Rob Bowman and Matt Burns are two supremely creative individuals who are building a salsa company in addition to their respective acting and music careers. Why salsa? Why not? With a focus on using healthy, high-quality ingredients as well as giving back to the community that inspires them, this is a brand that everyone can get behind and support. (If only for the hedonistic reason that it tastes incredible.) www.bksalsa.com



You've recently been speaking to the buyers of certain large supermarket chain about carrying your salsa. How did that come about?

Matt: This girl moved into our building.

No. Really? What!

Rob: We are not even kidding. It's a great story. Matt and I have been creating this company for the past 6 months. About 2 months ago, these girls moved in to the second floor of our building. We were constantly hanging out with them, and partying with them, because this entire building is a community. Everyone is always hanging out, people are always throwing shows downstairs, people are always drinking together on the weekends. A month or so ago, we finally started talking about what we do for a living. And she said, "Oh, well I'm a buyer for this company." And I said, "What?! Guess what I do!"

Matt: So that's been really cool, because they've been so supportive. They know what the product is and how it can be sold and what its potential is. They've been able to give us a better idea of how to approach the market we're going into. They've also given us pointers about how to approach our packaging, which is so important. We originally wanted a very short, wide jar, but we can't have shelf space for that. Because we have five salsas that have to be lined up next to each other.

So let's go through your five salsas, which are named for the boroughs of NYC.

Matt: Manhattan is the most traditional of our salsas. Manhattan is really the salsa that I would expect to go to Mexico City and find from the street cart. And Staten Island is the green. It's a tomatillo-based salsa, it's made with these tiny fresh tomatillos, which are just hard green tomatoes.

Rob: It's very limey. Very American flavored, too. One of the things we're going after is, every single other salsa company goes for the Mexican style of flavor, branding, and everything else. And we're trying to go the complete opposite direction. We're trying to say, "Listen, we understand the influence, but we are an American salsa." Staten Island... The only other thing that can be said for it is its our salsa verde, you know, the green.

Matt: Really wild, new flavors that we're introducing into the salsa market.



Rob: What you'll move on to... This is Queens. Everyone has their own personal favorite; Queens has always had a key to my heart. This is the tropical.

Matt: I just love the smoothness of it. I like the textures that we've been able to find.

Rob: A concept that we're trying to bring to the forefront is that the latin meaning of salsa is simply "sauce." That's what it is, it's sauce. It's not just for chips. The fact is that if you try, what you're about to try right here which is the Bronx, if you try that on a burger or on a hot dog, it is one of the absolute most delicious things you'll have.

Matt: Exactly. They also make really good marinades. We want to create a product that can be used for everything. You can add rice to one of these salsas, and another can of tomatoes, and turn it into something different. It's a product that is so multi-faceted. It's just a flavor-maker.

Rob: So this is the Bronx. This is our eggplant curry salsa.

Matt: All of the peppers in this one are roasted over a flame, to make them black, and we keep the charred skins on. It basically is a bangbarta curry. But now it's cold, and it has a lot of citrus so it tastes like salsa. But you can heat it up, and you can add it to a burger or to rice or to quinoa or to anything else. You can have it as a main dish just by adding some more of your own sauteed vegetables and water and turning it into a sauce.

Rob: Let's go ahead and let you guys try Brooklyn. Here's the thing with Brooklyn, which I absolutely love. It's our hottest salsa. But you can taste it, and then the spice sneaks up on you. Give it a solid five seconds.

Matt: It's really an interesting way to spice a salsa, because you get the flavor and then the heat is a background to it. It's a salsa for spicy food lovers. It's a delicate spicy flavor, but it's also very intense.

Alright, that was amazing. While we continue to stuff our faces, onto the next question... How have you gotten your company into the press?

Rob: Basically I am our own PR department. I'm constantly reaching out to different publications. BushwickBK.com is a local website here, and contacting them was our first step. We wanted to see if we could get on there and spread the word. We did end up getting a write-up there, and after that, we had a girl come to us and ask if she could write about us in the NY Press.

Matt: And already we'd gotten some coverage on Yelp from when we were doing a month of taco delivery in the neighborhood, when we were just starting out.

Rob: Our first marketing idea was, hell, let's spread the word by delivering tacos for a few weeks. So we actually, for a solid 2-3 weeks, had this taco delivery service. It was a standard vegan taco that we made. And the concept was, you chose what salsa you wanted on it.



Why didn't you deliver to us? We didn't know there were tacos going around!

Matt: We flyered anywhere we could in our neighborhood, to get the word out. But then we couldn't really meet the demand.

Rob: And I think that speaks for itself. We have seen something that a lot of companies in the startup phase don't have, which is a ton of demand.

Matt: Yeah. We run out of the salsa immediately. We just made that whole refrigerator-full of salsa, and it will definitely be gone by the end of the week.

What's your next step?

Rob: That's a great question, because there are so many different phases. The next step is finding investment.

Matt: Which is actually not a step that we are very afraid of.

Rob: I never would have hopped into this concept if I didn't think we had a solid business model. There's $646 million dollars worth of salsa sold in the US every year.

Matt: And that's just the US. Imagine the international potential.

Rob: So far we've invested a certain amount of money, and that amount has gotten us farther than our wildest dreams. So now it's a matter of, what could we do with much more than that? I had a really great conversation last week with an old co-worker of mine, who's now working for a start-up company that has had several rounds of venture capital come in. They're now on their third round of funding and they just got $8 million.

It's out there.

Matt: It's totally out there. These people are just trying to find new ways of making money.

Rob: We're looking for a very small number, compared to that. basically, that's the phase we're in now. The last few months have been constant brainstorming. And then it's about constantly promoting. Every single week, we're reaching out to get more press, or dropping off salsa to anyone we can think of. And it's fun. it's exciting. It's creation.

Matt: And we're doing this on top of pursuing acting and music. This is such a fun and cool way for us to release energy, make a livelihood for ourselves, and also promote and give back to the communities that give us inspiration. This salsa is a wicked mixture of eclectic flavors that together make a good thing. And that's how we feel our lives are. And we want to sponsor artists, athletes, humanitarians, everyone. Give back to as many people that need nourishment or need life or music or culture or anything.

Rob: Here's the key aspect that I feel completely differentiates us from every other salsa company. We're trying to define a lifestyle behind this. We've been sponsoring music shows, so it's The Brooklyn Salsa Company presents this band, this band, this band... And we just did a fundraiser last week for a youth center called the Misled Youth Network. We did a fundraiser to help them pay their rent, and it was great. We've also reached out to local artists and asked them to play around with our logo. Our good friend Matt Craven did this really intricate, interesting piece for us.



Matt: And now we can use it as a logo, but we can also spread his name and his work. We've noticed so many companies doing this recently, too. Ed Hardy's doing it, 1800 Tequila's doing it.

I think companies are now starting to really participate in the cultures or subcultures they try to align themselves with. It's no longer enough to advertise and forge some kind of bullshit connection.

Matt: Exactly. Also we're not trying to create any type of new lifestyle with all of this. We're trying to expose a certain kind of lifestyle that is, I think, extremely important. The whole world is watching right now to see what our generation is going to do with ourselves, and how we are going to turn things around.

Hell yeah! Do you have any advice for other entrepreneurs starting out?

Rob: I think the best advice is to completely believe in your idea.

Matt: Yeah, you have to really trust your idea, once you have it. And you can't let anybody sway your vision. So many people will be like, "This is how you should do it," or, "I don't connect with that," and you have to know what YOU connect to and what the heart and soul of what you're doing is. Eventually, everyone will re-imagine their thinking about it. They'll come around to your side.

Rob: Along with believing in the idea is knowing how to take constructive criticism well. We've been big on constructive criticism. Especially with taste testing; that's how these salsas have been honed over the last six months. We've done probably a total of 10 sponsored parties, and every single one led to revisions.

Matt: We're always asking ourselves, what can this be? What should this be? Since it is still in the idea stage, we can dream as big as we want.

I think you have to.

Rob: You have to think big.

Matt: How do we take over, literally, the world. And really be the best.

Rob: World domination, via salsa.

Matt: It's not like we think, how can we put more salsa on the market and make a little bit of money? We think, how can we make the most money of any salsa company, doing it the best way possible? It's so ridiculous, that when it actually is on shelves, people are going to say, how awesome! Everybody is going to tell the story and everybody is going to be behind it and everybody is going to think it's the greatest thing in the world because everybody thought it was totally crazy in the beginning. Every company is crazy in the beginning.

Rob: Ben and Jerry's was just two guys that liked to make ice cream. And they turned it into this huge thing, and they also have one of the best company ethos and give one of the highest percentages of their profits to charity. We're not starting a bank. We're not starting something that has the potential to become corrupt. We're starting a salsa company. This is something that's going to be able to have a positive vibe, a positive influence. Something that can make us money, but is still fun. Continue Reading....

Mark Goetz is an accomplished furniture designer whose work for Herman Miller stands next to mid-century classics by Eames and other legends. He is a source of inspiration to his students and a source of advice to his former students. We met him in his Manhattan studio and discussed his approach. www.markgoetz.com



What is your personal design philosophy?

I don't view myself as a signature designer. I don't try to create a Mark Goetz style. I'm much more interested in appropriate design. If I do my job correctly, the products I create, not only express my point of view, they equally express the personality of the companies I design for. They're an extension of the brand. I go into companies, try to understand what their strength is, and give them products which will make them much stronger and visible in their respective markets.

My business centers around improvement. I like working with companies who are financially strong, with good distribution, but are in need of a new product direction. I love designing chairs, but I'm less interested in doing one chair for a company. I'm more drawn to a company who wants to reinvent their entire line, ones who want to transform their business through design.

For most of my 20 year career, I really just worked for two companies, Herman Miller and Bernhardt Design. Recently that has really expanded. While I'm still working with Herman Miller, I'm also working with a variety of other companies. It's fascinating because each company sees the world differently. Each has unique capabilties, different types of facilities, and achieves their success differently.

You've worked for a variety of high profile clients including Bernhardt, Marimekko, and Herman Miller. How did you get up to this level?

Early on in my career, I approached Herman Miller with a few pieces I wanted to design for them. They considered them, and when opportunities arose, they contacted me. I've worked for them off and on for eighteen years. It has been a tremendous learning experience to have access to their design, research and engineering departments. My first production chair for them was the Aside chair, a stacking, high volume project.

At the end of the project, during Neocon, they asked me if I'd like to design a sofa for the home which could compliment their existing collection. I remember beads of sweat forming on my forehead, and asking, well, didn't Eames and Nelson design some of the most important sofas of the 20th century?

What they wanted though, wasn't merely an innovative design, but one that could be a usable centerpiece of the home. A classic sofa that could work within their collection, but could also fit into everyday life. The resulting piece, the Goetz Sofa, is the piece that I'm now the most known for. It's a quiet piece which listens to the masterpieces around it. It doesn't try to assert itself against the other classics, but rather it works within the context of their history. The back of the couch is visually striking, because it features both the beauty of the plywood which connects it to Herman Miller and the mitered plywood detail which distinguishes it from the Mid Century Modern pieces.



As for Bernhardt, I worked with them for about seventeen years, creating a good portion of their contract seating collection. Over several years, I designed 70 chairs for them. There was one year when I designed 17 pieces in 6 months - if a piece didn't go out each week I was behind. The company was still young in the contract market then, and we all really worked together to define a new direction. Working for them, without question, formed the bulk of my experience.

When did you decide to strike out on your own and start TZ Design?

I got a job designing a store display for a fashion designer. Although the project was complex and time consuming, I felt so honored to do work I loved, I was initially going to ask only $1,000 for several weeks of work. Then a model maker I had worked with told me that he had bid $8,000 for the job. He said, "Why don't you ask for more, and create a scenario that also works for you?" So I asked for 5,000, and when I got it. I couldn't believe I was doing what I loved and getting paid for it. At the time $5,000 seemed like all the money in the world. I thought it would never run out! So, once I'd made the money, I quit my job.

When I was first working for myself, one of the most memorable days was watching the people outside my window as they went to work in the morning. I would watch the men with briefcases passing by, and I envied them. They knew exactly what they were going to do that day, where they were going to work, and what their responsibilities were. I had no idea what I would do, who I would call, or how I would spend my time. I felt really nervous about the whole situation.

I started my business by just reaching out to companies. I would call them on the phone, introduce myself, and tell them I wanted to design for them. You have to make a point to get to know people, and establish a connection with the other people in your field.




When designers go to companies and say "I would like to design for you," they are asking two things. Firstly, they want to design so they can make a living, but secondly, they want to be told that they're good. They want this stamp of approval that they're talented. That's not the role of a company, though. I learned early on that if a company wasn't interested in my work, I had to ask them why. Sometimes the answer is as simple as "We have a freeze on product development," or "We have three in house designers." Or the owner of the company is also the designer, and no matter how good your piece is, you're not going to design for them.

Eventually Tim Richartz and I founded the studio TZ. We found an artist space which we renovated, and called the studio TZ because both our names ended in those letters.

What was the first piece you had manufactured?

I designed a chair named the Washington Avenue Chair which I pitched to Brickel Associates. I went in, showed them my sketches, and they wanted to put it into production. The piece pretty much went forward without revisions. I remember thinking, wow, this is going to be so easy to make a living as a furniture designer! It was one of the only times in my career that this has ever happened. It's still on the market, but through Geiger. Brickel was bought by Geiger, Geiger by Herman Miller, and Herman Miller still offers the chair for sale through Geiger. Its funny because now, after twenty years, I'm designing for Geiger again, so it's really like I've come full circle.



You also teach design. How has teaching affected you as a designer?

Teaching has given my the ability to verbalize and develop my philosophy about design. I've always been open to lots of different approaches and vocabularies in design, as my own personal taste is very eclectic. I get bored if I work within one narrow path for too long. Teaching a furniture design class, where the students are encouraged to create whatever they want, is a really good fit for my own point of view. I try to leave my own taste out of it, and help students navigate to their personal goals. This is my 16th year of teaching, so I've taught a lot people, become very good friends with many of my former students, and collaborated with a few of them. I just designed a bench for Blank Blank, a company started by one of my former students. It was a great compliment, but also a great challenge.

We recently interviewed Todd Bracher, also one of your former students, with whom you started to22. Could you tell us a little about the studio?

Todd Bracher, Efe Buluc and I started a conceptual group together. We wanted to create designs which were meant to capture imagination not respond to market concerns. The idea of to22 came about right around the change of the millennium. Everyone was saying we better prepare for the 21st century, and we we're laughing, saying, "well we're going to prepare for the 22nd."

Most of our projects have really just come out of good times, humor, and enjoying talking about the future of design. The work was very much about experience based design. Each project dealt with both time and personal investment. For instance, Unbroken, a piece made of shattered ceramic plates, was about letting go of our objects. We are constantly considering the pieces around us as precious; we clean them, keep them on a shelf up high, and protect them. This is was a piece where we literally smashed something to create something else entirely new. It was a great experience, and design wise, against everything that I'd ever been taught.



What advice do you have for someone trying to start a creative business?

My first piece of advice is to always be creating. Whether you're getting paid for it or not. I think one trap you can get into is just stopping. You don’t necessarily need to make a living with the same work you generate to creatively express yourself. You can continue to explore your language and voice outside of paid work. I think it's also important to take stock of what kind of work you want to do, and go out meet people who are succeeding with that kind of work.

When we look at brands, the best brands, we see them as a company. We see the showroom, the signage, the glossy facade - it can be very intimidating. We tend to forget that companies are run by people, people we can meet and introduce ourselves to, get advice from, and show our ideas to. Opportunities begin when people talk to people.

When I first started, I was so nervous, I remember riding an exercise bike, just do get my heart rate up and give me the confidence to call companies. Some people I spoke with were very open and we’ve remained friends for years. And, some companies were not as nice. You never know how someone will respond when you approach them. You can never predict which companies will say what, who you will become friends with, and who you'll work for. What is most important, is to continue learning, keep creating, and have the courage to share your ideas.
Continue Reading....

Nooka is synonymous with innovation. The brand's founder, Matt, had a vision of graphically depicting time in a new way. He turned that vision from a napkin sketch into a highly successful lifestyle company. If anything will inspire you to follow your dreams, this story is it. www.nooka.com



We started this blog to tell the stories of the entrepreneurial community. Design Glut always gets a lot of questions about how we got where we are, and we don't really have good answers because we're kind of flying by the seat of our pants. But then we realized, everybody's kind of flying by the seat of their pants.

That's a great observation. The thing is, after you've actually done something, it gives the illusion of everything being strategic when it works out well, and that's generally when people see it. But you're absolutely right, the stories are interesting because so much of it is happenstance.

Of course, the strategic part is understanding when something good has come your way and leveraging it to the next step, and the next and the next. When I look back at the Nooka story, everything looks so strategic. Everything was done at the right scale at the right time, in hindsight. And yet while I wasn't 100% flying by the seat of my pants there was definitely some of that in there.

How did you come up with the idea for Nooka?

Before I started Nooka, I was doing art direction for traditional advertising. This was mid-90s. But, on the side, I had my own website. I would make crazy animations for poetry, or little art projects. No one else was doing this at the time, which I didn't know. It was just something that was interesting to me. If you searched for web pages that had mixes of technologies, it was me and maybe ten other people.

Then I got a call from someone in Japan, a friend of a friend, who was searching for art directors that understood the web space. They wanted to invest in opening up a design studio in New York, which would handle interactive design, because there were no designers in Japan who had this experience yet. We set up the studio, New York Zoom. We were doing everything from branding, structuring websites, to programming them.

At that time, it was very difficult to get clients to understand that if you don't make the site intuitive for someone to use, it's not going to be successful. Now, that's pretty much understood, but back then it was like banging your head against a wall. I started obsessing over intuitive design. What is intuitive design? I would look at a pair of shoes and shoelaces. And I would think, god, it takes forever to learn how to tie your shoes. It's pretty difficult for kids. That is not intuitive. Now Velcro, that's intuitive.

When I was in that mindset, I saw this huge wall clock at the Landmark Hotel in London. I got a flashback to being taught how to tell time in first grade. And I thought, if you have to teach kids how to tell time, then it's not something you just intuitively know. That set off a little spark in my head - how come there aren't more modalities for expressing time, as it's such a basic concept.

I started doing sketches on napkins, and came up with some ideas that I thought were really cool. I sent them to my lawyer and we got design patents on them. And then I did prototypes, little 3D models. I was friendly with Tom Dixon, and one day when we were having coffee in his office I showed him the designs. He liked them, and he said, "You know what, Seiko has been after me to do watches, and I'm really not interested". He gave me their business cards and said, "If you tell them that I sent you, I'm sure they'll talk to you."

I had contacted Seiko. I had contacted everyone. I had a drawer full of rejection letters from every watch company, including Seiko. But when I contacted Seiko again, they were like, "Oh, you're a friend of Tom Dixon!" I guess they thought maybe I was as famous as him? Whatever. They did my watch. We had one model that came out.



And then later you ended up taking over manufacturing yourself?

Seiko had a very successful sub-brand, Spoon, and my watch was a part of that group. But they decided to change their business structure and shed all their sub-brands. I didn't even know that they had done this, until I got a call from the MoMA store. I had gotten my design into the MoMA store through my own connections. I got a call from them one day, saying, "We tried to reorder the watches, they're doing really really well, and Seiko's telling us they're not going to ship more or make them any more. What happened?."

It was the first I'd heard of it! I got angry enough that I complained about it to anyone that would listen. Eventually someone said, "Oh, you should do it yourself." And I was like, "What do you mean?"

I was introduced to this guy Eddie. He does watch manufacturing for major brands, and goes back and forth to Hong Kong. I met with him, and got some estimates for doing a very limited run. I figured, "OK, I can afford to do this. Even if I don't sell them, it's probably more interesting than having the money sit in a bank, and I'll have Christmas and birthday gifts for everyone forever."

That was literally my train of thought. Of course, I thought it would be great if they sold out, because then it would triple my money. But even if that didn't happen, I felt that it would be very satisfying and that it was something I needed to do.

So I did it. And it sold out in 8 months.

How did you market the watches?

My process was not, "Oh, I love watches. I want to make a watch." So I never really even thought about watch stores. Quite consciously, I knew it would be lost in a watch store. It's really an anti-watch watch. It's a precision timepiece, but it's not a watch. It's not that category.

Having it in the MoMA store presented it as an art piece, or a design object. That, to me, makes sense. And then, like we said, when you look back on things and they seem strategic... Being in MoMA was very strategic. WIthout hiring a sales staff or doing trade shows, I started getting calls from stores that wanted to order. Buyers from all over the world look at the MoMA catalog.

I got a call from United Arrows in Japan, that they wanted to carry the watches. I didn't know it until this happened, but if you're in United Arrows, it's like being in Barney's in New York. All the buyers in Asia look at what Arrows buys. So it was this really perfect cascade effect. MoMA led to Arrows, Arrows led to Hong, Kong, Singapore, Korea... It just was this organic progression.

Of course, now we have a PR agency on retainer and proper sales staff in 3 countries plus distributor arrangements in other other countries.



What's the future of Nooka?

There were a lot of mistakes in the first couple of years, being with the wrong people who didn't understand the brand. Now we spend a lot of money traveling and doing education about the brand. To us it's not a watch, it's a brand. We see it as a fashion brand, and we really want to see it expand beyond the watches.

We're coming out with a line of patented belts and wallets. We're doing a wallet system and a new type of belt. And it's all going to match a new up-and-coming watch. It will be a whole collection. Part of that collection will also be a fragrance. I think the fragrance gives the message that we really are producing a Nooka lifestyle.

The people that buy Nooka, the people that really embrace it, understand that there's a philosophy behind it. And people really get a lot out of it, which is very satisfying to me. People send me emails, or I meet them, and they tell me, "Looking at this watch every day reminds me that there's always another way to do something, and it makes me very happy." Someone just told me that recently, and I was like wanting to cry! They really got it.

You've also gotten into teaching. What have you taken away from that experience?

Yes, I'm an adjuct professor at Parsons. It's amazing. Even for me, in the beginning, it was very difficult to be articulate about my process. When you're teaching, you have to articulate design process otherwise you're not giving anything to the students. So in that sense, I get as much out of teaching as the students get, because I have to hone my presentation and communication skills.

The reason I started teaching was because I got so sick of looking at horrible graduate portfolios from American design schools. Some people criticize me for hiring so many foreigners. At one point I had mostly Japanese designers. Now I have Spanish and Australian staff members, it's very diverse. But the fact of the matter is I see better portfolios from Switzerland, Germany, Japan, Spain than from the US. I wanted to be part of the solution to improve this situation.

Why do you think that is?

The reason is really quite simple. There's a lack of a design culture. Americans may try to argue this point, but you can point to the Netherlands or the UK, which have well-endowed government sponsored organizations that support design as a discipline and as an art. Since their schools are nationalized, the deans can afford to be very picky about their students. Whereas in the US, a school is just a huge business, so they'll let pretty much anybody in.



What advice do you have for designer-entrepreneurs?

It's sort of a yoda-type sage advice: Ask for advice, but also know how to ignore it.

In my experience, people would say, "I'm in the watch business, and we've tried to do designs like this in the past, and I can tell you that you are not going to be able to sell them. Cut your losses now. Don't do this." It sounds intelligent, like this person knows what he's talking about. But you know what, you have to know when to ignore that. I think it's important to be confident.

But you do have to listen. There are so many things that you do need advice on, like legal matters and internet presence and intellectual property and going international. There are all kinds of things that people who go to business school might know, but people like you and me don't. I think it's important to listen, ask for a lot of advice, and really ignore anything that feels wrong to you.

Also, you know you're doing it wrong if you're spending more on time planning, or trying to get financing than designing and actualizing. I think that's the big trap. It's a problem that students have, too. The time you spend talking, writing, looking, and researching should be a smaller percentage than time spent doing, making, and showing.

The more one takes on all of this business stuff and this business language, the harder it is to get back to your creative place. How do you deal with that?

It's really, really hard. It's a process. You have to learn how to delegate and let go. But in order to do that, you need to find people to trust. It's really good to be involved with a school to get interns. Interns can be a lifeline. They're going to enjoy learning from what you're doing, and they're also going to help you free up your time to do what you need to do.

I went through a back-and-forth, where I tried to pull back and not do any of the business, and only do the creative and the design parts. And it just wasn't great. Until you get to a certain point financially, you can not afford to not be involved on every level. So unfortunately, until you have millions of dollars floating around in a bank account, you may never be free of that. You're always going to have to be on top of everything. Or you're going to have to become really comfortable with things not going exactly the way you want them to.

A big danger for people who run their own businesses is that they don't create systems, because they're doing everything themselves. They keep it all in their head, or they have it all in their sketchbook. I'm probably worse at it than with my own company than I am when I do branding for third-party clients, but what I'm trying to do is create systems. I want everybody in the studio to be able to create things that look Nooka, based on the Nooka system. And that will free me to do more creative stuff. I still do business stuff, but am not so overwhelmed that I'm working until midnight every day.


Continue Reading....

Alissia is a hotshot designer from Holland who currently resides in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. Her products are clever, witty, and have quite a bit of character. We went over to her studio to find out how she's built her career as an independent designer. www.byamt.com



So how did you get the word out about your first product?

I designed the "Handful of Plates" when I was in school in Holland. The plates were already in the press in Europe a lot before I graduated. Then I approached a manufacturer, and he wanted to pick it up right away. It was really easy, because he'd already seen the product and he knew it.



What's your impression of US vs. European design? We've been asking a few people this question now, and it always seems to be a real hot-button issue.

I guess there's a difference because there's a cultural difference. I don't think design is something that Americans grow up with. We do grow up with it. Especially in Holland. It's such a designed country, it's almost ridiculous, from the tiles, to signage to lampposts, post office boxes etc. So it's going to be different. There's a taste-level difference, and there's a difference in understanding proportions, color, etc. There are good American designers and there is good American design, but there is less than there could be.

I think mostly it's the design education in the US. Anyone can get into design school here. I don't feel like the bar is very high. And it's a different type of education, because of the amount of money it costs.

That was something interesting which came up when we interviewed Robert Langhorn, who teaches at Pratt. He mentioned how students here feel they have a certain entitlement to passing classes, because they're paying so much money to attend.

Right. Teachers in the US are too afraid they're going to offend someone. I think the first thing you need to learn is that any commentary on your design is not personal. It's about your work. If everyone took everything that someone said personally, no one would function in this world. You shouldn't be offended about that kind of criticism. You usually kind of get pissed off for about a second, and then you let it go.

Also, it seems like students get the chance to learn to have their own signature work. The schools kind of say, "Now you're going to learn this," and "Now you're going to learn that." The schedules are so tight students are always in school. They never have time for themselves to really think about their projects. Schools are open 24/7, so there's no discipline enforced. There are no points when the school or the shop closes, so you have to stop working. Students just go 24/7. Which doesn't teach you work ethic. It becomes this 24/7 thing.

I know I work a lot, but there's a point where you just have to stop. My husband Jan works from 9 to 6 and then he's done. The brain turns off, and he's off looking for food or thinking about soccer or something else than working. And that's much more what we learn to do in Holland. We had to - our school would close. It might seem like a little thing, but you actually learn to think very rationally and very quickly. You're more orderly. You maybe even come to better conclusions about your designs, since you're not constantly in front of your work. By pulling away ideas come as well.



I'm going to segue that into another question I have: Do you have any advice for someone trying to strike out on their own and start a business?

Yeah. Be honest to yourself. Figure out if you can really do it. If you can really push yourself to work every day. Maybe try freelancing first, and see how that goes. If you're going to start on your own, you need capital. Or you need to know you have freelance jobs that can support you. Little gigs here and there that have nothing to do with your own stuff.

Living off royalties is hard. You need a lot of royalties to make it work. Another way is to sell your own pieces. But that isn't easy right away, either, because you need to invest first. A lot of people have this romantic idea of working for yourself. But it's not really like that.

Yes, I think you learn that really quickly.

In a certain sense it is, because you do set your own schedule. But you still have to call people between 9 and 6. And we work with Europe a lot, so we need to get things out as early in our day as possible. Even though you're on your own, you are still going to end up on a schedule.

You also have to be honest about if you really have the skills to work on your own. Figure out what you're really good at, and what your signature is. What you do and what you don't do. Maybe you do it all. But there is always a certain way in which you do things.

I think in order to compete, you have to have something that you can sell as your strength, something to set you apart from the crowd.

Not necessarily. I think some people have good enough connections and they do well even though their work is not that interesting. There are always things out there which don't seem competitive. There are these moments when you don't really agree that someone's design is that interesting or that innovative, but you still see it everywhere. Some people are just really, really good business people. Then again it probably is good that I don't always like everything out there, then I would have nothing to design anymore and it would seem even more useless to design more objects.



What has been your biggest success?

About three years ago, the rings took off, and basically my normal life as a designer was over. The rings gained a lot of momentum and are still going. The glasses are also doing really well, but I think the rings were more innovative at the time they came out.



You've worked with manufacturers and distributors, as well as manufacturing and distributing your products on your own. What do you see as the pros and cons of each route?

You learn a lot when you do your own distribution and manufacturing. I did everything for the rings myself. Because of that experience, when I work with companies now, I know what's going on behind the scenes. Or what's not going on... If you've never sold your own stuff, it's harder to understand the different cultures and how people buy or don't buy. Another thing is that even though a store might be so prestigious and great, they're often hard to deal with.

At the same time, if you don't have to learn these lessons and you find manufacturers for everything, and you're happy with the way everything goes, then by all means go that route. The pro of working with a manufacturer is you don't have to do anything, and you get royalties. The cons are that you might miss out on learning some things.

Can you give us any details about what's on the horizon for you?

Well, more products are coming out for the Dutch company that did the Treehooked. They asked us to do some new pieces. As well as an older piece that has finally been taken into production by another company. More soon on that. And we've been asked to do an interior for Art Basel in Miami as well as 5th Avenue for Christmas. As well as possibly consulting for a Design Centre in NYC.


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Citizen:Citizen makes some of our very favorite design objects. They somehow manage to marry utter luxury with biting social criticism. Philip told us how Citizen became the brand it is today, and delved into the company's philosophy. www.citizen-citizen.com



How did Citizen:Citizen begin?

When we started, the idea was to bring British design over to America. I was working with two business partners. The thinking behind it was that America was a bit backward. We felt that they were 10 years behind what was going on in Europe, as far as the advancement of design and object culture.

It probably still is.

It's certainly not where Europe is. That's a whole bigger conversation, though. But the general premise was that we could bring what we saw in Europe, particularly what was going on in London, and cross-pollinate it. One of the ideas was to hopefully open a gallery in Brooklyn, and bring what was going on in the eastern part of London over to New York. And then conversely, take what was going on in Brooklyn and cross-pollinate it back to Europe.

That was the initial notion. So we set up a gallery in New York and brought over some Frederickson Stallard pieces. About a year later, my business partners decided that they wanted to get day jobs. It was really left to me to understand whether I wanted to keep Citizen or walk away from it. And if I did keep it, what would it be?



I realized that I was most passionate about the objects in the collection which were more conceptual. They were really commenting on themselves, or the history of the material, or their context within the culture. From that moment, it was very apparent where I wanted the company to go. I started working with Tobias Wong, and we brought in Cory Ingram, who did the Crude perfume. We collaborated with Jimmy Jane. There was a whole raft of new designers and artists.

Where are you positioning Citizen:Citizen?

I think we're very consciously commercial. We're not ashamed of that. I think a lot of art galleries pretend they're not commercial, but in my mind Wal-Mart and Gagosian are not that dissimilar. On one level, they're really not.

We've landed, curiously, in-between these two worlds. We're not quite a manufacturing agent. We're not just coming in with a lot of money and a lot of expertise in making and selling, although there is expertise in making and selling. And we're not the artist. But then, we are.

You're not not the artist.

We are living in a middle ground, between artist and producer. We do both. And maybe that's a good thing. I have been both an artist and a maker, so I understand the problems on both sides.



What stores have been doing well for you?

Well, you have to work with what's in the market. There's a huge difference between the stores that we sell to and the store that we will build. At the moment, the stores which we've built have been pop-up stores. Whether it be the pharmacy space that we built down in Los Angeles, or the mini-market that we collaborated on here in San Francisco.

If you think about a store, it is a context for the objects. Citizen's about these objects, and you're providing them with a context. A store is also about selling, and there's all kinds of psychology behind that. Wal-Mart has store psychologists determining the whole layout, determining where the bread counter goes, etc. They do whole scientific studies on spending patterns.

Of course, none of us smaller stores are that sophisticated. And yet, we do have an understanding that the aesthetic, the interior, and the way people go around it will probably affect their decision to buy. It's affecting their belief in you, and therefore their belief in the objects.

For us, one of the things that is really challenging is finding the right context to sell the objects. On one level, we're commenting on consumption, overconsumption, and global capital. But we're not just deriding it, we're also participating in it.



Wholesaling your objects poses an interesting challenge, because you're handing your objects off to someone else and hoping that they carry your brand message on correctly to the customer.

Yeah, it has to translate, doesn't it? We're doing something so fucking difficult, in many ways. We're very commercial, but in some respects it's not overt. We're walking a very confusing line. I've always thought of us more as a fashion brand than anything else. We're definitely not a giftware supplier, like Areaware or Charles & Marie. I'm not dismissing what they do, but that's not our intention. I could go and do that, but I don't want to. We're trying to do something cultural.

The whole point of Citizen:Citizen is that you could take our object and put it in one of those giftware companies. It could exist there. But then it would be a really different object. I've provided a different lens through which you look at it. When you place the Citizen:Citizen lens over something, it hopefully illuminates new ways of seeing the ordinary.

There's nothing more poetic than when you see the ordinary afresh. Whether it be through a wonderful teacher at school, or through your own personal development. Or through art, maybe something moves you. Or through culture. You go to another country and suddenly you realize a lot more about your own country when you come home. You have these moments of mild enlightenment.

What we're trying to do with our objects is to create that paradigm shift.

Can you tell us about any new objects that will be coming out?

I've just been speaking to a guy called Tomas Kral. He's taking these very standard glass objects, such as ketchup bottles and jam jars, and re-valuing them through manipulations like etching and cutting. He's taking the ordinary and making it extraordinary. It's also very interesting from a recycling standpoint.



Going back to the conversation of American vs. European design, what do you think is going on there?

There's a huge gap. And it is not being filled and it is not being supported and it is not being sponsored. With all the will in the world, 100 underpaid creatives in Brooklyn are not necessarily going to change that. Change has got to be systemic and it has got to come from within the institutions. The concept of design has to be broadened and the whole discourse about design has to open up.

In many ways, there's been a lot more design going on here in the US. It's just very commercial. It's going on within Apple and Gap and Williams Sonoma and Pottery Barn. And the Genentechs of this area, all the genetic engineering companies are incredibly design-heavy. All the Silicon Valley companies are incredibly design-heavy.

If you look to the last revolution, which was the industrial revolution in Northern Europe circa 1800, then a comporably-scaled revolution is taking place 20 miles south of here [San Francisco]. Design is often linked with huge cultural shifts. If you look at design in Victorian times, it was because of new technologies: steam power, the smelting of steel, new materials which became available, new distribution systems...

Design does not sit like a kind of crust on top of culture. It's deeply embedded. When we get these huge shifts, then we'll get huge shifts in design. The next huge shift is an understanding of what sustainability is. That's a great opportunity. But government needs to fund it. They can give tax breaks, or they can institutionalize it, or they can put it out to private contract. If they can invent the atomic bomb, then they can do new power systems. I look at design in this much bigger place.


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Ryan is the force behind Pomp&Clout, and the king of video flyers. What is a video flyer, you might ask? It's a new promotional medium which is enabled by viral file-sharing. Pomp&Clout's eye for graphics and ear for beats are a killer combination, leading to amazing music-related graphics. www.pompandclout.com



How did Pomp & Clout start?

It started because my friend Aaron Vinton and I wanted to do a collective site, showing both of our work. Shortly after, another friend, Sam Hyde joined as well. Then at some point along the way we all kind of took divergent paths. I guess you could say I do more "commercial" work. Aaron has moved towards experimental art/audio. Sam's using his twisted humor and motion graphics skill to work more on comedy skits and animations... I held onto Pomp&Clout and began using it as my portfolio site.

What made you want to move in a more commercial direction?

I enjoy working on stuff that solves a problem or has a specific function. I still, of course, appreciate art and I think the stuff that Aaron & Sam are doing is amazing. But what I really enjoy working on are projects that go beyond the purely visual.

Could you give me an example?

A great ongoing project has been gwap.com. Gwap stands for "games with a purpose." It was initiated by a guy in computer science at Carnegie Mellon. He won a MacArthur Foundation grant, also called the Genius grant, to create this site. His idea was to use the human mind to solve problems that computers can't easily solve. The basic premise is, let's have people play this game, and then let's get useful functionality from that.



Let's take the ESP Game for example. You and a partner see the same image and are asked to type in a tag for it. When you agree on a tag, you move on and are awarded points. After just a minute of play, you've agreed on six or seven tags. We record those six or seven tags and associate them with the images. Now a search engine will have a better idea of what's in those images. [gwap.com]

I think it's a really cool idea. I've become the art director and designer, dealing with everything visual and interactive on the site. It's very function-driven. These guys are straight-up engineers. They're good at coding. It's interesting to bring something different to the team. And they treat what I do as the end-all be-all of how it's going to look.

How do you find most of your clients?

The majority of it is word of mouth. Various people I know have recommended me to their friends who are in need of design. I got started by doing logos. Now the projects are mostly web-related, like with Gwap. I work with engineers who are in need of designers.

Lately I've also been getting into a lot of music-related stuff. It started with these "video flyers" I made for promoting the Lovelife parties. People have seen them and hired me to do similar stuff. While the website work mainly comes from tech people who need a designer, the music/graphics work comes from people seeing something I've done and thinking it's cool and contacting me about their project.

Could you explain the video flyers a little more?

I started throwing these dance parties in Providence almost a year ago, with three DJ/Producer friends. I came in to do the projections. It was something I'd dabbled in before that, sitting at the computer and throwing imagery up that I'd made or that I'd sampled.

I'd seen promotional videos that were done for these parties, which were kind of exciting but they were always just photos from previous parties. I wanted to try my hand at it, and try something different, something with a mini-narrative.

The first one I did was based on a thought I had at the club on the first night. The parties are in the basement. It's kind of a weird space, but we tried to turn it into a positive deal. The slogan was, "In our basement, we will be together forever." I remember being at the club and thinking that it felt like this sequence in Goodfellas where Ray Liotta and Lorraine Bracco walk into a club through the back entrance. So I sampled that video sequence and laid in all this motion tracking and spent way more time on it that I probably should have, putting together this thing.



In the end, though, a lot of people responded to it. I heard, "This is really cool, it fits the venue, it builds up anticipation for the party." Which was exactly the idea, to get people excited about coming out. So I kept making them. They're really fun, because they're somewhere between a music video and a commercial. It's obviously music-driven, because it's an ad for a dance party.

Do you see your work moving more in that direction?

Currently, doing web design and identity design brings in the money. But I'd love to get more into doing music videos in the future. I've started getting inquiries from people who want me to do music videos or other promo videos. The music stuff is really fun and also really challenging.

That whole culture is very discriminating and expects everything to be incredibly fresh. You can't fall back on old methods. But there's a lot of room for experimentation. I once sampled this deep-sea documentary footage of fish swimming around. I thought it was really cool, so I came up with a way to use it. I can throw in all kinds of random stuff.

Video flyers aren't very common, are they?

No, it's new. It's kind of sprung up with peer-to-peer video-sharing sites like Vimeo, YouTube and Facebook. Those sites have made it incredible easy to just throw something up and pass it around. If the video is cool, people will pass around the link, and a bunch of people see it who might not have otherwise heard about the event.

I do print flyers for the shows too, and I'm trying to make a cohesive set for each party, where the print flyer references the video flyer and vice-versa. We're creating both a visual and a musical identity. We've also started a Lovelife blog, lovelifewith.us. That's really fun. It's the four of us, the three DJs and I, putting up links to things that we're into and we think other people would be into.



Did you always know that you wanted to go off on your own and work for yourself?

I've always been interested in doing stuff online, and collaborating with other people. I freelanced all throughout college. In high school I ran a small shareware company called Melonsoft. I did the development, the design, the marketing... It was really exciting.

The internet makes it so easy for anyone to get themselves out there. What was Melonsoft about?

I started it in early high school, shortly after the first iMac came out. That's how I keep track of time. The initial iMac, aqua one, the one that killed the whole "beige" thing.

I taught myself how to write software. I made an mp3 player, a drum-machine program, a piano program... It was all kind of music-related, actually. I'd figure out how to do something and quickly hack together a program that kind of worked and looked cool.

And it was all shareware?

It was all shareware. Anyone could download it, and if you paid you could register it. I had a serial number system worked out. It wasn't much of a system. It was essentially a specific four-character string followed by any fifteen characters. I was kind of cutting corners. I actually found stuff on hacker databases, saying how to hack my serial numbers. So that sucked.

But other than that, it was cool. The software ranged from $5-$50. I was in high school and I was making decent money. It gave me the balls to just pay the overhead of a domain name and web hosting, put stuff online, and turn it into a business.

Do you have any advice on becoming an entrepreneur?

I would say that the most difficult part for me is handling all the business stuff. Not that I really have that much business stuff to handle. But make sure you have some sort of system in place, whatever it may be, to keep track of who's paid you and who hasn't paid you. I had a recent situation with a non-paying client... It turned into an altercation, over email, in which I was essentially threatened...

So yeah, keep on top of things, make sure you get paid on time. If you're doing freelance web work, especially if it's a new client, try to get paid half up-front. That ensures they've given you money and they know the situation and they know you're not just working for free.



That's one of the most difficult things, to actually get people to pay you and to realize the value of your services.

Exactly. And as far as the value of your services, when pricing a project, always try to overshoot. The client may negotiate you down. I think a lot of people coming out of school, especially coming from design or art backgrounds, don't really hear much about how to price projects.

There have been times when I way undersold myself and afterwards thought, "What the hell am I doing?" And then at times I've charged way too much, and people just laugh in your face and walk away. So it's kind of been an intuitive process and a lot of trial-and-error to figure it out.

It seems like a lot of people in our generation are looking for freedom in their work schedule, rather than the 9-to-5 thing.

If I went full-time freelance or started a one man studio, I wouldn't feel the need to work anywhere but my apartment. I think that's the beauty of this new web-entrepreneur culture, or whatever you want to call it. You can just work at home, do what you want, take days off. That's ultimately what I'd like to get to.

Even at my current job, a lot of the work I do can be done from home. I can connect to the servers, or email stuff. It's really unnecessary to physically be at your place of work. I think that's the future. People can be wherever they want to be. I've thought about the possibility of trying to get an RV at some point, and just have a 3G card, and travel around and do freelance.

That's awesome. Travel, work, make money.

Yeah. As long as you have internet access, obviously. That's the big necessity. But you could even be in a remote location, do a ton of work, and then drive to a cafe and shoot it off. So someday, maybe that will happen. Right now I'm kind of riding both worlds, the freelance world and the office world.

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I first heard Todd Bracher's name when he won the title of 'Best New Designer' at ICFF this year. The title is a bit misleading, however, as he has quite a lot of success and experience under his belt already. His clients include Fritz Hansen, Zanotta, Georg Jensen, and Tom Dixon. Read on to find out how this native New Yorker took his design career to Europe and back.
www.toddbracher.net



So how did your design career begin?

I went to Pratt for industrial design, and graduated in '96 with a bachelor's. After that I was doing barbecue tools and remote-control caddies and spice racks. Middle America stuff. It didn't suit me; it just wasn't at all what I wanted out of design. I was working for this company, scratching my head, and questioning what I was doing there.

Before this product design company, I worked for Mark Goetz, who is now a good friend of mine. I learned about furniture design in his studio. I learned that there's a poetry to it. There's a kind of spirit and a soul which the work I was doing for this product company didn't have. I wanted to get in on that. And it was happening abroad. The Milan furniture fair is where it's at. For furniture, but also for other types of design. It's kind of the world series for design. I went to Milan to check it out.

If you're a designer, that's where you have to be. Even if you're making lampshades or chopsticks. You need to go to this show. It's mainly furniture and lighting, but also a lot of objects. I saw the show, fell in love with it, and realized this is what I wanted. It was like... I keep using this baseball reference. If you want to play baseball, you can't really live in the Czech Republic. You have to be in the States or in Cuba or in Japan. You can't be in the middle of nowhere. And New York felt to me like the middle of nowhere, so I left to where the action was. Which to me is Denmark and Italy and France. Within a couple of years, I got a Fulbright grant to go study for my masters in Copenhagen.

What then?

I knew that I wanted to work for Zanotta. They are the legends of Italian design and that's what I wanted to be part of. So I focused on them. I called them when I was in Copenhagen and said, "I want to make designs for you." And they said, "That's fine, but so do 300 other people every week. But send us some ideas." So I put together a presentation, sent it to them, and they really liked it. I thought, "That was easy!"

They made a prototype, but then they decided there was no way they could sell it, so that was the last I heard from them.



What was the piece?

It's this table, just a frame with a surface. It's a very conceptual cafe dining table. It's like a room within a room. It was a new idea, and that's what they liked. It was what they called a "new typology." And that is the secret of getting in. If you're just making a new shape, then they don't care. They have a million people who can do that. But if you're offering them something new, that they can make money with, that's when you're in. I realized they were responding to this table because it was a novel idea. It wasn't just more of what they already do.

What happened after grad school?

I moved to Milan in January of 2001, to accelerate getting into the industry. It's where the factories, the materials, and the people are. I called Zanotta all the time, asking "Can I come in for a meeting? I have all these ideas to show you." And they, of course, didn't remember me and would always say no. I kept calling and calling. Finally, in the first week of September, I got through. They told me to come in the next week and show them my stuff. It was great. But I had nothing prepared, at all. So I then had a week to design everything. I worked my ass off.

September 11th happened on that Tuesday. After that, who cares about design? The next day was my meeting. I remember, going into the meeting, that everyone was a little depressed and a little bored with design. It was very awkward.

I showed them my 10 designs. They literally loved them all. Then at the end of the meeting, they said, "We really like it, but we're not so sure... We get a lot of proposals... You're kind of young, you're American... But we'll call you if we're interested." And I thought, well that's okay. I left the office and I walked across the street and I was waiting for the bus, when they phoned. They were laughing, and they said, "Send us the drawings tomorrow." They were really having a laugh with me. It was pretty cool.



That was the Freud sofa. It's asymmetrical and thin, which was brand new at the time. That's why it happened. Once again, creating a new typology is the secret. That's one thing that nobody tells you.

Mark Goetz has a brilliant analogy. Say you look in the shop windows, like Capellini or Vitra, and go home and design something in the same spirit and the same language. Mark says that's like looking up at the stars in the sky. The actual light you're seeing left the stars a long, long time ago and isn't there anymore; the stars have moved and changed and maybe burnt out. So if you're designing based upon what you're seeing now, you've already missed the boat. You need to be ahead of that curve.

What do you consider your biggest success so far?

The Fritz Hansen conference table. It's turned out to be their most successful piece in 50 years. It was a scary process, because you invest a lot of money, and four years of work, and if it fails, you go out of business. It was a gamble, but it was definitely worth it. I'm really proud of it.



Have you found that designing such a successful piece has opened up a lot of doors to you?

You know, I'm really quick to say not at all. But I think the truth is, it must. It's just not that visible.

The main benefit is that people gain a little more faith in you. They see that another company invested in you. Fritz Hansen spent millions of dollars on developing and promoting the table. Other companies will see that success and will not be so afraid to invest as well. It helps. For sure. But have I ever just gotten phone calls from somebody offering me a great job? No. You have to fight for everything.

How do you seek out new clients?

I'll cold call and I'll pitch work. If I really want to design pots and pans, I'll design pots and pans for a week. I'll put it all together and show it with my portfolio. Usually, 9 times out of 10, they say, "We absolutely love them, though there's no way we'll make them. But here's a design brief." And then you do that job, and you're in.

Or, if you really love a company, you can study them and see what they need. Then you can make an approach and submit a proposal.

The secret to this whole business is, if they can make money with your design, they'll do it. It's not going to be because they like you. It's because they'll make money. If you have a smart approach for them, they'll listen to it.



How does the business end work with your manufacturers? Are they all royalty agreements?

It depends. Some pay small fees up front. If I were to generalize, everything is on a royalty basis, and then the percentage varies from company to company. Certain smaller companies can't afford to pay as much, so maybe I'll take a smaller royalty percentage but I'll ask for a percentage of their company. The percentage might be very small, it might be 1 or 2 percent.

That's really interesting. I'd never even thought of a designer getting equity in a company.

It's a good way to do it because it's an investment on both sides. I'm saying, "Listen, keep the money in your pocket. I have faith in your company and I want to grow with you. Let's make it successful." It ensures both that you have an interest in the company, and they have an interest in you. It creates a long relationship.

A problem I have with this business is that you're usually hired as a guest. You design for a manufacturer for a year, and then they say goodbye and bring in somebody else. I don't understand that. When you finish a project, you know the company pretty well. You know everyone there and you understand how they work. And they know the same about you. That's the point where we could really take this company somewhere. When you have a little bit of equity, then they're willing to spend more time with you.

Where do you see your studio heading?

In my mind, we'd be doing three to five really good projects a year. And maybe two experimental ones, which we're not really sure where they're going to go. That's what I want out of it. I think that small architecture is going to take hold and become a permanent arm of the company, which I like.




How did you get into small architecture?

When I was living in Milan, I shared an office with an architect. We ended up doing a lot of projects together. That gave me a lot of confidence and an understanding that it's actually just design, in a different way. Not even in a different way, in a lot of cases. I was making furniture. For me, furniture is an extension of architecture. You start realizing that there's another layer of design you're not exploring. That's why I'm doing these projects. I did a building in Tokyo for Tom Dixon, and that was fun. It explores a lot of the same ideas I have in design.

That's definitely inspiring, as we want to get into larger work in our studio. We've been close to designing an interior and it seems to have completely fallen on its face, which is disappointing.

Oh, they're always going to fall on their face. Maybe 75% of projects go out the window. Which is fine, as long as you're getting paid well for the other 25%. For some reason, clients, lousy ones, don't understand that you need to get paid for what you do. There's a value to what you do, and there's a massive expense that goes into what you do. A lot of the lousy ones think you just make sketches and that's it. I think the hardest part is to prove your value. You have to stand up for yourself. It's really hard to work when you're not being paid for your time.

How do you convince clients to pay you up-front?

If a job is paying you, then you have the resources to do it well. If you're not being paid for it, then you kind of skim through it and the job's maybe not as good as it should have been. That's the reason why clients should invest in your time. Maybe $2,000 is all you need up-front to get the job done well. You should ask for that. If you can get them to pay a fee, fine. But I think getting an advance on royalties is most fair. I often hear, "Well, we don't pay our other designers." And I say, "Then work with them." They'll grudgingly give me the two grand. And then I have the money to do a proper job. Clients usually don't get that this is what determines you doing a decent job. Who has a bunch of free time laying around to just come up with furniture?

And of course, once they invest in you, you have to do a really good job. Designers who think it's easy and take a nonchalant approach and don't show the same respect to companies, are the ones who give designers a bad name.

I feel like that's the designer stereotype.

It's a partnership between you and the manufacturer. You're making something for them. That's the way I see it. Of course, many people don't.

You've moved from furniture to bigger scale works. Do you also do smaller pieces? What's your spectrum?

Yes. Absolutely anything. I've done some jewelry and I do a lot of tabletop stuff. I've designed a scent, which is in the works. I like doing stuff which is not conventional. How many tables are you going to do? I'd rather mix it up and design a boat and design a birthday cake and design whatever I can.



Do you have any advice for young designers starting out?

- If you're going to work with a new company, go to their factory as soon as you can. Most people don't think to do that. They just start sketching. Go to the factory, learn what's going on, talk to the guys in the factory, and see what's up. Right away, you'll learn something about what's possible. You're working for the machines. And get to know the people there, because those are the people who are going to be making your stuff. You need to have a relationship with them.

- Get out there and get to know as many people as you can. Sooner or later, these people will work their way up in business. It's really important to meet a lot of people. I think a lot of young designers don't that. They tend to stick to themselves.

- Stick to what you're good at. Don't expect to be a brilliant business person overnight. And the lawyer, and the accountant, and accounts payable and accounts receiving... It's too much to take on as an individual. Take small steps, in the direction you want. It's your company. Things can quickly start to go in a direction that you didn't want them to go in. Contracts, and terms, and taxes, all that stuff is part of your business and you're going to have to deal with it, but I wouldn't make it a bigger deal than it is. Bring in people who are specialists and who are good at it. The longer you're in it, the easier it gets, because you know more and more people.

We've found that the deeper you get into the business end of things, the harder it is to put everything aside and get back to the creative place where great design happens.

Honestly, I think that's an exceptional challenge that creative businesses have. I spend maybe 80% of my days doing reports, papers, emails, nonsense. Maybe as my business grows I can afford to hand more of that off to other people. Then again, the best business people that I've ever met are really creative. They have a beautiful way to look at business. You can do that too. You shouldn't run a design studio like you were running a supermarket. I don't think I run my business conventionally, but it's working. Continue Reading....

I discovered the Fuck Off Sarah Palin T-shirt just as my terror at having Palin as a VP was peaking. I thought, if anything captures the zeitgeist right now, it's this. I wanted to know who was behind it. Kim Berlin is a creative director who decided to get political after she became supremely pissed at the Palin campaign. Go get a shirt or a button for yourself, and let the conversations begin. Proceeds will be donated to Planned Parenthood in Palin's name.



What led to the first shirt?

When Sarah Palin's Vice Presidential candidacy was announced, I got really angry. Not necessarily that she accepted the nomination, but how so many people seemed to be so fooled by her. I thought, "What the hell? This woman, who nobody's ever heard of, who has absolutely zero credentials, could be our next VP? She's not presidential material by any stretch of the imagination." You have to think of someone in terms of being presidential material when they're a vice president. And let's face it, McCain is no spring chicken.

Late one of the nights of the convention, I had to take a taxi from the train station back to my home in north Jersey. Making conversation, the cab driver said, "So, how about that Sarah Palin!" I remained quiet as I wasn't quite sure which way he was going to go. And then he remarked, "Did you see how she was just stroking the head of her child? Wow. That lady's unbelievable!" He was completely enamored with her. A person from right in my own backyard. I couldn't believe it. And I thought, "That's it."

I'm a creative director by trade, so at work the next morning I quickly whipped up the simplest slug of type I could. I didn't feel this woman was worthy of any clever copywriting or a well thought-out design. I simply took my message, printed it out on heat transfer paper and took it home. I had a sample t-shirt left over from a client pitch that just happened to be this great or