We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Ginger Leigh. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Ginger below.
Alright, Ginger thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. Earning a full time living from one’s creative career can be incredibly difficult. Have you been able to do so and if so, can you share some of the key parts of your journey and any important advice or lessons that might help creatives who haven’t been able to yet?
Yes—but not in the way most people imagine.
It was never one clean lane, one title, or one predictable paycheck. It was a series of creative lives that I learned how to weave together into one.
From the moment I graduated high school, I’ve paid my own way. Early on, that meant working on renovations, taking on whatever jobs I could find, and putting myself through the University of Texas while beginning my career as an original musician. I was a full-time student, a full-time worker, and already deep in the mindset of, “If this isn’t a traditional path, then I have to build something that works.”
There were so many “oh sh*t” moments in those years.
I was getting by week to week, sometimes taking short-term loans from UT just to stay afloat. I had a Texaco card and would buy eggs and rice at the gas station—and yes, I absolutely crossed MLK more than once to grab salsa from the Taco Cabana salsa bar. You do what you have to do.
But I never stopped.
Even when the money wasn’t there, I kept playing, kept learning, kept saying yes to the next step—until eventually I moved from coffee shops into real venues and beyond.
And I didn’t do it alone.
Friends and fans showed up for me in ways I’ll never forget. They helped me through financial lulls, shared airline miles so I could tour, stepped in when my car broke down. There were moments where community carried me when I couldn’t quite carry myself.
As my career evolved, especially during my time with The Ginger & Sarah Band, I had one of those pivotal moments where things shifted. We made the decision to remain independent at a time when the music industry was in flux, and instead of waiting for a label, we built a sponsorship model. With the help of friends in marketing, we secured support from Advance Micro Devices, which allowed us to tour, perform at major events like the Oprah Winfrey Oxygen Media launch, and record our album Vera Takes the Cake—which we’ve now released on streaming platforms 26 years later.
That was the moment I realized:
👉 We didn’t have to wait for permission. We could build our own path.
That mindset carried into everything else—founding Love. Austin, Texas, producing large-scale events, stepping into interior design and co-founding Jane Reece Interiors, and eventually launching my own firm, Gin & Juice Home.
Today, I’ve built a life where music, design, and storytelling all coexist.
If I could have sped anything up, it would have been learning earlier that being creative doesn’t mean being financially disorganized or undervaluing your work. But I also know I couldn’t have skipped the part where I had to figure it out.
Because that’s where the resilience came from.


Ginger, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?
I’ve lived my life as a multi-creative and a multi-preneur, long before those became popular terms.
At my core, I’m a musician and storyteller. That’s always been the thread. But over time, I realized creativity doesn’t belong to one medium—it shows up wherever you’re willing to use it.
That’s what led me into interior design, event production, branding, and media.
Today, through Gin & Juice Home, I design full-scale interiors and renovations. But what I really do is help people create spaces that feel like them—spaces that are not only beautiful, but intentional, functional, and aligned with how they want to live.
And I approach design the same way I approach music:
👉 It’s about feeling first, then structure.
At the same time, I continue to perform, write, and produce music, and I host On the Rogue, where I interview musicians and creatives across Texas. That work keeps me connected to story, to people, and to the deeper “why” behind creating anything at all.
What sets me apart isn’t just what I do—it’s how I’ve had to do it.
What I do differently than most people is that I lead with resourcefulness.
And I want to be clear—resourcefulness is not the same as being opportunistic. There’s integrity in it.
When I’m faced with a challenge, I don’t immediately think about what I lack. I think about what I already have access to—who I know, where I can go, who can help me understand what I don’t yet know.
Because the truth is, we’re rarely as alone as we think we are. But tapping into that requires courage.
First, the courage to ask.
And then—the courage to receive.
I’ve built my life on that.
What I’m most proud of isn’t any one project—it’s the fact that I’ve built a life where I still get to create and in many forms.
And if there’s one thing I want people to know, it’s this:
You don’t have to choose just one version of yourself.
But you do have to learn how to support all the versions you choose to be.


Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?
There wasn’t one defining moment. It was a pattern.
Resilience, for me, looked like showing up over and over again—even when things didn’t make sense yet.
It looked like saying yes to the next opportunity, even when I didn’t know how I was going to pay for it. It looked like figuring out how to keep moving forward, even when I was exhausted, uncertain, or broke.
There’s a phrase a friend told me in college that has never left me:
“The money is there—you just have to go find it.”
At the time, I thought that meant hustle harder. And it did, in the beginning. There were years of “hustle, hustle, hustle.”
But over time, resilience became something deeper.
It became about knowing when to push—and when to pause.
Who to hold close—and who to let go.
And how to keep believing in what I had to offer, even when it wasn’t immediately reflected back to me.
Resilience isn’t glamorous. It’s repetitive.
It’s choosing, over and over again, to stay in the game.


What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?
I had to unlearn the idea that struggle equals worth.
For a long time, I believed that if I wasn’t working constantly or pushing myself to exhaustion, then I must not be doing enough.
That mindset will get you moving—but it won’t sustain you.
Over time, through building businesses, collaborating with people, and simply living through enough cycles, I realized something:
You don’t build a life by burning yourself out. You build it by understanding your value—and protecting it.
That shift changed everything.
It changed how I price my work.
It changed who I work with.
It changed how I spend my time.
Now, my philosophy is simple:
Be tenacious.
Choose your people wisely.
And believe in what you bring to the table.
And lastly, be grateful and be aware of those around you who continue to support you, challenge you. Even those who make you angry or sad play a role. We have to remember to thank all of the people or the situations that build our tenacity and stay strong under the weight of a sometimes otherwise heavy world. And when you find yourself full of gratitude, you also fine a love of life. Take every moment as a reason to shine and share with the world the best parts of you are.
Contact Info:
- Website: http://www.thegingerleigh.com
- Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/thegingerleigh
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thegingerleighatx
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/gingerleigh/
- Youtube: http://www.youtube.com/gleigh
- Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/gingerleighmusic












Image Credits
Candice Ghai, Stan Martin

