The Disneyland of Quilting: Why Every Company Should Build a Town

In a world where brands are fighting for attention online, it’s the ones who dare to build towns and experiences that will stand the test of time.

In 2018, Forbes called us the "Disneyland of Quilting": a quilting Mecca that draws hundreds of thousands of quilters a year to Hamilton, Missouri — population 1,500, an hour north of Kansas City, in the middle of a cornfield, in the middle of nowhere. 

Today, the town boasts over 16 quilt shops, a few restaurants, a retreat center, a theater, and sewing studios, all catering to these hundreds of thousands of quilters who visit every year. But in 2008, we had none of that. Hamilton was a quiet, fading town. Fast forward 15 years, and we’ve built something that reflects the heart and soul of our company, the Missouri Star Quilt Company. And honestly, it’s been one of the most impactful investments we’ve ever made.

Now, I think every company should do this. Every company should build a town.

I know what you're thinking: "Building a town sounds” expensive / hard / intimidating / distracting, and you're not wrong. I can tell you exactly how much a sidewalk costs, and I’ve learned more than I care to about streetlights and infrastructure. In a small rural town like Hamilton, they don’t have the resources to help much — we paid for most of it ourselves.

But here’s the thing: after 15 years, the financed capital investments we’ve made in Hamilton are a fraction of our paid media spend every month. And the exposure we've gained? Priceless. Our little quilting town has generated over a billion media impressions. We've been featured on the front page of the Wall Street Journal, NBC Nightly News, CBS Sunday Morning, Forbes, NPR — you name it, they’ve covered us. And the truth is, I knew they would.

When we were just starting out, I called my friend Susie, who does PR for big political campaigns. I told her, "Susie, I have a quilt company, but nobody cares about a quilt company. How do I tell our story in a way that matters?" I explained that we were teaching quilting on YouTube, that my mom was a YouTube star, that our whole family worked together, and that we’d started this business to pull ourselves out of bankruptcy during the 2008 recession. Susie listened patiently, and then, with absolute confidence, she said, “It’s the town. That’s the story.”

She was right.

As we built the town, news outlets couldn't get enough. Hamilton was practically a ghost town in 2008 — the old photos on google streetview tell the story. But today, it's a bustling hub, filled with quilters and visitors from all over the world. Every parking spot on Main Street is full, and the shops are alive with activity. It’s what every small, struggling rural community dreams of becoming, and somehow, we made it happen.

So why does this matter to Missouri Star Quilt Company? For one, the exposure has been incredible. You can't buy this kind of publicity — not even if you wanted to. Those billion impressions have put us in front of a global audience, and yes, the media hugs have crashed our website more than a few times. But the attention has driven growth, and even more importantly, it’s given us real content to share and tell our story with to our customers and followers..

You hear it all the time: “Share your story. Post content.” But for most companies, that means announcing yet another sale or pushing more product. For us, it's different. We get to say, "Hey, we’re transforming an old building downtown. What do you think we should do with it? Here’s how we’re renovating. Here’s what’s going inside. Oh, and by the way, look at this new fabric line we’ve just launched." Our story is alive because our town is alive.

But it’s more than just content. Building this town forced us to bring our brand to life — physically. A lot of online companies never have to think about what their brand looks like in 3D. We did. From signage to storefronts, we had to make Missouri Star Quilt Company tangible, and that exercise changed how we saw our brand, online as well as in store.

Fabric Market with new signage. Sarah and Brenda right before the opening

One of my favorite examples is when we bought the old building next to the Missouri Farmers Association. My sister and I were brainstorming what to do with it, and we came up with the idea of a fabric store that felt like an old-fashioned deli. Fabric by the pound, sold behind a counter, complete with a big butcher-shop-style diagram — but instead of cuts of meat, it was quilting-themed. And in the back? A soda shop named after my sister’s daughter, Ella Jane. We shared the ideas with our customers, showed the progress in photos and videos all along the way. By the time we opened, our customers were as excited as we were because we’d taken them along for the ride. And trust me, seeing it online doesn’t do it justice. You have to come to Hamilton to really feel it.

Beyond the publicity and content, building a town plants a flag in the ground. It creates a gathering place for our community. Our customers don't just come to buy fabric — they come to belong. I’m thinking of one customer, Peggy, who said, “At home, I’m just a hoarder of fabric, but here, I’m a legend.” That’s the magic of Quilt Town USA. No one wants to be hoarders, they all want to be seen as legends, communities give you that identity.

So why should every company build a town? Because it’s a story worth telling. It’s a way to create a real-world experience that customers will travel miles for. Think about it: there should be a “Baby Capital of the World” where expecting parents go to shop, test strollers, and learn about baby products. There should be a “Cheese Capital of the World” (well, maybe just of Wisconsin) with shops dedicated to blue cheese, Gouda, Brie, and every other kind imaginable. There should be a “Rally Car Town” where every bachelor party ever shows up to race rally cars on all seven tracks and try to drive a car in a loop or something. Plant a flag, give an identity, gather a community.

Companies like Magnolia in Waco, Texas, have touched on it. Land's End in Freeport, Maine, has an experience. And I think more should follow. Why doesn't Nintendo have a town? Or Facebook? Microsoft or Tesla? In a world where brands are fighting for attention online, it’s the ones who dare to build towns and experiences that will stand the test of time. 

The question isn’t why more companies should do this — it’s why aren’t they already?