It started with People, not Scrubs
I didn’t start in healthcare thinking about scrubs.
I started because I wanted to care for people — to be present in moments that mattered, to contribute to something meaningful, and to show up when people needed it most.
For over ten years, that’s exactly what I did.
The Reality Behind the Scrubs.
I worked 12-hour shifts across British Columbia and Alberta in acute care, psychiatric units, and long-term care. The work demanded everything — your attention, your energy, and your emotional capacity.
And over time, I started noticing something that never really left me alone.
While I was focused on my patients, I was constantly fighting my scrubs.
Scrubs that didn’t move with me. Pockets that weren’t built for what I actually carried. Sizing that changed depending on the batch.
And pricing that didn’t reflect the reality of the people wearing them.
It was constant friction in a job that already asked so much.
When the Work Takes a Toll
But there was a deeper reality to the work, too.
In certain environments, physical aggression wasn’t rare — it was something you learned to navigate regularly. Being hit, grabbed, or put in unsafe situations became part of the job in a way that was never openly talked about, but quietly accepted.
Over time, that takes a toll.
Eventually, I reached a point where I had to step away from clinical work to recover — physically, mentally, and emotionally. What made it harder was navigating that process largely on my own, without clear guidance or meaningful support on how to actually rebuild.
Turning Experience Into Something Better
That experience changed how I saw everything.
Not just the work itself, but the systems around it — and how often the people on the front lines are expected to keep going, no matter what they’ve been through.
It gave me distance. And with that distance came clarity.
I started thinking about all the small, daily frustrations I had ignored for years — the scrubs that didn’t function, the lack of inclusivity, and the sense that the people doing the hardest work were often an afterthought in the products made for them.
And I realized something:
If no one was going to build something better for us, I would.
That’s where Solera started.
Not as a business idea, but as a response to lived experience — both the everyday realities of the job and the moments that force you to stop and reassess everything.
Built With Purpose
I didn’t want to design scrubs that just looked better.
I wanted to design scrubs that worked better.
Every detail comes from real experience:
• Pocket systems built for what you actually carry
• Inclusive sizing from XS–5X at the same price
• Durable, high-performance fabrics that support you through long shifts
Solera isn’t about fashion. It’s about function, fairness, and respect for the people doing the work.
The name Solera means foundation — a steady base that supports everything built above it.
That’s what I set out to create.
Because I know what it feels like to give everything to your work — and not feel supported in return.
And I believe you deserve better.
With you on every shift,
Leah