift isn’t the final form. Carly dreams of “Sane’s Asylum”—a multi‑modal space for healing, art, accessibility, and community. A place with many rooms for thrift, bodywork, artists, yoga, sensory‑inclusive design, and resources that meet the community where they are. A place to be seen and have organic connections.
Everything she’s done, every job, every pivot, every loss (hearing included) has quietly laddered into this vision. She just isn’t rushing it.
If Carly could offer one honest takeaway to other business owners, it would be this:
Choose partners carefully. Separate personal emotion from business decisions as much as possible. Expect to take things personally—and try to take them less so. And remember: we made this all up one day and decided it was a business. Most importantly: you’re allowed to enjoy what you build, even if it wasn’t the original plan.
Synchronicity Thrift exists because Carly stayed.
Through grief. Through uncertainty. Through a version of success that looks quieter than most. And every day, at least one person walks through the door and reminds her why that matters. That’s not accidental. That’s earned. No gatekeeping. Just real stories.
If you are passing through Fairplay Colorado, please take a pit stop at Synchronicity Thrift. I personally could have spent multiple days going through the treasures and hearing the stories that come with them. If you are far away please follow along with Synchronicity Thrift on their instagram. And watch them grow into the unexpected, unplanned, but fully authentic and community based small town hang out that I know Carly will have one day!
Sync Thrift Instagram