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    November 14, 2008

    Harry Allen & Associates

    Harry Allen opened his New York studio 15 years ago, and has created a solid business encompassing both product and interior design. He is best known for designing the Moss interior in SoHo and the Reality line of products, including his piggy bank which is cast from an actual pig. Read on for his story and wisdom on starting a creative business. www.harryallendesign.com



    What do you think is the biggest stumbling block when starting a business as a designer?

    I think the whole designer/maker thing is a bit of a trap. Where you start a studio, you buy a bandsaw, and you start making things out of wood and then you're selling those things. The problem that I've always seen with that is, first of all, you'll make the same thing over and over again. Which is fine, some people like that, it's admirable, and there's part of me that wants to do that. But I also think it's very limiting and you can get sort of stuck in a rut and it's hard to get out of it. You tend to not actually charge for your time; you're charging for the piece. You figure it out and you're making $15/hr, you might as well be a janitor. To avoid that trap, I always had other people make things, and I always paid them, and added whatever profit I wanted to make to that, and then try to sell it to the stores.

    Also, in the beginning, I was doing things that when I look at them now are totally impractical. I'm glad I did those things, but now I know why I didn't sell those things. There's always that fine line between doing things that are useful and can fit into people's lives, and doing things that are artistic. Though there is now room to be that art/designer, thanks to Moss and Wallpaper. You can sort of be that person who sells $50,000 one-off tables. But it's about as predictable a road to success as being an artist, which is a really hard thing to do. If you want to make one thing, if you want to sit in the studio and make something that's a real personal expression, and it's going to be cast in diamond, and it's going to cost $8 million, yeah, that's a business plan. That's one way to go. But you sort of have to think about who it's going to.



    As a designer, I feel like in the beginning I made things harder than they needed to be. People like Target, they really just want a pillow with a little chick on it. In a way, you have to figure out how to give them that pillow with a chick on it, with an edge. Or, it needs to be YOUR pillow with a chick on it. Or you don't give them the pillow with a chick on it, you give them something else, but you give them something else that that person can relate to. And you think about who's going to be buying it.

    When I started designing, it was really hard for me to get out of my own life. Really, people want a lamp with a base that sits on a table next to a sofa that fits into the format of their life. You can break that format, and you're going to find a few people that want a broken format, that are attracted to that, or you can stick in the format, and you can reach that much of the population. There are a lot of really interesting things to do right in the format. You don't always have to break all the rules.

    I feel like the core point there is to really think about who you're selling to. Especially if you're a designer/maker, you can get caught up in "I'm doing this because I feel a need to create this thing." But if you want to step it up into a business, then it's not centrally important that you feel a need to make these things. It's more important who is going to consume them.

    Exactly. Really, the business plan is to say, "OK, what's missing in the world? I'm going to make that thing!" And maybe it's, oh, the world needs Calvin Klein underwear. You're satisfying this need for something that was not there. But the problem with that is it's not always fun. I can't imagine that underwear was hugely rewarding for Calvin, except for the fact that it made him billions of dollars! But that's why he kept doing the collection, to feel creatively rewarded. I think you've gotta do a little bit of everything.

    What I love about my Reality line is that it actually does both things. A lot of people want it, and I enjoy it. That's the sweet spot. That's where you want to be. But it's hard to get there.

    You managed to turn your school thesis project into a business. Could you tell us a little about that transition?

    My design degree is my grad degree. My undergraduate degree was in political science. I did the whole "academic" thing and I got that out of my system, basically because my parents highly recommended that I do that. So I did it. I'm not bad at that stuff; I graduated cum laude and I can read and I can write and analyze things. I'm very happy that I have that degree. But then I moved back to the city and started realizing that everything that I enjoyed doing was creative, was what I had done in high school. You don't change. You don't just go off and study political science and then decide to be a political scientist. It was innate in me that I was going to be creative.

    So I went and took some classes, and ended up at Pratt. But then I was 27, so when I got out of school, I was like, "I've gotta figure this thing out." I went to work at a cosmetics firm called Prescriptives, which is a very high-design branch of Estee Lauder. They hired me in store design. I worked there for a couple of years. One of the guys who I worked with also did furniture, and had shown in the furniture fair for a couple of years. I looked at him, and I thought, "God, that's what I want to do." I quit my job, and I took some freelance work, but basically I took the whole spring off and I took my thesis and I turned it into real product. I had it made, etc. My grandmother had died and she left me a little bit of cash, so I took that money and I funneled it starting a little furniture business.

    At the time, I had studied under the big shadow of Philippe Starck. He was THE design star at the moment. Everything was shaped like a horn. Prescriptives was a totally different influence - they were very modern, everything was Jacobsen chairs. My furniture was a reaction to what was going on at the time, all the trendy Philippe Starck stuff.

    I had some luck with it. I did that for a couple of years and sold quite a bit of it. But then a got a little bored, actually. Bored, and it was so scary. Because you're making things that cost $3,000, and I'd have to lay out the money, and then it breaks or something... It scared the hell out of me. I got through a couple years of it. Plus I just kept making the same thing over and over again. Even though it was this really flexible system, and you could do a lot of things with it, I just realized I was going to be doing the same thing over and over again. So I stopped doing it. And then I designed another line of furniture, I did some lighting, I started adding to it, and then some of the interior work kicked in. That was when Murray found me and I did Moss.



    What's really cool about your work is that you do everything from spaces down to tiny objects. Could you talk a little bit about getting into interiors?

    Prescriptives was what got me into interiors. The art director there hired me to be in the interior design department, even though I was an industrial designer. And that was pretty visionary, actually. The United States is all about pigeon-holing people. It's like, if you've designed one thing, then they'll come back to you and you'll design the same thing over and over again. It's very hard to do different things. So here's this guy hiring me to do interiors. He had the ability to see that someone could do other things. That was where I got the experience. And then when I broke out on my own, a second visionary person came along, and that was Murray Moss.

    He saw my furniture, and asked me to design a store for him. That was a nice little job, at the time, and it's turned into much more because the store has gotten so famous. At the time it was a little job down in SoHo!

    I realized that interiors was a potential source of income and I couldn't ignore it, even though I really wanted to be doing the furniture and lighting and product design. That was really where my heart was. And now, my business is about 50/50, if you can believe it, interiors/product design. It's split right down the middle, and I like both equally.

    There are a lot of things about interiors that are different. You need more people. It was really difficult when I was doing it by myself. Now I have a very competent staff. There are so many more details. You can really get your head around a product. You know all the details really intimately and you can go deeper and deeper and deeper into the details, whereas in interiors you can just never get that deep into everything. Also, if you have that product design experience it's like, I'm used to telling them where the screw goes, you know? So then you're like spending all your time worrying about where the screws are going, when what you really want to be doing is defining the big picture. It's a very different game.

    But doing one informs the other. I love having both of them. I do believe that all designers should have the opportunity, or, that you become a better designer if you have the opportunity, to cross fields. It's good for your head. I learn one thing one place and bring it to something else and it's more expansive, in a way. It's all sort of the same thing, you know? And now I'm doing a whole bunch of graphics, too, which is a whole other thing. But I've really consciously... I'm just doing that graphic project on my own, because no one's going to hire me to do it until they see what I do. If you want to go somewhere, I always say this to people, it's like, I would just tell people, "I'm a furniture designer." And then all of a sudden you become a furniture designer.



    So that was the story of how you went from furniture to "bigger" things. How did you go from furniture to "smaller" things, like the Reality line that you're so well known for?

    It's hard doing product design, getting people to believe in you enough to do a piece of injection-molded plastic for them. It's very difficult to build enough confidence in people. But I managed to do all that; I had a few people who believed in me a lot and allowed me to do all that stuff.

    A couple years a go, I looked at my roster of clients: Target, Estee Lauder, Corian, which is DuPont, and there might have been another one in there... They were these big corporate clients. Which is great. That's what you aspire to. But then you get there, and you realize that all you're doing is sitting in these big meetings and trying to satisfy a team of eighteen people. I do love that work; I love coming out of a meeting, listening to all these different things and you find the one sweet spot where everyone's happy with it. That's really exciting, it's really fun, it's a very satisfying experience. But it's also very different than just going, "Eh, I want to cast a pig today."

    It's a very different thing. What makes one fun makes the other one fun too. It makes the other one the opposite, the antithesis of it. While on one side, there's a brand you've got to work within, or you're helping to shape a brand, or solve a problem, or whatever it is you're doing for your corporate client, the other side is like, "What do I want to do today?"

    I really missed that. I thought, "I want to give that manufacturing thing another go." And I had the idea for the Reality stuff. I did the hands, the candlesticks, and the pig first. Honestly, what I liked about them was that they were small goods. And the reason that I thought I could give a go at the manufacturing business again was because they were these small goods. That was why I got out of manufacturing the furniture. When I say "manufacturing," it was like, I had a wood guy, I had a metal guy, I had a basement. I wasn't like a factory or anything. This time it was, I had a guy who could cast the resin and I had a basement. It was no different. But you can fit a whole lot more pigs in a basement than tables. I knew that it was a different formula, and I had a feeling that I could make it work.



    The piggy bank kind of started it. I was like, "This is a great idea to do the cast piggy bank from a real pig!" And I wanted to get it out there before anyone else did. Sometimes you get that frantic feeling like you have this good idea and you've gotta gotta get it out. I showed it to Mr. Alessi, I showed it to the guy who owns Magis, Mr. Perazza, I showed it to Umbra, I showed it to a bunch of people and everyone rejected it. They were like, "No, you know, we're not doing pigs this year." But I knew it was a good idea, so that was what prompted me to just make it, get it out there, and start selling it. At that point in my career, I'd been designing store interiors for years. So that all of a sudden when I had goods to sell again, it wasn't like when I was doing the furniture, which was just like a shot in the dark. I knew all these people, and they were really great, they bought into it.

    I had it for about a year, maybe a little bit more, making them and selling them. And then I showed with an old friend at the furniture fair, Ross Menuez. He's a great designer and he has this company called Salvor. He was doing all these animal prints, and we sort of saw a pig, an owl, let's put them together, so we did. We showed together. And then it turned out that his business partner in Salvor ended up picking up the production of the Reality line, and that whole company became Areaware. Which is the company that makes and sells them now. They have great distribution, and sales have done very very well all over the place.

    I liked what you said about your initial furniture line being a reaction to the Philippe Starck style, and then the Reality line being a reaction to what you were doing in the corporate world. Is that a big part of your design philosophy?

    I never really thought about it like that before.

    Do you have a design philosophy that you apply?

    I like to think that I'm broader than one philosophy. I like to think that I'm not the person who takes the same aesthetic and sort of stamps it on a bunch of things. My work is appropriate to what I'm doing, and I have enough stuff going on that I can draw from a variety of places. I'm interested in your question about the reaction, though. It's very interesting. I don't know, I think I could probably write a whole dissertation on it!

    As a student, that's what everyone does. You're in this rebellious period and you see what's going on out there and you're like, I'm not gonna do that! Or, I'm gonna do something DIFFERENT, I'm gonna make my name, or whatever. So I think that's kind of a student thing. And then, maybe I just haven't grown up! [Laughs.] Really, though, life is a series of actions and reactions, so I have a feeling that it's more that than it is any philosophy. I'd like to build it into a whole thesis, though!

    What advice do you have for young designers?

    When you're young, everything seems very very precious. You have an idea and it's the most precious thing in the world. Everyone always wants to know how to protect it. And then as you get older, you realize people will not steal an idea unless it's already making someone money. You only steal an idea that's valuable. Just an idea is not valuable, unless it's been tested. That's what I've experienced, anyway.

    What you realize is, the hardest part is making it. That's where the commitment comes. I always liken it to the birth process. Conception is really easy, but it's the labor, and then the birth, and then the nurturing, that's the hard part. The idea part is great, but its worthless unless you make it into something and you demonstrate it to people.



    I think that's a big part of what sets apart people who actually make a career for themselves, is that follow-through. I think that's really what separates people. Exactly what you just said - it's easy to have a prototype, but to have something that can wholesale is much, much more work.

    Yeah, price structure, or whatever. And I used to think that was like magic, that the business people stepped in and they figured it out. But then you realize that many of these small companies are figuring it out the same way you would. You sort of think that "business" is "objective." Like it's this world in which you deal with people in a "business" sense. And then you realize that the people who you do the most work for are people who you get along with. They're people who you would have played around in the schoolyard with, you know? There's not some magic, objective playing field. It's very subjective. And you really only want to work with the people that you get along with and have a like mind with, and that's how good things happen. All those myths just get broken down over time.

    One of my questions was how you got clients when you were just starting out, and I think you already sort of answered it in that they were people who you already knew, which I think ties into what you just said about working with people who you're friends with.

    What's so weird is that all these people who I was starting out with, we were all in the design trenches at Prescriptives or wherever, the first couple of jobs that I had... I wish I actually had had more of that. I wish I had worked at about five companies before I broke out on my own, because all of those people that I worked with have gone off and become creative directors and now they can give me work. Or they tell two friends who tell two friends. It's amazing how that network grows and changes and morphs into people who are actually of influence and can actually make decisions and can actually sign a check. It's like, Wow! How'd that happen?

    Once again, they were just people that you were going out to drinks with after work, or whatever it was. It's also weird what comes around. You'll be focused really hard on trying to go after some job, and then the next day someone from your past calls and he's like, "Oh, hey, how are you, my sister Bonnie's starting a blah blah blah," and then that ends up being your next job. It wasn't what you were focusing on it all, it's some curveball. I always say to the guys in the back, you won't even believe how work gets generated in here. But it's about having those sorts of ties, those long tentacles, the deep roots.