Our story

I was raw by June. Every single summer.

lush (adj.) — abundant, soft, sun-warm, generous.  forms (n.) — bodies. Yours included, exactly as it is right now.

Hi. I'm [Founder name — Jordan to set]. I started Lushforms because I was tired.

Not tired of my body. Tired of the whole routine my body needed just to leave the house in summer.

You know the one. By noon at any summer thing, my inner thighs were red, stinging, and raw. I'd start walking a little funny so nobody could tell. I planned my whole day around it. Which dress. How far I'd have to walk. How many hours until I could sit down.

My thighs touch. They always have. And every June, they let me know.

I tried everything. It all let me down.

I had a whole drawer of slip shorts I resented. I bought the biggest size and hoped. Within an hour they crept up my legs and left the exact spot bare. So I'd tug them down in bathrooms all day. And still get burned.

I tried thigh bands. They rolled down and rubbed me raw — the very thing they promised to stop.

I tried shapewear. It stayed put, sure. By squeezing me like a sausage. In a heat wave. No thanks.

I tried the balm. It works — until you sweat it off. So it lived in my purse, and I did the bathroom re-swipe mid-party, hoping nobody saw me duck in for the third time.

That was my summer. A quiet little logistics operation, just to wear a dress.

Here's the thing nobody told me.

For years, everyone had the same answer: just lose weight.

So I did the diets. And guess what? Thinner me still chafed.

Because chub rub was never about my size. It's friction. Heat and sweat, right where your thighs meet. That's the whole recipe. Runners with thigh gaps get it too.

My body was never the problem. The clothes were.

It took me years to really believe that. Once I did, I stopped trying to shrink myself. And I got mad at the right thing — a fix that keeps sliding out of place.

So I built the thing that didn't exist.

I wanted a barrier that couldn't move. And I wanted it to be cute — not underwear I hide, but the actual outfit.

So I made a skort. The skirt everyone sees, with a built-in short that covers the whole rub zone and stays exactly where you put it. No riding up. No rolling down. No squeeze.

It took a lot of tries. I made prototype after prototype. I wore them on hot bus rides, through errands and weddings and one very sweaty Canada Day. Each version, I asked the same question: did it move?

When the answer was finally “it never moved,” I knew it was ready.

Why “Lushforms”?

I picked the name on purpose.

That's the whole idea. Get dressed and go. Your thighs are handled.

That's it. No hype. Just the thing I wish I'd had at 16.

You deserve to live comfortably in the body you have right now. Come get dressed and go.