How Going Viral Almost Broke My Business...

Cow on the Ice is a wellness brand that smells great and feels even better but has more emotional challenges than your average goat yoga retreat. It’s run by one woman (me), several dozen herbs and oils, a couple of miraculously competent employees and a rescue bulldog, crossed with a chocolate cake.

I created it to bring calm, joy, and beauty to the world – and then one day, the internet decided to smash through my shopfront like a rogue elephant on espresso.

This is the story of how going viral almost made me bin the whole thing and become a postwoman in the Outer Hebrides.

So here's what happened...

We launched a modest offer for a free sample of our lovingly handmade skincare product – a soothing little miracle designed to heal your skincare routine (and possibly also your soul).

Then, in what can only be described as a scene from a romcom where things escalate very fast, a lovely website that curates high-quality free stuff 💀 shared our offer. Within two hours, we had thousands of requests. Thousands. More people than live in my town. More than I have envelopes. Or stamps. Or spoons to stir my tea, frankly.

So here’s the sitch. I run a small, independent business – think “kitchen table,” not “global empire” – and while I’d love to post out skincare joy to everyone, I simply couldn’t. If I tried, I’d be shipping these samples until 2026, and that’s assuming no one asks me for anything else ever again.

So, we added an additional hoop and asked (begged) that only truly interested people confirm their request.

Hundreds and hundreds responded…

Anyway. After hand-blending, potting, packing, sealing, sticking, addressing, licking (OK not licking), and marching everything to our local post office, we were told:"Second class stamp will do nicely, love."

Reader, it did not!!

Our SAMPLEGEDDON victims soon started reporting that they’d received a “There’s a fee to pay before we’ll give you your mail” notice instead of our actual samples. For the grand sum of £1.50, Royal Mail appears to have decided that our innocent little envelope is in fact a threat to the structural integrity of the system. Or perhaps just too plump. Who knows.

And while one absolute saint of a human just paid the ransom fee and moved on (we saw you, you glorious legend), this was absolutely not what we had in mind.

On the plus side.

I exchanged an indecent number of midnight emails with absolute strangers who turned out to be kind, funny, and frankly better company than most dating apps. The mailing list grew, the brand got a little moment in the sun, and somewhere amid the chaos, I think we made a few people smile.

On the not-so-plus side.

My mum was seriously ill and in hospital at the time, so I was doing hospital visits by day and managing SAMPLEGEDDON by night like some kind of unhinged apothecary-owl hybrid.

Financially, this little adventure came perilously close to sinking the whole ship (we're talking: cost of the samples, shipping, then re-shipping when Royal Mail decided to play sample pirates). And the brand? At risk too.

That’s why I tried to personally reply to as many messages as I humanly could – because I truly felt these people deserved more than a generic “Your request is important to us, please hold while we implode.”

So yes. Be careful what you wish for – especially if what you're wishing for involves going viral. Sometimes, the internet gives you exposure. Other times, it just exposes your emotional plumbing and stamps budget.

With love,

Eva xFounder, Lady Boss and Head Dreamer at Cow on the Ice.

So if you’re at the beginning of your journey, or in the middle of one that feels like a storm, here’s what I want you to know:

• You don’t need the perfect plan. You need a little bravery, a bit of resourcefulness, and a willingness to go where your customers are.

• You don’t need a huge team. You need clarity, a sense of purpose, and maybe a dog or two.

• You don’t need glossy branding to start. You need something real. Something useful. Something honest.

And maybe… a slightly unreasonable belief that it will all work out in the end.