Hi, I’m Lauren L’Heureux, founder of Maison La.Rue, a collection of brands dedicated to the intersection of creativity, clarity, and legacy. I write this and share my story with the hope of inspiring women to believe that despite the adversity or trauma we face, we can still discover—and boldly live—our purpose.
La.Rue, and later Maison La.Rue, were not born of a single moment of inspiration. They emerged slowly, over years, from a period of my life defined by profound transformation. The seams of that journey were bound by an amalgamation of moments, emotions, and grief I sustained over a fourteen-month period of my life. At eighteen, while studying English
Literature and creative writing on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, my world shifted irrevocably. On March 14, 2016, I lost my older brother and only sibling, Joshua, in a motorcycle accident. Eight months later, I was the victim of an assault crime that led to an emotionally grueling trial. And just over a year after losing my brother, my dad attempted to end his life—each of us overwhelmed by a grief that felt impossible to hold.
Still, grief has a way of lingering quietly—the world does not pause for our pain, and so I continued. Throughout the rest of my college years, I sank quietly into the undercurrent of grief. I filled every space with distraction because slowing down meant feeling. But after graduation, life intervened: I moved home to Florida for knee surgery—after years as a competitive dancer—and for the first time in four years, time became still enough for grief to find me. In that pause, I came face-to-face with a choice: fight or flight. After years defined by fear, resentment,
and anger, I chose to fight. More than that, I chose to live—something I know my brother would have wanted for me.
When Covid arrived and the world went quiet, I poured every ounce of time, energy, and willingness into healing. Over the course of six months, supported by therapy, coaching, and deep inner work, I confronted the hardest parts of my story. Halfway through that journey, I felt a pull to share—not just the pain, but the possibility. In October 2020, I launched La.Rue (the American spelling of my last name, L’Heureux—meaning “the happy one” in French). It began as a blog, a place to chronicle my healing, but quickly grew into a personal brand. Over the following months, I wrote consistently, launched an intentional living course, and debuted my podcast, Do the Damn Thing—a space to tell my story and, unknowingly, usher in the earliest days of my entrepreneurial path.
It was a return not just to a place, but to a version of myself ready to create from clarity rather than survival. In March 2022, I launched the La.Rue Creative Studio. What began as a boutique branding and website studio soon revealed itself to be something much larger—a home for the creative, strategic, and narrative work I had always been called to do.
As clients arrived and the work deepened, LCS evolved rapidly into a multi-hyphenate, full-service creative agency. The more stories I told, the more I understood the kind of brands I wanted to build: intentional, emotionally resonant, and rooted in a level of clarity and sophistication that felt rare in a world enamored with consumerism rather than meaning. Over the years that followed, our work expanded in depth, caliber, and reach—partnering with high-achieving, female-founded businesses to build storied identities grounded in strategy, emotional intelligence, and quiet luxury.
What began as a single doorway has now grown into a collection of brands—Maison La.Rue—that reflects not only my work, but the philosophy and legacy I hope to leave behind.
La.Rue may have been born from healing, but it has become something far more expansive: a testament to what becomes possible when women choose intention over expectation, story over silence, and the courage to build a life—and a legacy—entirely their own.
La.Rue, and later Maison La.Rue, were not born of a single moment of inspiration. They emerged slowly, over years, from a period of my life defined by profound transformation. The seams of that journey were bound by an amalgamation of moments, emotions, and grief I sustained over a fourteen-month period of my life. At eighteen, while studying English Literature and creative writing on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, my world shifted irrevocably. On March 14, 2016, I lost my older brother and only sibling, Joshua, in a motorcycle accident. Eight months later, I was the victim of an assault crime that led to an emotionally grueling trial. And just over a year after losing my brother, my dad attempted to end his life—each of us overwhelmed by a grief that felt impossible to hold.
Still, grief has a way of lingering quietly—the world does not pause for our pain, and so I continued. Throughout the rest of my college years, I sank quietly into the undercurrent of grief. I filled every space with distraction because slowing down meant feeling. But after graduation, life intervened: I moved home to Florida for knee surgery—after years as a competitive dancer—and for the first time in four years, time became still enough for grief to find me. In that pause, I came face-to-face with a choice: fight or flight. After years defined by fear, resentment, and anger, I chose to fight. More than that, I chose to live—something I know my brother would have wanted for me.
When Covid arrived and the world went quiet, I poured every ounce of time, energy, and willingness into healing. Over the course of six months, supported by therapy, coaching, and deep inner work, I confronted the hardest parts of my story. Halfway through that journey, I felt a pull to share—not just the pain, but the possibility. In October 2020, I launched La.Rue (the American spelling of my last name, L’Heureux—meaning “the happy one” in French). It began as a blog, a place to chronicle my healing, but quickly grew into a personal brand. Over the following months, I wrote consistently, launched an intentional living course, and debuted my podcast, Do the Damn Thing—a space to tell my story and, unknowingly, usher in the earliest days of my entrepreneurial path.