Seth Godin:
The failures, the things I forgot to do, the people I didn’t see, who I should have respected, the ways I wasted time and money. If I didn’t have those, I wouldn’t be who I am. And I’m okay with who I am.

Curtis Fox:
From the TED Audio Collective, this is Design Matters with Debbie Millman. On Design Matters, Debbie talks with some of the most creative people in the world about what they do, how they got to be who they are, and what they’re thinking about and working on. In this episode, Seth Godin talks about the importance of planning for a creative future.

Seth Godin:
We can’t get to edit the past. We get to edit the future.

Curtis Fox:
Seth Godin is familiar to long-time listeners of Design Matters since Debbie has interviewed him on several different occasions over the years. Seth Godin is an entrepreneur, a marketer, a blogger, a teacher, and a bestselling author. His many books include The Practice: Shipping Creative Work, and This is Marketing: You Can’t Be Seen Until You Learn To See. His latest is This is Strategy: Make Better Plans. Debbie spoke to him about it in December in front of a live audience at the School of Visual Arts in New York City. The interview was arranged by CreativeMornings, the monthly breakfast lecture series for creative communities throughout the world, founded by Tina Roth-Eisenberg.

Debbie Millman:
Welcome, my dear friend.

Seth Godin:
I am so lucky to be able to do this, and it reminds me of why this work is worth doing, but it also makes me better because then I go back to my office and think, “How can I possibly repay the generosity of the people in this room, and of you, and of Tina.” It’s just such a highlight. Thank you.

Debbie Millman:
My absolute honor. The first thing I want to ask you about is what is behind us? What are we looking at?

Seth Godin:
Well, so the idea was we could put something in the background. We don’t want it to be distracting, but we want it to possibly be inspiring or metaphorical. It turns out it’s against the law to fly a drone in Algonquin Park, north of Toronto, Canada. And I have this phobia of being arrested in a foreign country.

Debbie Millman:
Really?

Seth Godin:
But here I am-

Debbie Millman:
Who knew?

Seth Godin:
Yeah. I am flying a drone at six o’clock in the morning and paddling the canoe at the same time. This is a 70-year-old chestnut canoe that my mom gave me, and I’m in the middle of a 3,000-square-mile park. And I’ve taught many, many people how to paddle a canoe. But the thing that’s the metaphor here is this is double ultra slowed down, but it’s still moving. And it’s a lot like our careers. It’s a lot like the creative process, which is you never get across the lake all at once. You get across the lake one stroke at a time, and it takes a long time, but you make progress.

And the other thing that I remind myself all the time is when you paddle a boat, it feels like you’re moving the water behind you, but physically that’s impossible because if you move that water, it has to move the next water and the next water. It’s a million pounds of water. What you’re actually doing is using this thing that feels liquid, but is actually almost solid, to propel you forward. And when we think about the culture around us, everything we do touches the culture, changes the culture a little bit, but mostly it’s a lever that allows us to do our work. There is no first of anything. There’s just our next iteration of it day by day.

Debbie Millman:
Yeah, that combinatorial creativity.

Seth Godin:
Yeah.

Debbie Millman:
I love that metaphor. And having been in a boat of yours, I can say that there’s something really wonderful about sharing the water with someone and sort of feeling the time go by. And we’re going to talk a lot about time today.

Listeners of my show know that I like to take a long journey into a person’s life. This is my fourth interview with you. We talked very much about how you have created your life and become who you are in my previous interviews with you, 2014 and 2017. In 2020, we talked about your brilliant book, The Practice: Shipping Creative Work. And how we were managing through COVID. We did that online. It was a Zoom conversation. And today, I get the great good fortune of a deep dive into your brand new book, which you’ve generously given everyone here today. This is Strategy: Make Better Plans. Easy first question for me, maybe not so easy to answer, but why this book now?

Seth Godin:
A long time ago, if you talked to my grandparents and you said, “What are you going to do tomorrow?” The answer would be obvious, “I’m going to do what I did yesterday. That’s my job.” And there’s still some people that’s true for but not many of us. What we do tomorrow is largely up to us and there are all these tools, trillion dollars worth of tools that have been built for us, a connection of billions of people. What will you do tomorrow? And if you don’t think about that question, you’ve surrendered, you’ve given up agency to a system that doesn’t have your best interests at heart. And I’m surrounded by people who I care about, who do great work, who put love and heart into it, but they aren’t taking the understanding that is available to them of strategy.

Strategy is not tactics, strategy is not, “What should I do right now to get what I want?” It’s, “What do I want? And how is the system going to help me get it or keep me from getting it? And is what I want achievable?” And as far as I’m concerned, there are no books about strategy. There are books about tactics. There are books about MBAs or whatever. I needed to write something, and it’s a lot of work to publish a book, to bring to people who I care about to say, “Here’s 400 questions. Don’t answer all of them, but at least ask them, and maybe it will help you make the impact you want to make.”

Debbie Millman:
You start This is Strategy by stating that most books on strategy are for corporate MBAs or West Point generals. And I love the fact that so much … Well, I don’t know that I love it, but I find it quite interesting that so much of the vernacular around strategy is military-based.

Seth Godin:
Yeah.

Debbie Millman:
Why do you think that these books are catering to that specific demographic?

Seth Godin:
So, a scarcity mindset is essential if real estate is what you’re playing with. Each acre of land can only be owned by one person at a time. So, scarcity drove the way people with power thought for a very long time, but now as creativity becomes more important, abundance is actually the key. Connection is actually the key. That if I have an idea and I share it with everyone here, I don’t lose it, they get it, and it benefits all of us. So, strategy has to shift from how do I take what’s yours to how do I create the conditions for all of us?

Debbie Millman:
I took a class with Milton Glaser almost 20 years ago, and he was the first person that really introduced me to the idea of scarcity versus abundance. And until that point, I realized without actually knowing consciously, that I was operating out of a mindset of scarcity. That if I don’t hold on tight to what I have, I’m going to lose it. I’m going to somehow be threatened with abandonment of anything, ideas, finances, love.

And he really challenged us to think about the idea that there is really enough to go around in this universe if we share. And the more we hold on to things, the more likely we are to actually crush them.

Seth Godin:
Right.

Debbie Millman:
And I thought it was really profound. It’s taken me a long time, I understood it intellectually, but to actually feel that was possible.

Seth Godin:
Yeah. It’s much easier to talk about than it is to do. And for fans of your podcast, if you go back to the episode you and I did 10 years ago, you can hear about when Milton Glaser threw me out of his class, because it’s totally related to this because-

Debbie Millman:
Oh, well, then tell us once again. It’s been 10 years.

Seth Godin:
Well, no, I mean, I won’t tell the whole long story, but the short version is Milton decided there wasn’t enough room in his class for both of us. And it was his class, so I had to go.

Debbie Millman:
It’s sort of un-Milton-like, though. I’m surprised. Every time I hear that, I think, “Really? He must’ve been in a bad mood that day.”

Your book contains a really beautiful narrative arc and includes 294 strategy maxims. What made you decide to create the book in this way? It’s a really unusual way of organizing a book.

Seth Godin:
I’m surprised at how many people, not you, but how many people were very unsettled by this.

Debbie Millman:
Unsettled?

Seth Godin:
Yes. But what I discovered is a few things. First of all, I had a lot to cover because I’m trying to articulate a whole philosophy that I couldn’t riff on other people’s version of, because I was articulate that there are four things involved in strategy. But if I had to do it in order, if I had to talk nothing but systems without talking about games till later, it all fell apart.

So, how do we learn something new, like when we’re three years old? Our mom doesn’t sit us down and say, “Here’s asparagus, here’s zucchini, and here are all the vegetables in between. We’re going to do vegetables today.” That’s not what happens, right? You bump into a vegetable and then later on, a couple of weeks later, there’s another vegetable. So, this idea that we could layer things, I think that’s how people actually learn, and I think that’s how we think about the world. So, as soon as I gave myself the freedom to tell the story the way I would teach it to someone sitting next to me, the book flowed. And forcing it into a traditional organization didn’t help, so I didn’t.

Debbie Millman:
Do you think that people were unsettled because they want specific instructions and a menu of how to do something?

Seth Godin:
Yeah, I mean, TLDR, which people are too busy to understand what it stands for, it stands for too long, didn’t read. We’re pushed to say, “I’ll just read the first three pages and then pretend I read the book.” So, if the first three pages don’t tell you the joke and the answer, you’re frustrated. But I couldn’t do that this time.

Also, the number of people who buy and read a book has gone down by a factor of 10, not just my books, but all books. And there are more and more books, but per book, it’s way lower. So, if you’re going to read the book, here’s the book. If you don’t want to read the book, read the blog post. Either one is fine with me.

Debbie Millman:
So, what I want to do, which is very unusual for the way I construct my interviews, I actually want to take some of the 294 maxims and talk a little bit about some of them, particularly the ones that really moved me. So, I want to share some of my favorite descriptions of strategy from your book and discuss them, at least at the beginning. And so first, you state that strategy is not what most people think it is.

Seth Godin:
Right. Most people think, if do some Google searching, “Here’s my strategy to get more Twitter followers. Here’s my strategy to do this.” No, those are your tactics. Tactics are steps, instructions, bullet points. There was a strategy long before you decided to do that at all. Strategy is a philosophy of becoming. It’s what will the me of two years from now be glad I did today? And if the world didn’t change, strategy and tactics would be very simple and very similar. But the world changes not just when you do things, but when other people do things. So, we cannot predict the future.

And so, if you think about a surfer, we think someone’s a good surfer when they have good waves. And we watch someone struggle and think they’re not a good surfer, when in fact, they just didn’t pick good waves. So, a big part of what we’re talking about here is making the decision to be a surfer, making the decision to go to which beach on which month of the year, and then picking which waves to let go by and which waves to surf. Those are things we skip over all the time because we got to go to work. But if you do those parts right, everything else about your work gets easier.

Debbie Millman:
I was really struck by how the surfers in the Olympics over the summer were waiting for the waves. And what’s interesting about the way that the Olympics manages the surfing competition is that there’s a certain amount of time you’re given and then you wait for your waves and you decide which waves you want to surf. And I learned so much the barrel of a wave and how people go through the waves. But it’s so interesting that this is something you have to choose once you have the option of participating with the wave, which was something I’d never thought about before.

Seth Godin:
Right. Exactly. But one of the sentences in the book is, “Don’t play games you can’t win.” But if we did a census of everyone here, I’m going to assert that 20% of you are playing a game you can’t win.

Debbie Millman:
What does that mean?

Seth Godin:
A game you can’t win. So, how many people are trying to make a living by having 30 million followers on YouTube? A lot.

Debbie Millman:
Really?

Seth Godin:
Yeah.

Debbie Millman:
Oh.

Seth Godin:
How many people will have 30 million followers on YouTube? Essentially zero to a rounding error. The chances that your work will pay off if that’s what you’re chasing, are vanishingly close to zero. If you still want to do it knowing that, that’s cool, you have the freedom to do that. But we’ve been seduced into thinking that there’s a certain kind of practice we should sign up for because we will get a prize at the end without analyzing, what are the actual odds? Someone’s going to win the lottery, but it’s probably not going to be you.

Debbie Millman:
And so, your recommendation is to not play the lottery?

Seth Godin:
Correct. Playing the lottery is a bad decision. You only get today once to invest. Why not invest it in a place with a strategy that is more likely to help you get where you’re seeking to go, and help the people you serve get to where they seek to go?

Debbie Millman:
You also state that strategy is a flexible plan that guides us as we seek to create a change. It’s scary and it takes time. Why is it scary?

Seth Godin:
Well, part of the reason it’s scary is because it takes time. So, you don’t know until later if that forest is going to have been worth planting. The other reason it’s scary is it might work and then you’ll be responsible, or it might not work, and then you’ll be responsible. And it’s so much easier to just do your job because then you’re not responsible.

And the biggest difference between someone who has a job and someone who’s a freelancer or an entrepreneur is the person who has a job gets to say, “I’m just doing my job.” And everybody else has to say, “I decided to do this today.” And that’s the leap that the kind of person who comes to CreativeMornings is either making or wants to make, is to be able to say, “I made this.” Not, “I did it because my boss told me to.” “I made this.” That is such a thrilling way to be a human.

Debbie Millman:
In terms of being a human, there’s a lot of different ways in which people think they’re being a strategic thinker or developing strategic planning. Roger Martin has pointed out that companies really like strategic thinking, I’m sorry, strategic planning.

Seth Godin:
Strategic planning. Correct.

Debbie Millman:
Strategic planning. But it has nothing to do with strategy.

Seth Godin:
Right.

Debbie Millman:
So, can you talk a little bit about that? I think that’s so fascinating.

Seth Godin:
So, Roger’s insight is brilliant here. Strategic plans mean if we do all the steps, we will get the result. And the reason that corporations like that is they are managers. Managers order people to do all the steps. So, therefore, all you need is a strategic plan. Now, we do all the steps, we get what we said we were going to get.

But that’s not what strategy is. Strategy is all of the complicated thinking we have to do before we decide. We come up with the list of the steps. And corporations don’t like that because it’s muddy and murky and it doesn’t come with a guarantee. And it’s easy to look after the fact and say, “Oh yeah, NVIDIA was brilliant.” “Well, yeah, but you had everything you needed to do that, Intel, but you didn’t because you didn’t think through strategy. You were busy doing your plan.”

Debbie Millman:
You write that a goal might be part of a strategy, but strategy is not a goal. Why not? And how do you differentiate between the two?

Seth Godin:
Okay. So, this would be a good time to talk about the four threads. The four threads are systems, games, empathy, and time.

Debbie Millman:
Games. And time.

Seth Godin:
And very few of those threads need to have a goal associated with them. So, the one that I keep coming to over and over again is systems followed by time. Systems are these invisible things that everyone takes for granted, that are there to reinforce themselves. We have a system anytime humans come together repeatedly to get something done. So, a simple cultural system is in the Western world, if you meet someone, you shake their right hand. Right? You don’t do the hokey pokey, or you don’t even reach out your left hand, your right hand. It’s so much easier than having every single time to start over. That makes sense. It’s super simple.

But another system is the college industrial complex. So, from the time you’re seven years old, your parents want you to get good grades. Why? So you can get into a famous college. Why? So that they can feel like they did a good job raising you. And it goes deeper. And then you’ve got people with tenure and you’ve got football teams and you’ve got campuses and tour guides. All of this stuff, a quarter million dollars in debt invented because the system built around it from 400 years ago with Harvard. And we can look at the elements of that system and understand it, which we better do before a 17-year-old decides to apply. Where are they applying? Why are they applying? See the system, it’s all pushing you in a certain direction, right?

There is the system of New York freelance creative work, and there’s a way we’re expected to have our portfolio and there’s a way we’re expected to show up and a checklist of things. There’s the system. I talked to a guy yesterday who desperately wants to be picked by a famous art gallery like Gagosian to show his work. Well, that system’s only 75 years old, but that system isn’t there for him. They want him to be there for them, but it’s not there for him. So, you got to think, “Oh, what am I doing here? Do I even see the system?” Before you announce you have a goal.

Debbie Millman:
I love the fact that you have designated the solar system as the biggest system that exists.

Seth Godin:
It’s certainly the easiest one to talk about, right? Because we can argue about Pluto and that whole planet thing, but in general, there are very few solar system deniers. That the Earth goes around the Sun. And it doesn’t go around the Sun because it wants to, it goes around the Sun because gravity, gravity is invisible. Gravity is this force that keeps things working the way that they do. So, we can all acknowledge that there’s this solar system and there’s the Sun, and there’s the rotation. Well, exactly the same thing is going on at your company and exactly the same thing is going on in politics, and the same thing is going on in our food system. Right?

The food system has gravitational forces. Why is it that 25 to 30% of all food is wasted? It’s not because five-year-olds aren’t clearing their plate. It’s because there’s a system in place that rewards farmers for leaving stuff on the vine or in the truck rather than putting in the effort to do something else. And we can keep going down the list. When someone sees the system, they can change it. So, most people here don’t know who Duncan Hines was. He was a real person. Great name. Duncan Hines was a print salesperson, and he used to drive around the northeast of the United States selling printing. This is in the ’20s. And there were no health departments then. That’s a system.

Debbie Millman:
I wanted to ask you about that.

Seth Godin:
And he would eat out. And the chances that you would get sick as a salesperson on the road without knowing where to eat were pretty good, because the good restaurants you didn’t know about, and the diners, you could get food poisoning.

So, he was pretty cheap. And one year for Christmas, instead of sending people a gift, he made a directory of a bunch of restaurants that you could eat in safely, printed it up and mailed it to people. And people loved the Duncan Hines directory. So, the next year he did it again, and then he said, “Why don’t I just do this?” So, he started making a living selling the first restaurant directory in the United States. And it did well, so well that the restaurants that were listed in it paid him money to have a sign in front of the restaurant saying, “Duncan Hines says it’s safe to eat here.” So, he was basically the health department for the country. And only after that did he get a phone call from some people who said, “We see that you’re into safe food. Can we put your name on canned goods?” And only after that, did we end up with the cake mix.

So, the arc of the story is Duncan was able to do all of those things and his business is now, he’s long gone, billions of dollars of value because he saw the system and a defect in the system. McDonald’s saw the system that cars were creating and realized the world needed a restaurant chain that would be everywhere. Walt Disney saw the system that was going to move from movies to TV and invented the TV show. And so, you can see when someone shows up and sees the system under stress, they’re able to walk in.

So, what’s the biggest system change we’re seeing right now, most of the people in this room? Is AI. You can say, “Oh, AI is a threat. It’s going to take away the livelihood of people who do illustration, like me.” And the answer is, yes, it will, but you’re not going to stop it, but you are going to see all the things it’s going to change, and it’s going to create all these opportunities because when the system is under stress and changes, it needs people to show up and do something in that spot. And so, if I can help people see systems, that will be a useful tool.

Debbie Millman:
You’ve said that you believe that AI is the biggest shift in our culture since electricity. Why that comparison?

Seth Godin:
Okay. So, here’s an interesting thing about electricity. When they first brought electricity to people’s homes, they didn’t have electrical outlets, they hadn’t been invented yet. They just had the thing you screwed a light bulb into. It’s called an Edison Mount. And then, they invented the first real home appliance, which was the washing machine. And you would unscrew the light bulbs, you’d have to do it during the day, and then screw in your washing machine so it could get electricity. And washing machines are notoriously difficult to balance because they’re spinning, right? And dozens of people died because the washing machine would move itself around and then the thing would get around your neck. That had happened that slowly, but still people died from washing machine strangulation.

Debbie Millman:
Who knew?

Seth Godin:
So, there were only two kinds of businesses in those days, businesses that adopted electricity or businesses that were going to go away. And that is the shift that we’re seeing now, that there’s a huge swath of jobs where people are pushed to do average work. And average work is easy for an AI to begin to do, whether that’s reading a rudimentary X-ray or writing mediocre copy for an ad campaign. We don’t need to pay someone to do that and to wait for them because it can do it instantly and for free, and it will be distributed in lots and lots and lots of places. So, the devices, your watch, your toilet, whatever, will tell you things that we couldn’t afford to tell you before. And as a result, since we live in an information world and information is now going to be completely transformed, I think it’s that big a shift.

Debbie Millman:
You live long enough, you begin to hear some of the same fears over and over again with different content. The fear is the same, but the thing that people are fearing is different.

Seth Godin:
Yeah.

Debbie Millman:
So, I came of age as a designer in the 1980s.

Seth Godin:
Letraset.

Debbie Millman:
Oh, I still love Letraset. In any case, I hear some OGs in there too.

Seth Godin:
And some people say, “What the hell is that?”

Debbie Millman:
Look, Letraset is a type format where you have these sheets of letters and literally you press down one at a time. Back in the ’80s, type was very, very expensive. And so, I had certain clients, because the budgets were so small, I had to typeset everything with Letraset. So, you really learn a lot about kerning, very much in the kerning.

In the 1980s, we had the famous Apple ad, 1984, but computers really didn’t start making an impact in the design community until the late ’80s, which at the time, a lot of the OG designers of that era were vehemently, vehemently opposed to using the computer. They were certain that we were going to lose jobs, it was going to take all the creativity out of the process, out of the way in which we created, it was going to create soulless work. Sound familiar?

Seth Godin:
Mm-hmm.

Debbie Millman:
In fact, the computer provided a way for hundreds of thousands of people to get new jobs. When I was a little girl, I wasn’t thinking, “When I grow up, I want to be a podcaster.” I doubt that when most of the people here, if not everyone, thought when they were growing up, “I can’t wait to get on Instagram.”
And so, I think that there’s so much in your book that has an undercurrent of what we’re afraid to do because we don’t have a system and because we don’t have a strategy. How would you recommend that people start thinking about overcoming or leaning into, or doing something as if they’re not afraid, or if fear weren’t part of the equation? And I’m asking for myself too.

Seth Godin:
It’s a lovely question. I want to just highlight one thing. I’m not arguing that everything is going to be fantastic.

Debbie Millman:
Oh, I know.

Seth Godin:
And just to use your example of desktop publishing and stuff, there’s more bad design in the world than ever before. That when you give people all these tools, the average probably goes down. And there’s also more great design in the world than there’s ever been before because the tools are there.

But to answer your question, the key is the smallest viable audience and the smallest useful contribution. That it’s so tempting to believe the media and think that you’re going to be discovered by an agent, that you’re going to have a breakthrough, that your startup is going to change everything. That’s never what happens. And the question is, can you change five people? Can you be of service to one community? Can you do any work that we would miss if it were gone? That anyone would miss who wasn’t related to you? If you can do that, just a little, the risks are really low because if it doesn’t work, no one will know. And if it does work, you can do it again.

And traction is the opportunity here. So, when I’m playing with Claude and when I’m playing with various AI tools, I am under no illusion that I’m about to have a breakthrough, nor am I believing I’m going to make Picasso-level work. But you know who also didn’t make Picasso-level work? Picasso.

Debbie Millman:
Picasso.

Seth Godin:
Right? He did 10,000 paintings and only 100 of them were Picasso-level work. So, what we get to do, not have to do, get to do is these small, private failures for small groups, and then we can seduce ourselves into something that looks like bravery.

And Herbie Hancock’s autobiography is so worth reading. And he opens with a story of he’s 20-something, 21, 22 years old. Dream come true, playing for Miles Davis. Miles Davis, right after Kind of Blue. The most important famous jazz musician in the history of the world. And Herbie’s on stage, and it’s the quartet, and they’re in Germany and they’re playing. And his job is to end this solo in a way that sets Miles up for the key solo of the show. And the last measure, he blows it. He plays two clunkers. Miles is trapped. It doesn’t lead to what Miles needs to play next. And Miles plays a totally different solo.
And after the show, Herbie goes backstage, ready to be fired. He apologized to Miles, and Miles says, “Look, this is jazz. This is what we do. You didn’t set me up for the solo I expected. You set me up for the solo I played, and that’s why you’re here.” Now, if Herbie had done it again, he probably wouldn’t have been able to keep performing. But the point was that the process of doing it, of working that out, that’s why we’re here. And afterwards, you’re the Herbie Hancock, but in that moment, that’s how you become Herbie Hancock by realizing it’s not fatal to play the wrong note.

Debbie Millman:
I think it’s really important for people that are looking to understand mastery, to look at the work of Picasso, because I recently went to a Picasso museum and I was familiar with the hundred best Picasso paintings, and suddenly, I was looking at several hundred Picasso paintings.

Now, there was something really interesting about that. First of all, you begin to see that not every painting was Picasso-level painting, but what you see that is so fascinating is the process or the system that he went through to get to each stage of his long career. So, the hundred great paintings aren’t all the same style of painting. So, what you begin to see, which I thought was incredibly fascinating, were the breakthrough moments, were the breakthrough paintings that led to this magnificent new way of looking at the world, which was really mind-blowing. And it also gave me a little bit of hope because if Picasso makes a shitty painting, maybe there’s some hope for some of the other people in the world, self included, to maybe make a not-so-bad painting.

Seth Godin:
Yeah. I mean, the problem with The Doobie Brothers Greatest Hits volume one is it makes us think that our work is this curated greatest hits thing. It’s not. But after the fact, someone might make a greatest hits album of yours, but you don’t make songs for the greatest hits album. You just make the next song and then sometimes it becomes the greatest hit.

Debbie Millman:
There’s so many things that I want to talk to you about, and I think we could go for hours, and I’m really concerned about how much I want to talk to you about-

Seth Godin:
Sorry. I’ll talk less.

Debbie Millman:
… and how much time we have. What did you say? I’m sorry.

Seth Godin:
I’ll talk less.

Debbie Millman:
No, no, no, no, no, no, please. I’m talking about time. Of the four pillars, time was my favorite.

Seth Godin:
Right. Yeah.

Debbie Millman:
I mean, systems really helps me understand frameworks and it challenges my own ways of thinking about strategy. And I’ve worked in strategy for 30 years now, but the time section was revelatory.
In the late 1880s, H.G. Wells started writing about time machines. And I learned from your book that there is no record of anyone ever talking about going back in time before that. Not Aristotle.

Seth Godin:
Isn’t that mind-blowing?

Debbie Millman:
Not Plato, not Copernicus, not Newton. I was like, wow.

Seth Godin:
Yeah, he invented time travel. How could that be?

Debbie Millman:
Right?

Seth Godin:
Yeah.

Debbie Millman:
So, “In 1750,” I’m quoting you here, “if you said to someone, ‘If you can go back in time and change one thing, what would you change?’ They would not understand the question.” I remember asking you, there was a period of time a couple of years ago, maybe 10 years ago, where everybody was saying, “What would you tell your younger self? What would you tell your 30-year self?” And I asked you that, and I might’ve asked you that in a podcast interview and you said, “Nothing.” And I asked you why. Maybe you can just tell people what you said.

Seth Godin:
Because the failures, the things I forgot to do, the people I didn’t see, who I should have respected, the ways I wasted time and money. If I didn’t have those, I wouldn’t be who I am, and I’m okay with who I am. So, we can’t get to edit the past. We get to edit the future. And that’s a question that people don’t usually want to talk about.

Debbie Millman:
Why?

Seth Godin:
Because you’re on the hook again, because you actually can edit the future. And what James Gleick’s beautiful book about time travel, which is where the H.G. Wells story comes from, helped me see we don’t even have vocabulary to talk about time. Right now is right now, but yesterday was right now yesterday. So, this idea of right now is this moving thing. So, most organizations only focus on right now.
I can give you a hundred examples of this. If there’s a customer service problem and the parking garage next door is full. I pull in, the guy says, “It’s full.” And now I have to drive a block out of my way. I said, “Why don’t you have a sign?” Said, “We don’t have a sign.” Because today they don’t have a sign and they don’t have a method to fix tomorrow, because they should put up a sign, “We’re full.” It would save him the hassle, save everyone else the hassle. When we see that whatever we do now is going to change something for tomorrow, it changes not just tomorrow, but what we’re going to do now. But as a creative person or an organization, we usually ignore that. We just focus on the urgency of this moment. That’s not mindfulness, it’s just the urgency of this moment.

Debbie Millman:
Just reactionary, really.

Seth Godin:
Yeah. And so, strategy has to be what is the me or the customer of five months from now going to say thank you to me today for? Because I’m here today. Five months from now, they’re going to be touching what I just did. What am I doing that they’re going to be grateful for?

Debbie Millman:
We, as a culture, live so much thinking about the future, “When I’m this age. When I get this much money. When I’m thinner.” What is the role of time in strategy?

Seth Godin:
Well, “When I’m thinner,” could just be, and then a miracle happens, right? Or, it could be, I have a goal. Okay, so let’s say I have a goal. No one ever lost without surgery, 40 pounds in one day. You lose a little bit at a time. That idea of committing to a little bit at a time makes sense if you’re on a diet. We don’t really understand if it makes sense when we’re talking about, “Am I a good writer? Am I a good illustrator? Do I understand how to compose differently?” Because most of us are so desperate to hang on to what little talent we believe we have, that we don’t want to examine it and we don’t want to add to it.

Debbie Millman:
Or abandon it.

Seth Godin:
Or abandon it. But if we incrementally explore, as the cowbell sketch goes, the space, we can’t help but improve. But so many of the people I know who are on a creative journey, are looking backwards or have this goal of a miracle occurring, without saying, “Who do I need to become to be the kind of creative that could make that?” And it’s not going to happen because the Gagosian Gallery calls me, it’s going to happen because I become the kind of creative that they want to call.

Debbie Millman:
The role of time in our work, in our culture, in our psyche and consciousness is fundamentally changing.

Seth Godin:
Yeah.

Debbie Millman:
You can go to AI and get information, answers to questions, questions to ask in milliseconds, however, there then becomes an expectation that mastery and success come as quickly. And I was in a situation a little while ago where I was talking to someone about their building their community, their little tribe. And she was really feeling quite dejected in that she was having trouble building the community in the speed at which she wanted. And I said, “Well, how long have you been doing this?” And she said, “Six weeks.” I’m like, “Try six years.”

How can we best create a way for people to understand, without sounding too much like a Rolling Stone song, that time is really on our side when we want to make change?

Seth Godin:
Oh. So, everyone has an origin story, Peter Parker and the radioactive spider, or Superman and Krypton. But the origin story is the story we tell ourselves because lots of things happen to lots of people, but the one we rehearse for ourselves over and over again becomes our origin story. And I have a bunch of origin stories, but one of them is my first year in book publishing. So, my first book with Chip Conley, the first day for $5,000. He got half. I got half. I thought, “Wow, if I do this every two weeks, I’ll be okay.”

Debbie Millman:
Six weeks maybe.

Seth Godin:
And then, I got 800 rejection letters in a row. 800 times someone in New York book publishing bought a stamp, put it on an envelope, wrote me a letter and said, “We don’t like you.” And the thing is that if I had gotten the same rejection letter that many times in a row, I would’ve been a spammer and a hustler, and I would’ve been annoying. But that’s not what was happening. What was happening is the rejection letters were getting better. They were getting better because they were teaching me something and showing that I was learning something. That as that year went on, I had traction.

The traction wasn’t the traction of, “Here’s a check, please go write the book.” But it was the traction of, “I read the whole thing and this part doesn’t really work for us,” versus, “No.” And that interaction, which was socially acceptable on both sides, I wasn’t sending book proposals to people that didn’t want to get them, and they were responding to me as professionals. That traction is still available to all of us. The difference now is it tends to be seen, we think, by everyone, not true. And it happens much quicker.
So, my mom, who passed away way too young, was the first woman on the board of the Albright-Knox in Buffalo, a really important art museum. And she wanted to bring members of the community in Buffalo who didn’t come to the museum, to try the museum. This was before the Antiques Roadshow with Sotheby’s and all that stuff. So, I don’t know what made her think of it, but she reached out to the people at Sotheby’s and said, “Would you send two appraisers to Buffalo? And we’ll do a day where people can bring stuff from their attic, and Sotheby’s appraisers will tell them if it’s worth anything.” And she did a little bit of PR for it, and it was going to be on Saturday. And I remember that Friday, she got home from work and I must’ve been 13, and she said, “I’m a little nervous. What if no one comes? What if I’ve done this and I’m embarrassed?” And then, typical for her, she brightened up and she said, “Well, if no one comes, no one will know that no one came.”

Debbie Millman:
When no one comes, no one will know that no one came.

Seth Godin:
And the next morning there were 5,000 people waiting in line.

Debbie Millman:
So, let’s talk about that moment for a second, because if no one comes, no one will know that no one came, except you.

Seth Godin:
Right.

Debbie Millman:
And then-

Seth Godin:
So, you’ve learned one more thing.

Debbie Millman:
You’ve learned one more thing if you’re open to learning one more thing. If you’re open to the idea that failure doesn’t mean forever.

Seth Godin:
Right.

Debbie Millman:
But for a lot of people, and for me, when I was going through what was decades of what I now call experiments in failure and rejection, it becomes something that I think a lot of people feel shame about. And that shame does a couple of things. First, I think that it makes you feel like nothing is possible. It makes you feel or it allows you or causes you to feel powerless.

Seth Godin:
Yeah.

Debbie Millman:
And it also is something that a lot of people hide.

Seth Godin:
Yes.

Debbie Millman:
So, when I was, back in the ’80s again, I was rejected back to back from the Columbia School of Journalism for a master’s degree, and a master’s program in independent art from the Whitney. It was a program that they had just launched.

I spent a lot of time hoping, hoping that I would get accepted. And when I didn’t, rather than share my sorrow, heartbreak with anyone that would listen, the way I might now, I hid it. I was like, “Oh, I didn’t really know if I wanted to go anyway.” And I think that’s just, I used to beat myself up for that. I can’t believe that I was so duplicitous. Now, I just look back and I think, “Oh, I was just really sad and didn’t want to share that with anybody.” And now I feel better about sharing my sadness, for good and for bad for my wife.

Seth Godin:
Oh, there’s so many good things in this. And your generosity in the way you’ve talked about shame over the years is so important.

Debbie Millman:
I mean, I just feel that that is one of the biggest system barriers. I mean, shame is a system and it’s-

Seth Godin:
Yeah. It’s a dream killer, and it’s a life snuffer. And it’s not a choice, though sometimes it feels like it, but we can build a system to diminish the feeling, because if we can build a practice that helps us see that we are playing a game, you were not rejected, your application was rejected. Those are two totally different things. And so, we get back to traction and we get back to, who is this for? So, if you are busy trying to please your in-laws by bringing them back some trophy that proves that you are onto something, you’re making a mistake. It’s none of their business. We need to leave them out of the circle.

Here you are in this room surrounded by people in a similar setting. You, before you leave here, should find two or three strangers and start a circle where you can tell each other the truth, because they’re the people who can help you see where you are building a system that feels too personal. So, one of the four things is games, and I just want to bring it up briefly. I launched a game two weeks ago called Bongo.

Debbie Millman:
I love it. It’s really hard though.

Seth Godin:
It’s so much fun. It’s not hard. That’s my point. That’s my point. Okay?

Debbie Millman:
I set that up really well.

Seth Godin:
You can find it at bongo.fun or puzzmo.com. If you go to puzzmo.com, you can play this game. It’s free. It’s not hard because there’s no right answer. There’s just a better answer. And what I have discovered watching people play it is some people say, “I put down five words. I didn’t do very well.” As opposed to saying, “I put down five words. How could I move some letters around to make it better?” It is a game about traction that unlike Wordle, there is no right answer. You can just ask a friend, “How do I make this better?” The same thing is true for an oil painting or a symphony. How can I make this better? Better for who? Better by what standards? Where is the traction?

The leap of, “I got picked, I got in, I got certified.” That’s a trap. Don’t look for the leap. Look for the stepwise game process of, “I made a move. It didn’t work. No one showed up. What move could I make differently tomorrow?” “This system is looking for this kind of game strategy. Oh, when I do this, I learn that. I can do it this way tomorrow.” So, when we realize the strategy is about playing a game that dances with the system over time, now our work will be more productive.

Debbie Millman:
How does a game help us better understand time?

Seth Godin:
Well, no one makes all the moves in a game at once. So, your eighth move in a game of chess is different than your first move because the word has changed. The same thing is true with your work as a creative. The same thing is true in your work in social media. If you decided to try to make a meme out of Rick and Rickrolling people, it wouldn’t work today because we already have it. Whereas, if you had done that earlier, it would’ve made a difference.

So, all of this keeps unfolding. We make moves over time, and that means we have to forgive the old moves. Those are sunk costs. It doesn’t matter that you have a law degree. You needed that before. You don’t need it now. Forgive yourself. You don’t have to accept that law degree from the former you. You can go do the thing you need to do now. But it all comes down to service, to empathy. Who is this for? They’re not going to like it because it’s important to me. They’re going to like it because it’s important to them. So, given the world as it is today, with the assets you have today, with the world as you see it today, what moves will you make that over time you’ll be glad you did?

Debbie Millman:
That does seem like an apropos time to stop for now.

Seth Godin:
For now.

Debbie Millman:
But I am going to ask one last question because it’s something I really want to know. After those 800 rejection letters, or during the process of the time that it took to get 800 rejection letters, what kept you going? What gave you the sense that it was worth it not to give up?

Seth Godin:
It’s a little complicated, but here we go.

Debbie Millman:
Okay.

Seth Godin:
I, first of all, continue to encourage people, “Don’t quit your day job.” So, I had no day job, but I had enough side things that I was able to do that I wasn’t indigent. I don’t see that you don’t get any points, as far as I’m concerned, living in an attic somewhere. You should adjust your standard of living to match your approach, so that you can be resilient at it. It was a struggle because I was very close to bankruptcy for 10 years, but close because I got to the point where I had enough resources to try the next thing.
But the second thing I did was, I invented in my head that if I didn’t do this, I would have to be a bank teller, because I knew I could get a job as a bank teller. And a bank teller felt like something that I would hate so much that I, emotionally, would feel like such a failure, but also, I would be so bad at it that it made it easier to go get rejected again than to do that.

Debbie Millman:
Thank you, Seth. It is always such a joy and an honor to talk with you. And I want to thank you so much for being here, for your generosity in sharing your book with the entire audience here, and for being a friend.

Seth Godin:
Thank you.

Debbie Millman:
Thank you, Seth Godin.

Seth Godin:
Thank you, Debbie.

Curtis Fox:
Design Matters is produced for the TED Audio Collective by Curtis Fox Productions. The interviews are usually recorded at the Masters in Branding Program at the School of Visual Arts in New York City, the first and longest-running branding program in the world. The editor-in-chief of Design Matters Media is Emily Weiland.

The post Design Matters: Seth Godin appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Debbie Millman:
Scott Dadich is a designer, a magazine editor, and a filmmaker. He was the Creative Director of Texas Monthly magazine before he became the Creative Director of WIRED magazine. He worked with Apple and Adobe to create the WIRED tablet edition and oversaw the development of Conde Nast digital magazine storytelling, which included the New Yorker‘s iPad edition as well. Scott was then appointed Editor-in-Chief of WIRED magazine where he brought someone named Barack Obama in to guest edit an issue, and he did this while Barack Obama was still President. Scott has created and produced the multi-Emmy nominated series for Netflix called Abstract: The Art of Design. More recently, he founded and is now CEO of Godfrey Dadich Partners, a brand strategy and design company. Scott Dadich, welcome to Design Matters.

Scott Dadich:
Debbie, thank you so much for having me. This is a total thrill.

Debbie Millman:
Oh, for me too. Scott, I have a quite specific first question for you. Is it true you measure the precise temperature of the water that you use to brew your coffee with?

Scott Dadich:
This is true. Yes, this is true. I was gifted a beautiful Fellow kettle a few years ago by its designers, very good friends of mine, Josh Morenstein and Nick Cronan over at Branch. And I found out that once I got that temperature right to 187 and had been starting to measure my beans, that it was the perfect pour over ritual for me. So a combination of strength of coffee and speed of delivery and yes, I’m just a little bit obsessive as you can tell.

Debbie Millman:
I kind of like that. I will share some of my obsessive tendencies with you as well to even more deeply bond. But curious to know if you really can tell the difference between 186 and 188?

Scott Dadich:
That is not a thing that my palate is so finely tuned to. This is a bit of laziness. This is the exact temperature that I can start drinking it as soon as I finish brewing it, I don’t have to wait for it to cool off. So if you extra beans in there and you get the strength you’re looking for, but the speed of caffeine intake is augmented.

Debbie Millman:
I also understand you organize your sneakers and your iPhone apps by color and it bothers you when the canned beverages in your office refrigerator aren’t positioned so that the labels all face outwards.

Scott Dadich:
Oh, boy. Yes. You have your sources, don’t you?

Debbie Millman:
Well, I was so happy to see this because I’m like that too with labels. So in my shower, all of the shampoo and soap and all of that, all of the bottles need to be facing outwards, and all the sort of pumps need to be facing in a certain direction. And when Roxane and I first got together and she saw me do that, she was like, “Whoa.” A little Sleeping With the Enemy I think- [inaudible 00:03:24]

Scott Dadich:
This is entirely irrational-

Debbie Millman:
I don’t know if you’re familiar with that movie.

Scott Dadich:
Yes.

Debbie Millman:
Like, “What do you mean? It has to be neat. It has to be an-” [inaudible 00:03:30]

Scott Dadich:
This is how the world works or it should work.

Debbie Millman:
Absolutely. I can tell when something is a millimeter off on a table, if the vase is not in the right position or the glasses aren’t exactly right, and when I saw this I thought, “Oh my god, my kindred spirit.”

Scott Dadich:
There are more people like you, Debbie. Yes, I am one of them.

Debbie Millman:
Scott, you grew up in Lubbock, is that how you pronounce it-

Scott Dadich:
Lubbock.

Debbie Millman:
Lubbock, Texas. Lubbock, Texas.

Scott Dadich:
Yes. Lubbock, Texas.

Debbie Millman:
And what you’ve described was a house stacked with magazines. What was your family reading at that time?

Scott Dadich:
My mom was a nursing instructor and professor at School of Medicine at Texas Tech, so she always had textbooks around. My dad was a voracious reader as well, so there was always ephemera and my mom was grading papers, but magazines were a big part of that reading and that sort of lifestyle. I remember very explicitly having Martha Stewart Living show up at the house and I don’t remember the exact year, but it was a revelation to go through those pages.

Speaking of finding joy in ordering things and color organization and the sort of frameworks that Martha and Gail were providing in its pages, that was just an amazing discovery for me. But I remember getting Texas Monthly at the checkout stand at the local grocery store. I remember the first time I started subscribing to Road and Track magazine and having that come in the mailbox every month. It just felt like this blast from the future, this sort of letter from the future that got to arrive and what was a pretty sleepy sort of town and a simple lifestyle, simple people, good people, but it was getting that window into what felt like a much bigger and broader world that was so compelling.

Debbie Millman:
I loved when Martha Stewart repositioned housekeeping to home keeping and I felt that was-

Scott Dadich:
Yes. Wasn’t that brilliant?

Debbie Millman:
Yeah, so much more respectful to the craft.

Scott Dadich:
Well, and finding a joy in a study, a photo study. Looking at the different hues and colors of eggs. It was just like, what a beautiful idea, and it just caused you to slow down and take life in a different way and really take and note the observations of form and color, utility in ways that I don’t think I’d ever contemplated before.

Debbie Millman:
I read that you discovered quite a bit of joy in the pages of Martha Stewart Living and now I understand. I was going to ask you why and eggs. That’s all we need to know, eggs.

Scott Dadich:
Eggs. It all comes back to eggs.

Debbie Millman:
Now, the first magazine you bought yourself was the August 1994 issue of WIRED magazine. Why that magazine and why that particular issue?

Scott Dadich:
Oh my God, I remember that really explicitly. The chance to be at Book People, this wonderful bookstore in Austin and I didn’t have any money at all and I would scrape together coins out of the couch cushion to basically go and see what magazine I could buy. And my roommate and I were obsessed with Myst, the PC game. And I think this magazine had random Robin Miller on the cover of it was Blue, it was that classic sort of WIRED severe photo angle and neon inks. And I probably stood there reading the magazine at the bookstore, but it was one of those that absolutely made it to the cash wrap and I think the $4 left in my pocket to make sure I took that back to the dorm, that magazine, it was a really compelling moment for me to sort of understand that there were these huge worlds out there and people creating those worlds, designing them and the sort of compelling packaging of that experience. And that magazine in particular was just a total revelation for me.

Debbie Millman:
You said that at that very moment you fell in love with what magazines could do and reading that reminded me that I had one of those moments as well. My mom always got McCall’s and Ladies Home Journal and I loved reading them. I loved the Betsy McCall paper dolls that you can cut out in the back of the magazine and of course, can this marriage be saved, from Ladies Home Journal. But she had a very, very wealthy friend named Carolyn, and every now and then she would invite us over to swim in her pool and I must’ve been about 12, 13 years old and Carolyn had a subscription to Vogue and that is the moment I fell in love with magazines and could not believe that women looked like Patty Hansen.

Scott Dadich:
It’s such a transformative moment. It really feels like… Our friend DJ Stout calls that variations on a rectangle, but I still love that idea that that page, that rectangle can transport you in time and space to meet these fabulous people like Patty or Randa- [inaudible 00:08:44]

Debbie Millman:
Absolutely.

Scott Dadich:
There’s something really special about that format.

Debbie Millman:
Now, you were also interested in cars and racing and you built so many model cars, your entire bedroom looked like a model making factory. And you’ve said that the magazine Motor Trend and Road & Track also became what you described as a lifeline out of Lubbock, and I’m wondering why you felt like you needed a lifeline?

Scott Dadich:
That’s a great question. I found so much joy in making and craft and I started probably with model planes, but the cars ended up speaking to me more because probably some of the design elements, the flashy colors and the swooping curves and the sort of sex appeal of sports cars and being able to design them and make them myself with my own hands in my bedroom was an amazing discovery for me. If I’m honest about growing up in Lubbock, while there were wonderful people and it was a very safe and sort of quaint place to grow up, there wasn’t a lot of activity. I remember being bored quite a bit. It’s a farming town, really honest folks working the land and trying to do their best to make it in sometimes a very harsh environment. The weather is strange and the storms are big, but when you look at the landscape, I don’t remember seeing a mountain or big trees for a long, long time, probably into middle school or high school, and I don’t remember going to the ocean until I was probably late high school.
So the idea that there was this world out there, again, that sort of perspective into other fields and pursuits, and I think probably I’m not alone in finding so much vision and appeal in motor racing in particular. The sort of white knuckling and the thrills and the crashes and also the design elements really spoke to me. That’s why I love F1 today, and the deliveries, and the performance issues, and the off-track drama, and the racing line, and the physics of it all. It really sort of tied together so many passions and interests for me.

Debbie Millman:
At that point did you consider doing something professionally with cars, whether it be a driver or designer?

Scott Dadich:
I didn’t in terms of a racing career, I’d never had the resources even to contemplate that, that could be a possibility. But I definitely got the bug around car design and I remember that I was good at math, and science in school and I had good grades there, and speaking to high school guidance counselors and friends and being encouraged to look into that idea. And again, the magazines that I had been exposed to were really vehicles to think about how that might be possible, whether that was going to engineering school, pursuing mechanical engineering, getting a job in Detroit, that was one of the… I remember one of the early ideas that could be a path for me to pursue that passion. Ultimately, it wasn’t the math part of it. While I was good at it, I just didn’t find the interest in it and it wasn’t sort of the vector into what ultimately I was able to discover in design being my passion.

Debbie Millman:
Well, you excelled so much at math and science. Your high school guidance counselor really encouraged your parents to push you towards a career in mechanical engineering and you ended up getting a scholarship to I believe the University of Texas.

Scott Dadich:
That’s right.

Debbie Millman:
Did you turn that scholarship down?

Scott Dadich:
Eventually I did. I went the first year as a freshman and began that coursework. University of Texas, a great school, but what I found really through that first and second semester, that wasn’t the right school for me. I was in massive math classes with a thousand people in beginning coursework and then doing homework late hours and early hours. And the sort of complexities and it was really the first time that I was pulled away from ultimately that safe environment of Lubbock. It was a lot. I was also sick. I was suffering from anorexia at the time, so I wasn’t eating and I wasn’t healthy. So it was sort of a combinatory effect of being in the wrong path, needing to focus on getting well and addressing the issues underlying the anorexia. And finding something a little bit closer to what would ultimately be my path.

I dropped out of engineering school and dropped some of my math coursework and started to look at radio, television and film and took some classes there that spring semester. But ultimately it was a decision and supported really by incredible healthcare providers at University of Texas to withdraw and re-enroll at Texas Tech and basically start over. I moved back in with my best friend from high school and we got an apartment. And just basically start with a clean slate and figure out what was going to be my path because engineering wasn’t going to be it even though the skill mesh was sort of there on paper.

Debbie Millman:
How did your parents feel about this pivot?

Scott Dadich:
I don’t know. I think they were pretty upset. We didn’t come from any means and my mom worked really hard, as did my dad. So to have a scholarship provided to me and the grades that I had worked hard to get in high school that facilitated that, that was something I had to put on the shelf and walk away from, I think was pretty tough. Ultimately though, they were supportive of the decision and provided me with the space to go figure it out. And as I was becoming an older human being and making decisions for myself, they really stepped back to let me make those mistakes and make those affirmations and make the choices that ultimately would lead me to some success.

Debbie Millman:
As I was doing my research and came across some of the information that you’ve just shared, I was struck by how hard that must have been, but also how much courage it took to really take a stand for your own life despite not knowing what could unfold. That’s really, really incredible to say I don’t want to do what’s come so easy to me, to do something I yet have discovered I want to do. It really is quite remarkable, especially what ultimately how your life has unfurled.

Scott Dadich:
Well, thank you, Debbie. It was scary. I remember basically feeling that I had no choice and that if I stayed on that path and kept doing what I was doing that I wouldn’t survive. Just to be really blunt about it, I remember trying to walk up the hill from my dorm room at University of Texas to the cafeteria to get my one meal a day and not being able to go up the hill. I literally couldn’t. I didn’t have the strength to go up and there were a couple moments where I was like, this has got to stop. So something profound has got to change and again, that I had great healthcare at University of Texas to be able to support that decision. Saved my life. I mean, full stop.

Debbie Millman:
You moved in with your best friend that you just mentioned and he was working at the very first bagel shop in all of Lubbock and you got a job there as a bagel maker. And went in every day at three in the morning, made the bagels, got everything ready for the day and then went on to school. How did you manage that pace?

Scott Dadich:
That was a lot, but I think coming out of the trauma of being ill and the reset on schooling, it provided me with a new sense of control and it’s been a lot of therapy to unpack this and the control issues that often are at the root of an eating disorder, like the one that I’ve struggled with. That safety of that space to come in, open the shop up, I’m the only one there. It’s dark. I can put some music on and I can create and make with my hands in a very sort of solitary and focused and controlled environment and that my delivery was important. That I had to be there and the shop had to get opened up and Phil and Mary and the owners of the shop would be there and get the cash register going in the morning. I felt a great sense of responsibility.

So it put some new guardrails in place where I think I was looking for other kinds of guardrails and other mechanisms and behaviors. And I would also credit that environment and the structure and the culture and the support that I got from my bosses, the owners of the shop and my colleagues there was also part of my healing journey. And also to be around food again honestly, and to be making food actually provided me a little bit of safety to contemplate what I was doing as an individual.

Debbie Millman:
I’m wondering if you can tell us about the day the owner, I believe Marian told you about a sign painter arriving the next day to make signs for the bagel shop.

Scott Dadich:
This was one of those, you can’t believe it kind of moments, but I’ve talked to Marian about this since then that she did. She let me know that there’d be a sign painter coming in and the shop was new. I mean this was a completely new enterprise, Phil and Marion, these wonderful people who had just recently moved to Lubbock and had this dream to open this bagel bakery. So there were various improvements happening all the time. A fresh coat of paint here or a new cash register there, some new tables and chairs. So it was a very entrepreneurial effort. It was like a very family literally a mom-and-pop shop. And Marion told me about that sign painter coming in and I was struggling. I was working hard as I could, but still I think probably making it on four or 500 bucks a month in pay, and I just leapt at the chance to make a few extra dollars.

So I offered to Marion to say, “Whatever, you’re going to pay that sign painter, pay me half and I’ll do it because I’m good at lettering and my engineering coursework.” And just having some experience in liking to draw in high school, I figured that I could do that and had some facility to do that. So Marian called my bluff and said, “Well, okay, well here’s the menu boards. I’ll get you some markers and chalks and you can go at it.” So I stayed up all night one night and bled into the morning making the bagels the next day and had the signs all ready to go.

And one of our regular customers, a woman named Sonia Aguirre came in and she asked about the new boards. “Oh, I love the new menu boards, who did those?” And Marion points at me in the back and I’m there making bagels, and I think at this time I’m 19, maybe just 20. And Sonia came back and she said, “I started my career as a sign painter and you’ve got some skill kid.” And she gave me a business card and she said, “I’m an art director at this ad agency in town. You should come see me and maybe I’ll set you up with an internship.” And I didn’t know at all what an art director was. I didn’t know that that could be a job let alone that this would be one of my life’s passions. Went to go see Sonia and sure enough she saw kindly on me and gave me an unpaid internship. So my first task was to learn QuarkXPress-

Debbie Millman:
Oh, QuarkXPress.

Scott Dadich:
She and the design director, this guy named Mike Meister that gave me… My first job was to set classified ads, so those little three-line classified ads looking for a dog groomer, selling a car, and I just loved typesetting and the rest is sort of history. It was that opportunity from the bagel boards into classified ads where my love of letter forms and setting type was affirmed just through some random happenstance of a sign painting incident.

Debbie Millman:
Now I understand you also became enraptured with Photoshop.

Scott Dadich:
Oh. Yeah.

Debbie Millman:
And tell us about those collages.

Scott Dadich:
Well, this was probably a few months later, maybe even a semester later because after I had taken the design internship, Mike and Sonia actually offered me a job. So I was able to work less at the bagel shop and actually start working at the agency and I shifted my major. I actually went into a design communications track and one of the first and early coursework pathways there was in the Macintosh and learning the creative suite, and this was brand new at the time. I remember the instructor at the time had just procured eight new Macintosh’s for the computer lab, and this was a radical delivery for the design school at Texas Tech. And we had lab hours and the whole nine yards, but Photoshop really captured my attention. We had one scanner and I’m still a hardcore reader of Road & Track and Car and Driver, and I would take my magazines in and scan them and then start creating Photoshop collages that were the rage at the time.

You would see these terrible ads in their pages, and I would try to recreate those. The Viper GTS with this electric blue and these big white racing stripes really captured my fancy and I would just go and spend hours and hours and hours scanning and working in Photoshop and adding layers. And that was another sort of passion point for me where the things started to click together between the love of cars and design and the technical aspects of design, the tools of design. And the technological aspects of having new tools like a Macintosh and the Creative Suite, I don’t even know if it was called the Creative Suite. We had Photoshop, we had Illustrator.

Debbie Millman:
Exactly. Yeah. Well, I think you thought at the time that you could make a whole career out of making the collages and you called it becoming a Photoshop jockey.

Scott Dadich:
I don’t know where I came up with that, but…

Debbie Millman:
I love that so much.

Scott Dadich:
I had to be… I thought this… There were still these lingering dreams of getting to Detroit and getting into the car business and this was sort of one hair-brained idea that maybe I had not been able to pursue the engineering pathway, but maybe the artistic one would be the one that ultimately got me there.

Debbie Millman:
During your senior year at Texas Tech, you were recruited to produce some communication materials for the university, and I believe this is where you first met the legendary designer DJ Stout, who was at that point, the longtime art director at Texas Monthly and was also a Texas Tech alum. What was that first meeting like with him?

Scott Dadich:
DJ came into one of our design classes, so Frank and Jane Cheatham were the August leaders of the design communications program at Texas Tech, and DJ was even then just a legendary alum. So much so that there was a case or bulletin board the sort of the shrine to DJ and his work, all of his layouts and posters and ephemera and magazines at the time produced a lot of those materials and books to sort of support the publication. So all of those got pinned up and I remember one day we were told that the guy who did all of that with the big point toward the shrine, the DJ Shrine was going to come talk to us, so you better be at class that day. And sure enough, DJ came in. There must’ve been 12 or 15 of us at a tiny class, and DJ showed us some slides and he had a whole presentation and talked about his path and his design process and showed us his sketchbooks and working with people like Dan Winters and I just was absolutely smitten.

So the dots started to click for me that even thinking back to Martha Stewart or Texas Monthly, this thing that had been on the coffee table at my parents’ house was made by folks like this guy. I just made it a point to get to know him. So approached him after the talk and asked for his email and asked to stay in touch. And DJ and the enormous generosity that he’s always provided me and so many other students, again, kind of like Sonya took kindly on me and agreed to meet with me. So that was the first meeting of what ultimately ended up being many and a conversation that has gone on for years and years. I actually just talked to DJ last week, so it’s just such a treat to have him in my life and what a privilege that he has been so generous with me.

Debbie Millman:
In early 2000, DJ left Texas Monthly to become a partner at Pentagram and recommended you for the job at Texas Monthly. What was that like for you?

Scott Dadich:
That was even to this day, even reflecting you described that moment, I still get chills about that. I remember so explicitly getting that email from DJ. So we had stayed in touch and with the alumni communications and the work I was doing at Texas Tech and for Texas Tech at that time, I had good reason to sort of be down there and be in touch with him and I would send him layouts. I was working on the university’s research magazine, a science magazine called Vistas. So I would seek DJ’s input and send him the latest issues and he’d say, “Good job,” or “You missed the mark on that one.” And he was very, very kind with his time and we had met or something, he had indicated that some change was going to be coming ahead and when it came time for him to leave and he announced and he let me know that he’d be going across town to open the Pentagram office, he had introduced me to the leadership and the editor in chief Greg Curtis. So I made my way down and was invited to an interview.

Debbie Millman:
What do you think DJ saw in you at the time to make that recommendation?

Scott Dadich:
That’s a great question. I look back at the work and I don’t see it. I don’t know what I was… Probably a curiosity enough. There was no craft there. I was still a student really in trying to figure out my own design voice and frankly, most of the layouts that I was producing for Vistas were just copies of WIRED magazine. Literally trying to duplicate what I was seeing in other forms and formats, bringing in colors and grid systems and working with great photographers like the ones I was able to at Texas Monthly. I started to learn how to direct and how to assign the craft of a magazine. So perhaps it was curiosity, perhaps it was a bit of passion, certainly a bit of hubris and thinking that I might be capable of doing something like that. But I think there’s also something about young folks growing up in Texas and being close to the land and the place and the ideas that are shared in that publication that I had an affinity for the stories that were being told, it was much more probably that overlap than it was anything craft related.

Debbie Millman:
You spent six years as art director of Texas Monthly and have said that Evan Smith, the editor-in-chief, taught you how to be a journalist and how to write and how to edit. How did he help you do that in your role as art director?

Scott Dadich:
Evan was and has been like a big brother to me. It was funny, because I interviewed with his predecessor, Greg Curtis, and then I got the job. And then I think it was like a week later, Greg announced that he was retiring and that Evan was taking over. So Evan as a first time editor in chief, me as a first time leader in the creative department, we had a bit of figuring out to do. And I remember we’d had just in incredible rouse and arguments and shouting fights about design theories and headlines and who wanted to win this battle versus that and what was going to go on the cover. And there was a great affection I think there that developed really quickly and I just saw what an incredible mind Evan was, but even more what a masterful newsroom, what an incredible group of journalists was able to do together.

People like Pamela Colloff or Mimi Swartz or John Spong or Skip Hollandsworth, Greg and Gary Cartwright. Getting to read these manuscripts and seeing these and knowing these people as human beings and knowing what the reporting cycle and process was. And then watching Evan work as an editor to help shape and hone a lineup or a headline and the generosity commitment to supporting one another, “And this could be a little bit better. We could do this, but this layout could be more easy to understand or this headline could be clear.” There was just a real generosity in the interplay between all those different disciplines.

Debbie Millman:
You were there for six years and then went on to become the creative director at WIRED. Was that something you pursued or was that another serendipitous type of experience in your life?

Scott Dadich:
It was a little bit of both. I remember feeling a bit restless at Texas Monthly at that point. I had started to enter some of our layouts into design competitions and I was invited to the Society of Publication designers in New York and had started to meet other folks like me in the magazine business. And was really starting to hear the siren song of the New York publishing scene and had many, many friends saying, “You can do this. You should come out, try to get a job out here.”

And I’d interviewed a couple of times, I remember being close and in some contention for a job at Esquire at one point and not getting it and feeling pretty low about that because Esquire at that point was really one of the great magazines in my life and something I really enjoyed consuming every inch, of every word within it. So I was down in the mouth and probably pouting a bit and being a bit of a spoiled brat when I got a call from some folks at WIRED that there was an opening coming up, and unfortunately, Darren, the previous creative director, had passed away. So there was a search and there’s sort of a moment of pause and reflect and think about what the future of WIRED was going to be. So again, sort of serendipity and kind of can’t believe it back in reflection that that opportunity existed at that time.

Debbie Millman:
You started at WIRED in 2006 and speaking of awards, beginning in 2008, you became the first person to win both the National Magazine Award for Design and the Society of Publication Designers Magazine of the Year Award for three consecutive years. How did you get so good at designing magazines?

Scott Dadich:
This was a team sport. I mean, just through and through some bizarre combination of time, and place, and team, and having colleagues around me that loved magazines as much as I did. Whether that was Wyatt Mitchell or Bob Cone, and again, that sort of spirit and esprit de corps of an incredible newsroom coming together that every word could be argued over, every color choice, every design decision could be obsessed over.

And being at a point in my life where I could work 18 hours a day and had the stamina, and had the interest in doing that and getting an apartment literally across the street from the magazine, so I could roll out of bed and go to work and do it all over again every single day. Wyatt was so important to that work and really shared in all of those successes in particular as a manager, as a friend, as a leader, as someone who could mentor a team of younger folks coming into their craft, of me who was probably too precocious in many ways and too ambitious on a bunch of other ways, but it was entirely a team sport. This was nothing to do with an individual achievement.

Debbie Millman:
Nevertheless, it is a feat as someone who has judged those competitions numerous times, not back then, but more in the last couple of years. Those are hard awards to win and the competition is fierce. You’re talking about the New York Times and New York Magazine and list goes on and on and on, New Yorker. So it is quite a feat, and I don’t want our listeners to not understand that part.

In any case, in the summer of 2009, two years after the launch of the iPhone, you went to Apple headquarters. And the rumor at the time was that Apple was working on a larger touchscreen device, and I read that you commissioned an actual physical mock-up of what you thought and expected it to look like. Estimating everything from the screen size and aspect ratio to the weight of the battery, then devised a visual design user interface and interface architecture for the still hypothetical touch screen tablet. And then presented the mock-up to Apple along with a video presentation. So I have like 8 million questions for you. What gave you the impetus to do this? And then I guess the next question is what was their reaction?

Scott Dadich:
Well, it all started with a conversation with Chris Anderson, the editor-in-chief at the time. It was during a performance review, so I was having my annual review and Chris was always keen to say, “You need to step it up and what are your next ambitions? And this is WIRED. We have to always be inventing, always be pressing ahead. If we don’t have the future here yet, we need to invent it, we need to go make it.” And I had sort of had these rumblings thinking about what a high fidelity magazine experience would look like in a touchscreen, and having had used the iPhone at this time for a couple of years really could start to see how this would work. There was also a factor where, again, speaking of control issues, the wire.com experience was not actually overseen by the magazine staff. So we’d send the magazine to the printer every month and then we’d put it on a series of discs and print it out in a binder and literally walk it across the hall to this other team, and they would put it on the internet.

And that felt bad for everybody I think. It didn’t give us the design agency, it wasn’t journalistically sound, it really wasn’t a fit for our readership. So there was a lot of thinking about what if we could just control the whole chain and what if the same team of people could actually apply the magazine vision and the magazine process to something that felt more akin to the glitz and the precision and the immersion of a really beautiful printed magazine experience. So one of my colleagues, a designer that I still work with today, Margaret Swart and I, we carved off some of our monthly illustrator budget and took a couple extra cycles to think about, “Well, what would this do and what would this look like and how would we lay out a magazine?” And we produced some digital prototypes and animated them and actually rendered out what basically looked like a giant iPhone at that time.

And that ended up being a thing that we narrated and we had some video capabilities at WIRED, and put together basically a little sizzle reel demo thing. And there were a lot of vision demos on starting to crop up on YouTube at that time, so by no means a unique phenomenon, but through the Conde Nast relationships, through emergent conversations that we’re starting to develop at Apple, at Adobe, we found ourselves in Cupertino that summer and meeting with certain executives that took interest in it I think to a point that we began a conversation that emerged later with what became the WIRED app.

Debbie Millman:
So you began working with Apple and Adobe to first create the WIRED tablet edition. How much of your original mocked up design was similar to what Apple had already been making or creating as they were developing their tablet or developing the iPad?

Scott Dadich:
Yeah, I think a key distinction here is that Conde Nast as the magazine side of the equation, as the creator side of the equation had a really strong relationship with Adobe as the tool authors and the tool creators. So we were paired with a really brilliant team of designers, and producers, and technologists to think about the technical aspects of that, and that’s really where the iPad or the tablet vision was starting to form in terms of what is this device? If it’s not Apple, someone’s going to do this. We had met with HP at the time, and there were many, many conversations about large touchscreen devices.

The Apple conversation was distinct and Apple and Adobe were not getting along at the time. So there was some brokerage of us saying, “As the narrative designers, as the journalists, as the magazine makers, we need you both to play nice because there is something at the heart of this idea.” And it came from that, and ultimately it didn’t look exactly like what we had sketched out that summer before, but there were a lot of commonalities and there was certainly a lot wrong with it. It was a very much a 1.0 idea and expression, but a lot of that we were able to think about, “Well, that’s one issue. Let’s try it again in the next issue, we’ll move on.” That goes away and we get another chance to try it again. So it was a highly iterative season and for ultimately what ended up being several years.

Debbie Millman:
Shortly thereafter, you were named Vice President of editorial platforms for WIRED parent company, Conde Nast, and there you led the development of all of the Conde Nast Digital magazine storytelling. This was fairly epic as it was the first example of a major publisher re-imagining the print experience for the touchscreen format. And at the time you just talked about the experimentation and the iteration and 1.0 and so forth. Did you have a strong sense of what you wanted this platform to be, and then work to iterate toward that? Or were you iterating each sort of phase to maximize the potential of each individual phase?

Scott Dadich:
A little bit of both or a little bit of all of it. In the assignment to work with the whole portfolio of Conde Nast publications, we found and we designed a series of experiences and feature ads that were specific to the platform. So for example, Golf Digest is as a magazine predicated on service journalism on teaching. So you can imagine having video formats and how-to’s and explainers for the game of golf would push the tooling and would push the technical aspects of what we were actually delivering in the file format. And what we’re delivering in the experiential side of is this more of a video experience or is this something you continue to read versus the New Yorker, which would be a weekly, and really text driven, and needed to be lightweight, and needed to download in the background, and needed to be assimilated into a highly technical weekly printing process. Make sure that that magazine is hitting people’s mailboxes and newsstands that Monday morning.

So there were different technical challenges as we worked our way through the building, but then there were also narrative challenges and there was also a sort of platform challenge that we needed this to scale. So that really came full circle when we started working with colleagues and even competitors in the industry across town at other publishing houses, trying to lever Adobe and Apple into creating some standards that would make this process easier. It would make it easier for consumers to consume, make it easier to download, make it easier and better for readers. So it was a series of efforts that was fairly byzantine looking back on it, but had everything to do with really trying to push the boundaries of the journalistic experience as much as anything.

Debbie Millman:
In 2012 during Hurricane Sandy in New York City, you found out that the editor-in-chief of WIRED was going to be moving on. What made you decide to throw your hat into the ring for the job as editor-in-chief/

Scott Dadich:
I never fell out of love with WIRED. I was asked to move to New York and take that platform’s job on in the digital space, and it was a thrill for me because I was dating this amazing woman named Amy. So there was a pretty good reason… She was living in New York, so it was a pretty good reason for me to be in New York a lot more. I was also going out to the West Coast a lot to meet with Apple and Adobe. So it felt like my colleagues and I were always on the West coast and I always had one foot in WIRED, and even as I was seeing the folks after me continue to care for WIRED, including Chris Anderson.
So it was a pretty easy feeling and something that really was right under the surface when I found out that Chris was going to move on and start his own company, for me to go to Tom Wallace, the editorial director and raise my hand and say, “If you’d have me, I would love to be considered.” And it just so happened that that Hurricane Sandy moment came and the conditions were right, and again, a series of circumstances that I kind of can’t believe looking back on it, but ones that ended with me back in San Francisco and this time with my wife Amy.

Debbie Millman:
In your first editor’s letter you wrote, “Let’s blow some shit up.” Do you think you did?

Scott Dadich:
Yeah, we probably did. We definitely sure as shit tried, as we’d like to say in Texas.

Debbie Millman:
Under your editorship. Speaking of awards, WIRED earned 10 Webby Awards, more than 100 medals from the Society of Publication Designers, a James Beard Foundation Award, Foreign National Magazine Awards for Design. You tripled WIRED‘s reach on social media, increased traffic to wire.com by 50%, and racked up over 1 billion annual page views to the site. 1 billion with a B. That’s a pretty spectacular run. Did you feel invincible or did you worry that you had to keep that degree of success consistent year-on-year?

Scott Dadich:
Certainly there was an intense feeling of not doing well enough, of really being on a treadmill and really feeling pressures competitively because during those years there were such an explosion of other activities threatening the magazine landscape and ultimately the attention model that magazines had thrived under. It used to be that your eyes and your attention to read a magazine were sufficient to support the economic imperatives of the business by buying it, by subscribing to it, by having advertisers commit. But when a thing called Instagram can also deliver that attention and engagement, that’s a threat. When a game can capture your evening instead of reading an article on wire.com or when watching a Netflix show is going to be just as enjoyable.

I think those were the imperatives that really pushed us forward much more so than saying we have to do better than our competitors across the street. So it was a pretty intense time, and I think given the platform imperatives, given that we did have to operate a print magazine, a daily website publishing 50 or 60 stories a day, full social media channels, a retail business at the holidays and events business, bringing people into live contexts. There were complexities that were sort of staggering, so it felt like a sprint every single day.

Debbie Millman:
Some of your biggest accomplishments at WIRED were the collaborations you forged with guest editors and your exclusive interviews, and somehow you were able to get an exclusive sit down interview with Edward Snowden in Moscow, and you wrote this about the experience. “Just a few people on Earth know where I was and why in Moscow to sit down with Edward Snowden, it was a secret that required great efforts to keep. I told coworkers and friends that I was traveling to Paris for some work, but the harder part was covering my digital tracks. Snowden himself had shown how illusory our assumption of privacy really is, a lesson we took to heart. That meant avoiding smartphones, encrypting files, holding secret meetings.” Scott, how did you get that interview in the first place?

Scott Dadich:
That was a process that took probably the better part of eight or nine months. My very dear friend, Platon longtime collaborator dating back to my earliest days at Texas Monthly, and I had talked about this as a get, this is a thing. And we thought in first terms of the visual and we thought in first terms of the cover, very much in a George Lewis kind of condition like we need to make an iconic cover, and this is a moment, an individual who would deserve such a treatment. Then came the very real practicalities of what he had or had not done, and the arguments in the newsroom about our obligation to cover his actions, whether we agreed with them or not, whether we could reach him or not, but it was my responsibility as the editor of WIRED to reach out and to find a channel appropriate to find him.
We were looking at news reports and wire clippings and the access that The Guardian was getting and what we’re seeing on channels like social media and Twitter. So we had some indications, but ultimately got a connection that Platon and I had raised to an individual who knew his lawyer. So we’ve got a communication over to him and we waited and we checked in and we waited and we checked in. And I don’t remember the exact date, but we got a communication back that if I were to be in Moscow on such and such a date and such and such a time at such and such a hotel, maybe conditions would be right for a meeting.

Debbie Millman:
And you and a photographer went, I believe?

Scott Dadich:
Yeah, so Platon and the photographer, we packed up some cases and his assistant and our photo editor, we all met in Moscow. And the secrecy and the sort of skullduggery of it seems over the top or maybe to some seemed over the top at the time, but I did have to communicate to a couple of my colleagues at Conde Nast, and I also sought the advice of several of the other editors in chief that I had trusted very deeply and have very strong relationships given my previous work with them. So I just sought some advice and it turns out that a couple of them, and one of them in particular had been over in Russia and had been hacked and had his smartphone compromised and banking details and all the sort of things that you can imagine would be really terrifying to encounter. So there was a very real cautionary tale about why the secrecy was going to be required, whether it was from people chasing Snowden or other actors or government officials. We just didn’t know, and there was a lot to be careful about.

Debbie Millman:
Did you know for sure he was going to show up or was it… Were you just hoping he’d show up?

Scott Dadich:
We really didn’t, and we were hoping, and I did… We stopped in Paris and I met Platon at Charles de Gaulle and at the gate, and I had sent my iPhone in a FedEx packet back to Amy in San Francisco. So I was phoneless until we got to the Moscow airport. Platon and I bought burner phones and no one knew those numbers, no one knew how to reach us. We were there. We did not bring computers, we were not online, we left no digital signatures. We checked into that hotel and we waited. We sat and we waited and sure enough the phone rang and it was Ed himself, this voice on the phone at the pre appointed time called out and said, “I understand you’re in room so-and-so, and I’ll be there in about an hour.” Sure enough, there was a knock at the door about an hour later, like the longest hour of my life, waiting to see if that was going to happen, and he ended up showing up.

Debbie Millman:
Scott, as an interviewer, I need to ask this question. It might not be as interesting to my listeners as it will be to me, but I can’t resist. How did you prepare for that interview?

Scott Dadich:
Well, obviously we had just read everything we could get our hands on, stayed as current as we could on news events, on government positions and what the Obama Administration was doing. Obviously, we had an incredible amount of opinion and reporting background from our colleagues in the newsroom, so you feel pretty well-prepared. I was there not only to meet with him, oversee the photo shoot and then facilitate the interview for Jim Bamford, our incredible journalist who’s going to write the profile. So Jim was also there and meeting with him the next day, but Platon and I ended up having the very first interaction with him in that hotel room, which lasted about four hours that afternoon.

Debbie Millman:
You also oversaw issues guest edited by Christopher Nolan, Serena Williams, Bill Gates, JJ Abrams, and as I mentioned in my intro, President Barack Obama while he was still in office. How much collaboration did you do with President Obama on this issue?

Scott Dadich:
Quite a bit. That was an issue that came about in the spring of 2016, and looking back on, I’m actually shocked how much cooperation and collaboration we got, not only from the president, but from his team at the White House. It was always the case that these individuals, these guest editors had to given their stature, given their responsibilities, rely not only on the WIRED newsroom, but on also usually the guest editors team or chief of staff or communications leaders. So there was always a very collaborative approach. Again, that team sport in making a magazine is a precondition of the engagement.

But when we pitched the idea to the team at the White House and this wonderful leader named Jason Goldman, chief digital officer who really got us in the door and really saw and understood what this could be, getting us in front of folks like Jen Psaki and knowing that this [inaudible 00:52:50] still, this could not be propaganda and this had to be a journalistic exercise and there would be preconditions on our side. It was still a process where we got the president’s fingerprints on manuscripts, and specific notes, and story lineups, and comments on headlines, and even very good edits to the stories themselves. He’s a great writer, obviously has just a wonderful command of language and of ideas. So it was just a pretty magical experience, I think for our newsroom and for the entire team got to work on it.

Debbie Millman:
Did you have to edit the president or kill any of his ideas?

Scott Dadich:
We didn’t kill any of his ideas. He definitely killed many of our ideas, and that’s sort of the way that it works. We provide a big slate and a big pathway for us to explore together. So the saying no to things is actually part of how the guest editorship really takes shape.

Debbie Millman:
You conducted an interview with President Obama for the issue, and this was in 2016, and when I reread it in preparation for an interview, I was struck by this statement he made. “Traditionally, when we think about security and protecting ourselves, we think in terms of armor or walls. Increasingly I find myself looking to medicine and thinking about viruses and antibodies. What I spend a lot of time worrying about are things like pandemics.” This was in 2016.

Scott Dadich:
Wow. I’ve not reread that. I’ve not gone back to that in many years, certainly before. Wow, that is uncanny, Debbie.

Debbie Millman:
Right. I got shivers when I saw it- [inaudible 00:54:33]

Scott Dadich:
I just got chills. I just got chills [inaudible 00:54:36]. That’s amazing. It’s not surprising. He is just so brilliant, and so well-read, and so curious. And obviously had such incredible access to so many vectors of information, but that is just absolutely breathtaking to hear those words again.

Debbie Millman:
Another of your initiatives was launching WIRED by Design, which was a three-day design retreat at George Lucas’s Skywalker Ranch, and two of the attendees there, Dave O’Connor and Justin Wilkes approached you and asked if you had any thoughts about how to transform what was on stage into a documentary or a series. That I believe was the seed of Abstract, your television show. Is that correct?

Scott Dadich:
That is exactly right. There were a number of threads that had started Abstract, including a conference event that a number of my friends and I put on together in Portland, Maine in 2011. It was an idea that we needed to get up and stage and share our creative process and talk about creativity in order to progress the creative process. So that’s actually where the name abstract started, and it was actually a live gathering well before I was editor-in-chief of WIRED. The WIRED by Design element was really interesting because we were able to gather a really intimate group of folks. I think there were about 300 folks at Skywalker Ranch in Marin County, this legendary place, and it fostered a really warm embrace for creative discourse and having folks like Dave and Justin there alongside luminary designers like Bjarke Ingels on stage, or Christophe Neimann or Wyatt Mitchell, and having those individuals talk about the design process and the design decisions that had to be made felt really interesting.

And it was a moment where Netflix was investing pretty heavily in documentary formats, especially in documentary series. And Dave and Justin in particular were really well suited to think about how to bring a production like that to life. So it wasn’t long after that that we started talking with our friend Morgan Neville. Obviously incredible documentary filmmaker, director, producer, Oscar-winning for Twenty Feet From Stardom, and Morgan got the idea just right out of the gate as well. So Morgan co-created with us, and it was sort of like kismet to think about having all those ideas come together and into that documentary format and go chase and follow some of our design heroes and tell their stories.

Debbie Millman:
The show was actually green-lit by Netflix on the spot, and the full title is Abstract: The Art of Design, and it was structured as an eight-episode documentary series about visionary designers who shaped the world around us from architecture to illustration, cars to typography. And just some of the guests in the first season were graphic designer and artist, Paula Scher, illustrator, Christophe Neimann, stage designer, Es Devlin, Nike shoe designer, Tinker Hatfield. Scott, what was the criteria for choosing the designers you did? There was a real collaborative spirit in **+each episode, and I was wondering if that figured into how you made the choice about who to feature?

Scott Dadich:
That’s an awesome question, Debbie, because when we would approach potential subjects that collaboration was one of the things that really had to be there. Even after our first conversation that we had this notion that we wanted them to almost co-create the episodes with us, but because they were designers, they had a process, because they were designers, they knew how to tell stories, because they were designers, they were connected to subcultures of the design. So you pretty quickly got to create a list of things that we viewed as requirements for what we ended up calling a casting matrix and knowing that we had an eight-episode order, we wanted to approach designers from different fields, maybe even from fields that most folks wouldn’t even consider as design or contemplate, like meet back at the bagel shop, but didn’t even know that you could be an art director and that was a field that you could pursue.
But we had to be able to see what these folks did, and we had to see that over the course of time. We had to see their works develop and sometimes not develop or sometimes fail, and they had to be willing to bring us into their worlds from a production standpoint. So that mix, finding the right diversity of backgrounds and as individuals and of creative practices ended up being the thing that helped us take a list of probably 300 people globally and whittled that down into the eight yeses that ended up being the first season.

Debbie Millman:
Wow, that’s an effort. I had no idea that there were that many designers in consideration. With the designers that you ultimately chose, how hard was it for them to sort of have that peak under the hood? It didn’t seem like it was in any of the episodes. In fact, there seemed to be quite a lot of joy in expressing their process or their methodology or even just the way that they went about practicing their craft. Did you find that something that you had to foster or help bring about, or was it something that was harder for them?

Scott Dadich:
It was a little bit of both. I maybe put my thumb on the scale with some of the casting because Christopher Neimann was the first person that I called, he’s one of my most dear friends for 20 plus years. So there’s just a preexisting trust and a companionship and a creative comradery that we had leaned on for many, many many years. So I don’t even think Christophe even heard the rest of my sentence when I first asked him to join us versus incredible luminary heroes like Paula, who I just couldn’t even believe I was getting to meet, let alone follow her process. And we didn’t have a preexisting show to point to and say, “it’s going to be like this, just trust us. And I know this camera is right in your face while you’re trying to work, but I promise you the shot is going to be flattering and it’s going to be illuminating to the process.”

So it was a bit of both and some of it’s sort of a wild hair and to say to Platon, “I want to go see the Village you grew up in Greece and why that actually ended up shaping your creative process.” Versus being with Bjarke to say, “I need to be with you for a full year to follow this design process and all the way up to the construction of the Serpentine Gallery.” So it was a different process based on each individuals versus something like Christophe, where we just decamped to Berlin and filmed every day for a week, and then went to New York and filmed for a couple more days and that was it. We shot the whole episode in one week. So it was quite a diversity of trust building and creative process on both sides of the camera.

Debbie Millman:
One of my favorite aspects, aside from seeing these luminous designers making what they make was also seeing a little bit about who they were as human beings. I loved how you featured Paula and Seymour and captured the dynamic between the two of them was just perfection.

Scott Dadich:
Just such a wonderful relationship, and to see them half bickering over what’s for lunch as Paula is going to head back to the studio in the afternoon, those are the real moments. I think showing some of the rough edges and showing that we’re all humans and you got to feed yourself at some point, or Ralph and Doris going dancing for dance classes and that salsa night. That’s what makes us people and that’s what makes design interesting I think.

Debbie Millman:
Abstract was released in 2017 and was nominated for an Emmy Award in 2018. The second season of Abstract launched in more than 190 countries in over 30 languages for 150 million Netflix subscribers in 2019. Season two was also nominated for an Emmy Award and was also named Best Episodic Series of 2019 by the International Documentary Association. And you’ve said that making Abstract was one of the most joyful periods of your entire life. Will there ever be a season three?

Scott Dadich:
Oh, please, Debbie. I really hope so. Funny enough, we were casting season three when the pandemic hit.

Debbie Millman:
Yeah, I read that.

Scott Dadich:
You talk about the scale of Abstract and the precision and richness that Netflix imbued in it and the investment that they made in it, such that we could travel the world and meet these amazing people. That takes a huge crew. So to make a season of Abstract was about 300 people and we were in 17, 20, 25 cities per season, so obviously the pandemic shut that down. And a lot changed during those years when we couldn’t travel and certainly viewing habits changed and things like Tiger King and true crime really came to dominate Netflix’s business model, but I will never say never. We still stay in touch with our friends and maybe if your amazing listeners will raise a chorus, we can get that third season green-lit.

Debbie Millman:
Wouldn’t that be amazing?

Scott Dadich:
It sure would, count me in.

Debbie Millman:
Now while you were working on Abstract, you were still at WIRED for some of that and as you worked on the series, you began to feel as if it were time to take your own next step in your own creativity and you stated this, “Can I do this for myself? Can I choose to work with people where we go chase an idea in the way that we were trying to profile it with the subjects of Abstract?” At this time, were you thinking, “Okay, it’s a defining moment, it’s a fork in the road.” Did you have a sense that this was what you needed to do and go off and do something on your own?

Scott Dadich:
I definitely felt compelled by those motivations that you just described. I think at that point I had been at Conde Nast 10, 11 years, WIRED for most of those years, and there’s something that happens when you’re at WIRED. You meet all these incredible founders and they come into the office and we get to interview them or they get to talk to the staff in and off the record or we get to create a photo shoot around them. And you gain some proximity and you get to talk to them and understand their creative process. And even where WIRED is, the actual physical location here in San Francisco, there’s a coffee shop across the street where you would see the founders of Twitter and you’d be in line with Jack, and then you’d be using Twitter that afternoon. It was sort of crazy and heady this mix of people making things and chasing dreams and following their passions.

Abstract, really supercharged that for me. And I was talking to a friend the other day, we were actually just reflecting a bit on our career paths and what gets us to here as we get a little bit older. And I’ve come to understand that it’s sort of these eight and 10 year arcs where that yearning for discovery, that sort of restlessness really does sort of grab hold of me. So those were certainly feelings that I was having, even though I was having the time of my life at WIRED. And then paired with the moment of working with the president, I felt like that was sort of the pinnacle. I couldn’t really think of things that I hadn’t wanted to try and hadn’t been able to achieve, whether that was meeting with Edward Snowden in Moscow or sitting down with the president in the Roosevelt Room. So the boxes sort of felt all checked, and I think those were probably some of the ingredients that led to me casting my eye to the horizon.

Debbie Millman:
As you were casting, did you have a sense that you wanted to start your own agency or that there were somewhere else you wanted to go? What gave you the courage and confidence to make that decision?

Scott Dadich:
There were a couple different ideas. I still think about all the different thoughts in my head about what I want to do with my creativity, with my creative impulses. Whether that’s being stationed in a leadership position at a technology company, that’s something that gets talked about a lot out here. You just bump into leaders and get to know leaders at all these amazing companies that really shape the future here in Silicon Valley. I had conversations like that. I had conversations with friends about a different kind of magazine path or a way to pursue the filmmaking path full-time.

And then ultimately meeting some friends at this agency across town that ultimately were very, very helpful in shaping WIRED‘s vision, shaping WIRED‘s editorial craft, and setting the editorial charter and vision for WIRED that enabled that growth that you described earlier. And having seen them do it and having seen them build this firm and help clients from all stripes solve storytelling challenges, narrative challenges, brand challenges, design challenges. And to be able to do that in a way that could also bring abstract into the mix ultimately was the path that felt like the right one. It was scary. I remember seeing you about that time as we were launching, but it was also felt like the right sort of mix of ingredients even though we maybe weren’t quite sure what we were going to be making with those ingredients.

Debbie Millman:
You started your agency, Godfrey Dadich Partners on February 1st, 2017, and at Godfrey Dadich Partners, you seek to bring together the best of strategy, design, product and journalism to build story-driven brands. One of my favorite projects of yours is the Nike film you did with Billie Eilish. What are some of the projects you would say you’re most proud of now after nearly eight years at Godfrey Dadich?

Scott Dadich:
I love that film. That was directed and produced by a brilliant colleague of mine named Paula Chowles, who actually used to be the executive producer for video at WIRED. So we worked together for more than a decade, and that was in the height of the pandemic in a tough production. We’ve been trusted by Nike a number of times over the years. Probably my favorite Nike project, aside from working with Tinker on the Abstract episode, was a series of films and really one key long-form documentary about their sustainable manufacturing process called Space Hippie. Where we got to go into the factories in Vietnam where the shoes are manufactured, where in the space kitchen in Portland, where Tinker and his colleagues were inventing new fabrics and new design methodologies and new methods of making sustainable shoes.

So that was about a two-year process as well. That really sort of scratched a lot of the processes we built in making Abstract, but to do that in a context that told a very important story about sustainability and resource management and the sort of choicefulness that we need to operate within as designers. So that was something that a lot of folks saw at the time, maybe in the SNKRS app, but it was also a very important storytelling tool within the halls of Nike.

Debbie Millman:
As you mentioned, you are in your eighth year running Godfrey Dadich, which is the longest you’ve ever been in one position. You said in an interview that your dream job is one that you felt you could do for the rest of your life and not run out of challenges. Is that this job?

Scott Dadich:
I think it is. I really hope it is. I feel challenged every day if that’s one of the things that needs to be considered. I love the access to challenges that we have. I love the clients that we get to work with, whether that’s the folks inventing new modes of generative AI up at Microsoft or quantum computing at IBM. It’s kind of breathtaking to get to continue to have a lot of the access that we had at WIRED, but in these new contexts and new storytelling contexts. So there’s a lot to love about this and I hope to be lucky enough that my colleagues will keep me around and the challenges will be plentiful enough that we can keep the lights on.

Debbie Millman:
I was reading something about your thoughts on AI and you used the term extended intelligence as opposed to artificial intelligence, and I thought that really changes the way in which you think about the relationship of this kind of intelligence.

Scott Dadich:
That’s absolutely true. There’s so much changing. It’s such a rapid clip. We talked for a number of years at WIRED about the concept. Obviously this is a very old concept in computing and something we’ve covered for many, many years as journalists, the artificial intelligence. But we started to talk about augmented intelligence and more recently extended intelligence because AI and generative AI in particular is such a powerful tool that it is changing the nature and shape of work. That is really at the heart of our assignment and partnership with Microsoft on Work Lab, talking about the future of modern work and how tools like AI are shaping that. And really what it’s doing is raising the bar for us as individuals, as collaborators, as creators. It’s breaking through the career ceiling. It’s changing the very nature of how we collaborate and that we’re starting to see people, power users in particular, extend and reshape their workday in ways I think we couldn’t even conceive of even just 18 months ago.

Debbie Millman:
I find it so interesting, some of the conversations and objections that I’m hearing. I’m a bit older than you are, Scott. So I went through the transition from working on a drafting table to working on a desk with a monitor-

Scott Dadich:
Now, now Debbie-

Debbie Millman:
… and at that time now-

Scott Dadich:
… I did that too. I remember the Ruby lift and sending the copy out to the service bureau. We’re not that different my friend.

Debbie Millman:
But I don’t know. I mean, do you remember some of the same fears about the computer taking away the soul of what we do and-

Scott Dadich:
Totally.

Debbie Millman:
… taking away jobs. And we’re hearing the same arguments now, and I’m just remembering how many jobs were created because of the new technology and how that has fundamentally changed our ability to make things in ways we never thought possible in the early eighties. And now here it is at another tipping point.

Scott Dadich:
Isn’t that amazing? Never conceived of the differences that we’re encountering today. It is pretty breathtaking and it’s really thrilling to test some of the boundaries of it and see how it’s helping us envision new creative outputs. Literally last night, some friends and I were having dinner and talking about, I was describing what you just did, the pay step board and remembering in my first days at Texas Monthly, we had to send the copy out to the bus station on a zip drive. So that the service bureau in Houston could help put the inches of copy and we’d measure the length of his story and column inches and then get to paste that back up. There was a guy whose job it was to drive that disc to the bus station, and you think about, “Well, that’s a job that doesn’t need to exist anymore.” But you think about all the other new roles that get created, it’s almost breathtaking to conceive of where we’re headed.

Debbie Millman:
Well, this actually teased me up for my last question. What haven’t you done that you still want to do?

Scott Dadich:
I want to direct a feature film. A narrative film. One of my heroes is a guy named Jeff Nichols, very, very dear friend of mine, and he has a new movie coming out just a couple of weeks called The Bike Riders that I’ve been talking to Jeff about that film, probably eight or 10 years that he’s been trying to make, and it’s amazing. I got to see it. But everything that thrilled me about Abstract, but in the fully created world of narrative, cinematic storytelling feels like an avenue that I really have to figure out at some point in my career. So if I can figure out a way to do it, that’s going to be something that I’m certainly keen on chasing.

Debbie Millman:
Oh, I’m sure you’ll figure out how to do it-

Scott Dadich:
One way or another-

Debbie Millman:
And then personally and selfishly, I’d love to see Abstract the magazine. I think that would be just delicious-

Scott Dadich:
Wouldn’t that be fun? Yeah. That-

Debbie Millman:
Oh, my God.

Scott Dadich:
… would not be the worst thing.

Debbie Millman:
Full circle. Scott, thank you so much for making so much work that matters, and thank you for joining
me today on Design Matters.

Scott Dadich:
Debbie, it’s an absolute honor. Thank you for this podcast and for inspiring so many of us for so many years. What a thrill.

Debbie Millman:
Thank you. To see the depth and the breadth of Scott’s work, you can go to godfreydadich.com. This is the 19th year we’ve been podcasting Design Matters, and I’d like to thank you for listening. And remember, we can talk about making a difference. We can make a difference, or we can do both. I’m Debbie Millman and I look forward to talking with you again soon.

The post Design Matters: Scott Dadich appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Ben:

Us designers know. I think we have weapons at our disposal that non-creative people don’t have.

Jack:

I’m too far into the art side of it, but I’m not taking my pieces and selling that at art galleries either. It’s like, this is for nobody but me.

Recorded Voice:

From the TED Audio Collective, this is Design Matters with Debbie Milman. For 18 years, Debbie Milman has been talking with designers and other creative people about what they do, how they got to be, who they are and what they’re thinking about and working on. On this episode, we hear from musician Jack White and designer Ben Jenkins about their business collaboration.

Ben:

Baseball bats are really simple thing. I bet I could figure that out.

Jack:

I’d seen these baseball bats and I remember thinking, “Oh wow. What an obvious idea, of course.”

Debbie:

Jack White has been on the music scene for over two decades. First in the band Goober & The Peas, then in the duo the White Stripes, then the Raconteurs, and the Dead Weather. He’s also released his own solo albums and produced music for artists including Loretta Lynn and Beyonce. He’s won many Grammy awards and three of his albums have reached number one on all of the charts that matter. Ben Jenkins is a different kind of rock star. He’s a former baseball player turned designer, turned entrepreneur. In 2011 he started a company that manufactured baseball bats named Warstic. What brings these two gentlemen together here in person is that in 2016 Jack White became an investor in Warstic, and the company now makes way more than baseball bats. Jack White and Ben Jenkins, welcome to Design Matters.

Jack:

Hi, thank you for having us.

Ben:

Thanks, Debbie.

Debbie:

Jack, is it true that you don’t have a cell phone?

Jack:

That is true. Yeah.

Debbie:

Have you ever had a cell phone?

Jack:

No, I’ve never had one, but I do think my days are numbered. I think time is running out because there’s so many things nowadays I’m discovering last, just since the pandemic hit, for example, where I’m not going to be able to get through a day without that.

Debbie:

How do you do that now? It’s hard for me to even imagine somebody not being able to look at their phone for directions or for Wikipedia.

Jack:

Yeah, I use email and I text on my laptop, so I’m on my computer a lot. So that handles, I think, the big brunt of it. And then there’s just the, I don’t know, old fashioned way of just leaving the house and driving away and you’re not going to see me for a couple hours. That’s how it goes.

Debbie:

Was it a decision that you made when cell phones first came out? Like, “No, I don’t want to be part of this on all the time lifestyle”?

Jack:

I was scared of, for example, I’ve never smoked marijuana, for example. It’s not some sort of judgmental thing against people who smoke marijuana, I could care less and what other people do, whatever. It’s not the thing itself, it’s the things that are attached to it. So it’s not the cell phone itself, it’s just the idea that I’m going to be on it all day long, and I’m going to have it charged, and I’m going to have to wake up in the morning and… It’s all the ancillary things, those are the things I have fears, ancillary things. It’s not the gun, it’s the bullets.

Debbie:

Right, it’s not the phone it’s the addiction?

Jack:

Yeah.

Debbie:

You were born Jack Gillis in downtown Detroit. Your mom is Polish, your dad is Scottish Canadian, and they both worked for the church. You are the youngest of 10 siblings. What is the range between you and your oldest sibling?

Jack:

My oldest sister, Maureen is 21 years older than me. I’m 46, so she’s 67.

Debbie:

My youngest brother is 26 years younger, but it’s from different mothers.

Jack:

Oh wow. So you know the… Yeah, it’s very similar.

Debbie:

Yeah, I felt very much like I raised my little brother or helped raise him, and I know you felt that way about your older sisters as well.

Jack:

Oh yeah. They used to say whenever they would take me out and everyone thought that they… People would say, “Oh, your mom, ask your mom for ice cream,” or something like that. They would always treat them like they were the moms, and they pretty much were. The whole family was very much like that, it was like having a lot of parents. The ninth kid is seven years older than me, I’m way at the end.

Debbie:

So you were an accident?

Jack:

Most definitely, but the Catholic kind. There are no accidents in giant Catholic families. It’s like, “What’s that?”

Debbie:

Yeah, your parents really liked each other.

Jack:

Let’s just call it unexpected, let’s call it that.

Debbie:

Your six older brothers were in a band called Catalyst and you began to play their drum kit when you were five. What drew you to the drums specifically?

Jack:

I didn’t think I had any talent for the other stuff, guitar and bass.

Debbie:

But at five?

Jack:

At five, it felt like drums were just whatever, I’m not doing anything serious. I just like music and this is something I can actually do. And as I got older, I started to play a little bit guitar, but I was always playing something. I didn’t learn, nobody taught me, I was self-taught on these instruments so by the time I was in my 20’s I was thinking, “Oh wow, I actually can play a little bit of piano, I can play a little of the guitar.” But I never thought about that way. I thought always with music, if it ever came to a thing where, what do I would like to do as a musician? I was like, “Oh, I like to play drums in a band.” And by that I always meant a band that plays a gig once a year at a bar in Detroit, that there’s no way you could ever do anything bigger than that, and that I would just do upholstery for the rest of my life.

Debbie:

Well, actually I’ve read, and I don’t know if this is true. I read it fairly consistently in all of the research that we did that because you never really thought you could make a living as a musician, you decided you wanted to become a priest and were accepted at the seminary.

Jack:

That’s true, it’s just slightly convoluted. The acceptance at the seminary was when I was 14. So, that was deciding what high school to go to, and I applied at a seminary in Wisconsin and they accepted me and I was planning to go there. And about the summer before it happened at the last second, I found out or heard by word-of-mouth, “You know you can’t bring your guitar and amp to that dormitory in Wisconsin?” And I thought, “Ooh, that might be a deal-breaker.” I was just getting into music in a way where I was starting to record in my bedroom and things like that, and I thought, “Oh, wow. Am I going to give this up for four years, I’m going to not play music?” I didn’t know, I didn’t actually double-check to make sure that was true. It was just that rumor was enough for me to go, “I think maybe this isn’t the right idea.” So I went to a public school in Detroit, which was its own kind of own weird universe.

Debbie:

Well, you went to a technical high school, but did you at any point really want to be a priest?

Jack:

I thought about it. What they call it in the Catholic world is you get the calling. So you go and you see if you’ll get the calling eventually. So you don’t decide your life at 13 or 14, you just go, “If you head down this one path and then if you get the calling down the road, then it’s the thing.” That’s the nice thing about… As many flaws that the Catholic church has, there’s a nice thing about the Catholic church growing up through it was, they didn’t force that kind of stuff on you. It wasn’t like, “Oh, you want to be a preacher? Cool. We’re setting you up right now at 13. Okay, good. Your rest of your life you’re going to be a priest.” They’re not really like that, and they’re not going out and pushing their stuff down on other people’s throats.

Jack:

So that was a cool, niceness of that environment where you did feel like, “Okay, I was thinking about it but I changed my mind.” I did the same thing with the Marines coming out of high school, in senior year I had signed up for possibly going to the Marines or the air force. They come to your class and recruit you in class. But then again I thought, “Oh it’s not for me, I don’t think it’s the right move for me.” But upholstery, I would have dropped out of high school and just done upholstery if I could have. I don’t think anybody around me would have been very supportive of me dropping out.

Debbie:

You grew up with a Polish grandmother and your parents were in their 60’s when you were in high school, you lived in a Mexican neighborhood and went mostly to an all black high school. And you said it would’ve made just as much sense for you to play in a Polish polka band or in a hip hop group, or in a Mexican mariachi band. What was the first music you were really interested in playing?

Jack:

Rock and roll because that was what my brothers were really into, but our family liked all kinds of music. My parents were into big band music and Nat King Cole and Sinatra and all that stuff. And my brothers were into rock and roll a lot, but also Johnny Cash and folk musicians as well. And so, it was a pretty healthy mix. And then of course, all the friends on my block were all listening to hip hop and house music and Latin music. So, any of those could have been interesting, but I think there was, your older brothers and sisters are going to win out as influence.

Debbie:

By the time you were 15, you were a business major in Cass Technical High School. And you had an upholstery apprenticeship with Brian Muldoon who was a family friend and a former neighbor who ran an upholstery studio. And I read that you remember first being intrigued by Muldoon’s studio as a little boy riding around on a big wheel.

Jack:

Well, our two houses were right next door to each other. So you could ride bikes or big wheels in between the houses and look down into the basement if the door was open. So, I would see him working on furniture down in that basement all the time as I rode by. So it was just by chance that when I was a teenager, he moved next door to my brother in another part of town in Detroit. And then hanging out on the front porch we started talking, he was a drummer, so we started talking about drums, and then he gave me some Modern Drummer magazines. And then he eventually asked me, “Hey, do you want to come and work after school and sweep up in the shop a couple days a week, maybe learn how to do some upholstery.” And I thought, “Wow, what a cool job at 15?”

Jack:

And by the time I got to 18 though, I got around into it, I was really starting. I had gotten so immersed in the furniture and designers and mid-century modern, and arts and crafts and I’ve become really in love with film. So I thought it would be great to take some film classes, maybe end up possibly working in film and directing in film somehow. You discovered quickly that was like, I got… I became a PA on car commercials and stuff. It was mostly car commercials because it’s the big three and it’s Detroit and that’s the industry of film in that town except for art projects.

Debbie:

Had you ever thought about going to Cranbrook or any of the amazing schools that are in Michigan?

Jack:

I would’ve loved to had anybody actually offered this idea to me. I’ve never even knew that was a possibility, I didn’t know about Cranbrook and all that until it was in my 20’s. It’s indicative of a lot of things, the environment that I grew up in the ’80s and early ’90s which it was still crazy. There’s just a lot of things you see now with modern parents and I’m a parent and I have a lot of friends with kids, that you just see how much is put in front of them. Like, “You can do this, you can do that. And this is an option and that’s an option,” and none of these things were put in front of me. And no one even told me when they would see me recording and getting super involved in music like, “Wow, you could press your own record, there’s a record pressing plant in town.”

Jack:

Nobody said that to me, nobody said, “Oh by the way, you can go to this design high school instead of the high school you’re going to, or design college.” When I was 21, I opened my own upholstery shop. And if I saw a 21 year old kid do that now I’d be like, “Oh my God man, congratulations. High five, whatever. Do you need any help?” Or whatever. And I didn’t see a lot of that, I saw a lot of people giving you this look like, “Okay, whatever.” Thinking this is going to fail in a year or so, I don’t know what they were intending, what they were conveying, but it wasn’t pats on the back, let’s put it that way.

Debbie:

Well, it’s a little bit obscure.

Jack:

It is kind of strange, yeah.

Debbie:

It’s a bit of an old school kind of discipline. My grandfather was an upholsterer, by the way.

Jack:

No way.

Debbie:

Yes.

Jack:

Wow.

Debbie:

But it’s not something that I’ve ever heard anyone say, “When I grow up, I want to be an upholsterer.”

Jack:

No, it’s very, very niche. And I definitely think that through going to the upholstery supply places when I was coming up, I pretty much determined that I was the only person under 45 doing that trade in the metropolitan Detroit area.

Debbie:

I would say maybe even in the world.

Jack:

There’s not many.

Debbie:

There’s not many. You began to write notes and poetry inside the furniture, like a message in a bottle. Has anybody found any of the messages over the years and the poetry that you tucked inside the cushions?

Jack:

We did. I don’t think anyone’s found any of my pieces of things that I’ve done in them, but people have found… Two people found this work I did with Brian Muldoon who I learned from. We did for his 30th anniversary of his shop, we did 100 records that we made together. We were a band called The Upholsters and we made 100 records and put them in a 100… He put them in 100 pieces that year. So two of those have been found. People have notified us they found those and they’re keeping them and they didn’t publicize it or sell them or whatever.

Debbie:

That’s incredible. It’s absolutely incredible. While working at the apprenticeship, you were also a drummer in two different bands. You were recording music in your bedroom, as you mentioned. And you also became close friends with Megan White, who you married in 1996 and took her last name. Very forward thinking, very ahead of your time. What made you decide to do that? Was it just because it was a cool color?

Jack:

I don’t have anything to say about that category, sorry.

Debbie:

While you were doing that, you decided to open your own upholstery shop. As you mentioned, you named your business Third Man Upholstery. The slogan you chose for your business was your furniture’s not dead. And you wrote some of your bills out in crayon. And I was wondering if that was a design decision or if it was more arbitrary, because that was the writing utensil you had nearby?

Jack:

I see it now when I work on furniture pieces that they’re more sculpture than they are furniture, really. And it’s something that was happening to me in the final year of my upholstery shop, which was, it was becoming more art than it was a way of sustaining a business and making money. I didn’t care about the money anymore, I was more interested in the fact that I was wearing a yellow shirt and a black pants with a white belt and delivering it and giving the bill in crayon. And I’d gotten obsessed with certain artists and there was this one artist, I can’t remember his name, but he was making counterfeit money. He was hand drawing counterfeit bills, one sided, and his art was to go buy things with that money. And he wanted to buy the object and they would give him the object and the receipt and the change, and that was part of the artistic transaction. And I got obsessed with this and I started writing my bills in crayon, and then all this stuff. And it’s not the way to make business in Detroit doing people’s furniture. That was very-

Debbie:

Performance art.

Jack:

Yeah, it was bizarre. And I knew I started to get to too far. I got this incredible piece which was a psychiatrist’s chair and couch. This was a great moment, I got to do this and she didn’t like dealing with me by the end of it I think. It wasn’t serious and commercial enough for her. And she had gotten, I had a guy upstairs from my shop was building furniture frames. It was like the perfect marriage, this guy could build frames. And she got another set made and took it to a different upholster, and I knew I had blown it with this client and I’m like, “This is a sign, I think I’m too far into the art side of it. But I’m not taking my pieces and selling that at art galleries either.” It’s like, this is for nobody but me.

Debbie:

By 1998, you were playing in bands including the Hentchmen, the Go, Two-Star Tabernacle, and the freshly minted White Stripes which you started with Meg. Did you feel conflicted by pursuing these two very different paths, upholstery and music?

Jack:

I just always assumed the music part was just going to be a small thing and not anything that would bring in any money or pay bills, or be able to have it as a lifestyle or a choice, artistic choice. I always assumed that the upholstery part was going to be how I paid the bills. So I didn’t take any of those any more seriously in that, yes, I would rather be making music, or I’d rather be making sculpture, but my assumption was always, “Oh, we got to gig this week, but probably six months from now, we’re not going to get a gig anymore.” So, but those assumptions started to slowly prove wrong, and it became more and more that I was now being taken away from the shop and working on music and making records and the artwork that went into that, and trying to get studio time and figure out a way to pay for that, and balancing those two. And yes, slowly the upholstery shop was fading away. But I remember people from the garage rock scene, musicians and friends, coming to hang out at my shop while I was working. They coincided for a while there.

Debbie:

In 2001, after releasing two somewhat under the radar albums, the White Stripes exploded during a visit to the UK when DJ John Peel said that you were the most exciting thing he’d heard since Jimi Hendrix, and life really hasn’t been the same since. What did it feel like at the time to go from zero to 60 in three seconds? Suddenly you were world-renowned.

Jack:

It was very strange because we had planned a trip to England. We thought we were just going to play with some other garage rock bands from England and Billy Childish, his whole group and Holly Golightly and all that. And we thought we’d play a couple gigs with them and it would be a nice trip. The trip would pay for itself, and we’d be off. That was not the case. By the time we had landed and what John Peel had been pushing, it was very incredible. It was, we were showing up to his studio and he had a live audience and there was a buzz in town. It was a big deal that we were there. And Meg and I were shocked, we had no clue why this would be happening this way. But John Peel was the last of those real DJs who played whatever he wanted to play and was an influencer and really his taste, he was a tastemaker.

Jack:

So if he played it was good to so many people, and he really loved us. And matter of fact, they’ve end up when he passed away, they had his box. He had his 45 box that he would take to DJ gigs and take to certain things, and they made actually a little documentary on it. But in that box of whatever it was, 150 records or something, there was 12 of my seven inches that I had been a part of. And so I don’t know why, but I connected with this guy. And when we met, we bonded fast. But God bless him because he had a huge impact on my life.

Debbie:

You were also the creative director for the band and were influenced by the De Stijl modern art movement, so much so that you even named one of your albums after the term. And De Stijl is used to refer to a body of work from 1917 to 1931 founded in the Netherlands by Pete Mondrian, Theo van Doesburg. What intrigued you about the ideals of De Stijl?

Jack:

Something occurred to me. I had bought a book called De Stijl and I was reading it. And when I found out the time period it existed in, it seemed like it was the exact same time period that American blues music was happening, and it seemed to apply to what we were doing with the White Stripes so definitively. And I had never heard of this movement, De Stijl, I thought it was something that nobody had heard of because I just found this book and didn’t realize if you went to art school, you would’ve read about it just like you’d read about Bauhaus or whatever. So I was, in my own little world, was making a correlation between this and blues music of the 20th century, of breaking things down to the absolute essentials of blues just being stripped onto one person against the world, one person a guitar, one person a piano, one person and a mandolin.

Jack:

And it’s the same thing they were doing, Mondrian and Gabriel Viardot doing with their furniture and paintings of breaking things down to simple shapes and simple colors. So I just thought it would be nice for us to put that together and feed off of that idea, so we did that. Which was funny because I think at the end of the day I remember seeing, who was it? Ann Powers or somebody like NPR of New York Times or something giving us a big thumbs down saying, “This band, they’re pulling the wool over everybody’s eyes. These are obviously art school students and this is art school 101 and this is pedestrian at best. And they’re pretending that they’re above everybody else,” or something like that, some connotation that this was a ruse.

Jack:

Again, this is my ignorance as far as whatever the rest of the world had known about their take on things. I was so insular back then that… You guys understand from the environment of Detroit that you’re in, nobody likes the same stuff that I like or the people that I am around. It’s very solitary, so you just make assumptions. I made a lot of incorrect assumptions that people didn’t know about that, people didn’t know about this, or whatever. But it was nice that I did that because I ended up creating things that it spurred me on and inspired me to think, “Oh, this is very unique,” at least it’s unique to me, something I’m getting an inspiration from.

Debbie:

Well, you didn’t necessarily need to know that the way that you were directing the creative for the band was based on De Stijl, it was just really compelling.

Jack:

It seemed to fit.

Debbie:

Creatively, the use of red, white and black. The red, white and black signified the White Stripes aesthetic. You’ve used green for the Raconteurs. Now you use blue. Well, you’ve been using blue for your solo career.

Jack:

Solo stuff, yeah.

Debbie:

So, talk a little bit about this visual positioning because it’s really, really well done.

Jack:

Oh, thanks. It’s usually the three colors of black and white being, white being all colors and black being the absence of color, and then whatever primary color makes sense to that. And this came from a designer of currency, again, that designed currency in the Netherlands where each denomination was a different color. So you instantly knew in your hand what you had, you had a 10, or you had a 20.

Debbie:

Yeah. Classic branding, by the way.

Jack:

It’s good in that sense, right? So the Raconteurs was not my band, so I suggested these colors of copper and green, but that wasn’t as strict in Dead Weather and Raconteurs with the color scheme.

Debbie:

The White Stripes broke up in 2011 and you’ve gone on to a prolific and often bigger career in other bands, you’ve worked as a solo artist and you’ve collaborated and produced music with a range of artists from, as I mentioned in the intro, from Loretta Lynn to Beyonce. And you’ve said that Loretta Lynn is the greatest female singer/songwriter of the 20th century. What was it like to work with her and then win two Grammy awards together? And why do you think she’s a better singer/songwriter than somebody like Joni Mitchell?

Jack:

I don’t think Joni Mitchell is very nice, and Loretta is very nice.

Debbie:

I’ve heard that.

Jack:

No, I don’t know much about Joni Mitchell, actually. I shouldn’t say anything like that, but I’m just really joking. But Loretta just exudes a charisma in person since I have met her, that is just undeniable. There’s a bizarre brilliance that she doesn’t realize is brilliant. There’s part of her that really realizes and really understands something, and another part of her that has no clue as to how brilliant it is. And it’s so interesting to talk to her because those two sides have this… They don’t meet up and it’s very unique. And most people who are that smart and genius at what they’re doing, have a full 100% capacity to understand all that. That’s a good idea, and that’s where it came from and whatever, blah, blah, blah. She has these brilliant ideas and knows they’re good, but another half of her personality does not know how genius that really is when it’s outside of its own realm.

Jack:

She thinks maybe it’s like, “Oh, that’s a really clever title. And then when I say the next lyric, I’m going to say this because that goes along with that. That’s great.” “That’s not just great Loretta, that’s absolutely genius, and people cannot do what you just did.” That’s the feeling you have when you listen to her talk, this feeling I had at least. And so you experience that, and on top of that, just to have her incredible voice. And then I have the same this rags to riches story, this coal miners’ daughter’s story as well. Goodness gracious, it’s just outstanding.

Debbie:

You said that Loretta Lynn has an unique way of writing songs that is nearly impossible to replicate, and declared that you tried as much as you could to learn from her on the craftsmanship, but couldn’t make your way around it with a compass.

Jack:

It’s very strange. She says, “Oh, people say I write backwards.” And whatever you want to call it, there’s some bizarre double choruses of her songs. It would be like, “Women like you, they’re a dime a dozen. You can buy them anywhere. For you to get to him I’d have to move over and I’m going to stand right here.” To most people that would’ve been the chorus, and then she goes another one, “It’ll be over my dead body, get out while you can. But you ain’t woman enough to take my man.” And either of those would’ve been someone’s chorus, but for her to have both of those in there. For her to say, “Oh, that’s not good enough. I’m going to push a little bit farther and write more.” This is someone who is not trained musically. I don’t know, it’s just a diamond in the rough that people take her a little bit for granted and they need to explore her a little bit more because there’s something going on there that a lot of country writers even then, and today do not have.

Debbie:

What is the biggest thing you learned from her?

Jack:

The biggest thing I learned from Loretta is really just keeping it very simple, that it applied to her lifestyle too. I thought it applied very well to the White Stripes and what made people shockingly connect with that band. But it connected with her too. She was always like, “Okay well, the dress needs to be pretty, or the lighting needs to be good, or that guitar player needs to play louder.” It was always real simple decisions and not overly complicated that seemed to instantaneously work. And I’ve seen that too when I’m working with the Rolling Stones a little bit and acts that, I don’t know, you would think there’d be a lot of deeper discussions about exactly the perfect way to get this thing enacted. And a lot of that, you’d say once they’ve done all the groundwork earlier on when they’re younger, that they’re… It’s easier to just make these simple decisions to put these things in action, which is easy to say, isn’t it? It’s easy to say, “Oh yeah, just keep it simple.” You have to have that groundwork though underneath it all.

Debbie:

Oh, it’s the hardest thing to do. Keeping things simple requires so much education.

Jack:

Sure. You need to learn, go through 10 years of using every color in the pallet to decide to just use green on this one thing and nothing else.

Debbie:

You now run Third Man Studio which includes Third Man Records, books, pressing, mastering, a photo studio and a design studio. Third Man is DIY to the max. The only two things you don’t do in records is to produce and manufacture the paper sleeves and the metal mother stampers. You also still do upholstery and furniture construction. How much hands-on work do you do?

Jack:

I like to do as much as I can. The hard part is having a pressing plant where you own the place, and I would love to go in there and just mess around and make my own records. And you can’t do that with a real factory, we build around the clock, but at the same time I like the idea of that that’s a train that’s already in motion that I’m just overseeing. And you’re trusting a lot of people who are talented and they’re the ones driving the train on the daily. And it’s great, it’s just great to be a little bit of a part of something like that. The end of the day, you can get investors and you can charm people and get a bunch of people in a room to spend a bunch of money and make something. Big deal, who cares? I guess there’s a lot of people who would say it’s an unique position for a lot of people to be in, but at the same time it’s not impressive to me. What’s impressive is actually making something unique and beautiful that money is the last thing on the menu about why you’re doing it.

Debbie:

Before we talk about your work with Ben and Warstic, I want to ask you about your current music. You just released the album, Fear of the Dawn and have another album coming out this summer. Why two albums in a matter of months?

Jack:

I don’t know, really. Just a lot of songs kept coming out of me and they didn’t want to be split up. They didn’t want to be meshed together, they didn’t want to be left to the side, they wanted to both exist. And they both came out as two finished albums and I thought, “Well, that’s not a really good business model in the music world.” You put out an album and then release another one in a year or two later. And I thought, “Well, by the time that comes out, that second record, I might have already moved on to something else.” Which is the whole reason the pandemic was a little bit scary for me was that, “Well, we’re not going to be touring, then why make a record? And then if I’m going to get excited about this record, it’s not going to come out for a couple years and maybe I should just move over to something else.” And I did I really moved over to design and furniture. So by the time I got finally back in the studio, I think it was this floodgate opened and a lot of songs came out. So I thought, “It’s not a good business model, but I’m just going to do it. And I’m going to release both those records this year.”

Debbie:

You made both of these albums during the lockdown, during which time you initially played and recorded all of the instruments yourself. You said that the seclusion of the pandemic helped you reevaluate artistically, and you ended up pushing yourself into new areas you’re really proud of. Does that include the music, or is that really more or the design and the furniture building and a lot of the other things that you’re doing?

Jack:

Starts with free time, just haven’t had free time. And I think that was another thing I learned from Loretta Lynn was, she was very much on it. “Once you stop, they forget about you. And once you stop moving this train, the train comes to a complete screeching halt.” And she sacrificed a lot in her life with her own world and her own family and all that, trying to keep that train running. And I give her a lot of credit for it, that’s a hard decision to make. And that’s what happens with music especially, or if you’re an actor in films, like that.

Debbie:

I think any creative person.

Jack:

Yeah, and if you’re getting a lot of stuff happening and a lot of attention for it, you’re making big mistakes if you take too big of a break from it. So that absorbed, the idea was “Okay, well I want to do this, I want to direct short films and I want to design more things on furniture and interiors, et cetera. But I can’t stop this music train right now because if I do that, then I’m not going to be able to pay for any of these other ideas down the run, I won’t be able to afford to do it.” So you just keep that train moving, so that was the one nice thing about the pandemic for me in my own little world was that I had a lot of free time now to finally work on some of these other things.

Debbie:

Fear of the Dawn actually shows up in several different places on the album. It’s not just the name of the album, it’s also the name of a song. It’s also, you use the scientific word for another one of the songs, and I’m wondering if you can share that word with us, tell us why you decided to choose it, and then why… Do you have a fear of the dawn?

Jack:

You’re talking about the word eosophobia and that was the word I read in an article somewhere, and I wrote it down saying, “Oh, I’ve got to come back and read about whatever that is.” I do that a lot when I’m reading and I’ll just save them into a folder on my computer and go, “I’ll check on this later.” And that was something when I was working on a couple of songs, I saw that word pop up and I thought, “I don’t know what that is,” and I had to reread the definition of it, intense fear of the dawn. Which I thought, what a horrible thing to have an intense fear about, it’s going to happen.

Debbie:

There’s so many other things.

Jack:

It’s not like a fear of something that might happen or probably isn’t going to happen, that’s going to happen.

Debbie:

Every day.

Jack:

Yes, every day. So, what a horrible thing if that’s a true feeling. I don’t know if there’s people out there who really have this fear. It reminded me of something I’d read about people who don’t experience pain, who have the inability to experience pain and how dangerous their lives are. And I got more and more into an idea of how dangerous this idea would be about being fearful of the dawn or having anxiety attacks when the sun would come up. Then I didn’t realize, maybe to other people it was just a simpler concept, more of vampires. I didn’t even think of the vampire connotation of that until later, but I just got a lot of thought out of it, I guess.

Debbie:

It’s a great album. So inventive, so unusual, and really so crafty.

Jack:

Thank you. Thanks.

Debbie:

Let’s talk about Warstic. How did you meet Ben Jenkins and what made you decide back in 2016 to invest in a business designing and manufacturing baseball bats?

Jack:

That’s a great question. It’s interesting, I got really involved in baseball. I had gone through a divorce and I was going through a long lonely period that I was spending a lot of time by myself, and I ended up watching baseball games, Detroit Tigers games, for the first time since I was a teenager. So, that started then in 2013 area somewhere. But I’d seen these baseball bats in a design website that I was reading, and I saw these different colored bats and I remember thinking, “Oh, wow, what an obvious idea. Of course, baseball bats that you could get in any color you want, why haven’t they… What took so long for that to be a thing?” And then down the line, we were opening The Third Man records building with Shinola Watches together in the same building in Detroit.

Jack:

I co-bought the building with the owner, Tom Kartsotis of Shinola and they were doing a bat with Warstic, they were doing a Shinola baseball bat with Warstic. And I went into their shop and I was looking at stuff I said, “Oh cool, I know that company. I’ve read about those guys. That’s really cool that you’re doing that, Tom.” Then I came back to Nashville, what it was a few weeks later and somebody in the art department there said, “Hey, we have this idea about some ideas for new merchandise for the store.” Because we’re always trying to think of something interesting to turn people on, and somebody said, “Look at this, there’s this company doing… We could do these yellow, black and white bats. Third Man Records baseball bats, would that? Since you like baseball, Jack, would you be interested in that?” I said, “Oh my God, I am and I like that company, but I can’t do that because Shinola did that with them already, so we can’t have that.”

Jack:

These Warstic bats in both these stores right next to each other, it looks like we’re ripping off Shinola’s collab they did. So just tabled that. And then he had reached out, I think Ben would have to tell you what takes place next. I think that he might have reached out through Ian Kinsler who was a Detroit Tiger, who was now co-owner of Warstic that something about, I don’t know why my name came up, but I think Ian mentioned my name to him.

Debbie:

So Ben, how did it happen?

Ben:

I like to explain to people that I definitely would’ve never thought of it just out of the blue. What he doesn’t remember probably is that Third Man Records had reached out literally like, “Hey, would you make like a cool black and yellow Third Man bat with Warstic?” And I was like, “Yeah, we’d love to do that.” But I did go, “Hey by the way, who at Third Man knows about us?” Because I was just very curious.

Debbie:

Oh, of course.

Ben:

And the guy was like, “Oh, Jack found you on the internet.” And I was like, “Sick.” But, it’s funny thinking back that was enough for me. I actually felt for one of the first times in my life that, “Oh, I made some art that a really great artist thought was great art,” and maybe patted myself on the back a little bit and I thought that was it. When I met Ian a couple weeks later, that’s when it got weird which was, I mentioned that to him because he was exploring what Warstic was about and he said, “Why is it cool?” And I said, “I don’t know, it’s just cooler than other baseball bats which aren’t cool, these are cool.” And I said, “Jack White reached out and wanted to do something, no big deal.” And he goes, “Oh, I know Jack a little bit.” I joked, “Oh why don’t we reach out to Jack and see if he wants to be the big investor, wink, wink.” And he laughed, and then we looked at each other and we’re like, “Oh, why not?” And that’s very much all of our personalities, to just explore what’s happening and go for it. He emailed him and then we were in Nashville meeting the next week and it was very quick and natural.

Debbie:

So, before we talk about how you both worked together for and with this brand, I’d love to just go and talk a little bit about your background and how you even got to developing a baseball bat manufacturing and design company. Ben, you were raised in Texas where your mom encouraged your creativity, and your dad as a lawyer inspired your work ethic. And you’ve said that you grew up with a complete razor-sharp focus on two things, you loved playing sports and you loved being creative. How did you manage to do both at the same time? They seem to come from very different parts of the brain.

Ben:

Yeah they did, and in Texas you don’t do those things together in public either because you have two sets of very distinct friends as well. I was in bands with this set of friends and my jock friends, they didn’t know each other and I was this weird in between thing that I’d bounce back and forth. But you go play sports games, you can’t play sports all day, it’s tiring. And when I would go home very much at home, right? That’s what I did at home in my room, I would draw just like so many of us did. And I just would put the other thing down and do one or the other, and for some weird reason I loved to do both, but they never concurrently happened.

Debbie:

By the time you got to high school, you were playing football, baseball, track, and you also enrolled in architecture and art classes. At that point, what did you think you wanted to do professionally?

Ben:

100% architecture.

Debbie:

Oh really?

Ben:

Yes, because I think my dad, it’s not that he ever discouraged my art, but he’s a great businessman, he’s a great worker, he provides for his family and it’s like, “Okay, art, cool. But how are you going to provide for your family? A lot of people draw a line to architecture because it’s practical.” And I did love architecture, I loved building things with Legos and making things and things like that. So 100% I went to college on a baseball scholarship, but I made sure that that school had architecture until they kicked me out.

Debbie:

They kicked you out? Tell us about that.

Ben:

Two years into it, with architecture you have these intense afternoon studio classes. Well, that’s when also when you practice college baseball. I would petition the school and I would try to get classes moved, and it got to the point where the Dean was like, “Look, you’ve got to quite architecture or you’ve got to quit baseball,” and I was like, “Can’t quit baseball, I’m here to play baseball. I’m on a scholarship and I’ve got to do that.” And so it was really disturbing at the time because I was like, “This is…” I thought I had it all figured out, I’m a baseball player, I’m an architect. I’m going to just do both until one tells me to do the other, I guess, was my plan. But what happened instead was I was forced to pick a different major. The only thing I could think of that it was even relatable was to go to the art school.

Ben:

And I was very much for a year just painting and drawing. I didn’t even know what design was, and a painting teacher that I’m still great friends with to this day who I owe everything to, his name is Brent [Vanderberg 00:39:22]. Great painter himself, gently took me aside and said, “Look, you’re a good painter for sure. But I’ve seen you work and you have this crazy obsessive compulsive habit of you care about composition and moving things around more than you do the brushstrokes.” He dragged me into the design studio and introduced me to Jamie [Mixon 00:39:40], my other important professor in my life. And I was like, “No way man, I’m painting. I’m a fine artist. I am not doing this computer stuff.” And this was back when the computer was just emerging for graphic designers. But man, I hit that command Z and boy did my brain love that function of being able to try some things three steps forward and then go three steps back. And I was hooked probably within a couple of hours.

Debbie:

Yeah, you can’t do that in upholstery, but you can do that on a computer.

Ben:

But I felt stupid because I was like, “Oh he’s so right.” This is what I love about this stuff was finding that composition until things felt right. And I’m naturally just, I’m a perfectionist, like I’m sure a lot of designers are. It’s the worst thing you could ever be in baseball. There’s so much failure in baseball, if you’re a perfectionist you drive yourself insane which I was very good at. The mentality of design actually much more naturally fits me than what you need to do in baseball, and so that even shook out.

Debbie:

Well, you graduated from Mississippi State University with a degree in architecture, but went straight to the minor leagues to play for the Martinsville Phillies during the 1996 season when you were 22. So, how did that all work? How did that happen?

Ben:

I just went. Baseball was my identity, I think my identity as a child was very much still first sports, that was my public persona. I was thought of as like, “Oh, it’s the quarterback and that’s the jock.” I’m a nice guy, but no one really knew about my art except maybe my band mates, but no one came to see us play so no one knew about it, so baseball always came first. So I did well enough in college to get a pro offer, and I went and did that for a while. But like I said, my perfectionist mentality did not really allow my true athletic ability to come out. So eventually they just say, “Hey, sorry, this isn’t what you’re doing, you’re cut,” and I got cut. So for the first time… I got cut one time in my life when I was, I think I was 23, almost 24. And I had sports every day of my life until that day, and it’s like, “Boom, you’re done,” and it was disturbing.

Debbie:

Well, you’ve written about and talked about how you went through a depression after that.

Ben:

Oh absolutely, because my identity was, it was just not available to me anymore. The goal was no longer they’re available to pursue anymore. And it was one or two things, either really force it which a lot of guys do and they end up playing until they’re 30 and not developing anything else. I did have enough common sense to go, “Hey, I have this other thing I love, and I’m lucky that I have it. I should go put all this energy now into that one thing.” And that’s what I did and I wasn’t a good designer at that point at all, I had barely really dabbled in it. So I just got out one of those US News and World reports and started looking at design schools and, “Hey, this was probably one of it.” And I applied to like the 10 best ones, and I got into The School of the Art Institute of Chicago. And I just said, “I guess I better go,” and so I went. And so I went directly from baseball to that, but the baseball took two or three years to get out of my system enough to just fully function and not worry about it.

Debbie:

Well, there’s so many things to talk about regarding this. There is one really important thing which is, you went after a dream.

Ben:

Yeah.

Debbie:

And so many people are afraid to do that because they’re afraid of failure and then spend the rest of their lives wondering what if they had pursued that dream?

Ben:

Yeah. Really getting cut actually is probably really good because it was very like, “Hey.” It was very, “You’re cut. You’re fired, you’re cut.”

Debbie:

Bye, bye.

Ben:

You shouldn’t be doing this.

Debbie:

It’s so hard. Oh my God.

Ben:

It’s like, “You gave it a shot.” Getting turned away, I think that helped me flip the switch on everything else. And creativity was the thing, and I put all that competitive nature, unfortunately for many clients, probably into that one firm versus another and things like that. For 10 years I grinded on competing, OneFastBuffalo, my design and branding firm, against other people. I had that competitive nature and it served me hugely well, I was not afraid to work. If anything, some of my design teachers even would say, “Hey, this kid right here, he’s going to outwork you guys.”

Debbie:

So interesting. Michael Bierut talks about the same thing that it’s really his work ethic that has propelled him into the stratosphere. And that he’s just worked so hard he has more, and you’re going to love this, at bats.

Ben:

Yeah, time in the water I say with surfers, and there’s so many things, the 10,000 hours, whatever you want. I think I spent from age then 25 to 35 getting good at it, and understanding that that was okay. And that I enjoyed the process of getting better.

Debbie:

Sports is such a black and white De Stijl equation in that there’s a winner and a loser. Well, the interesting thing about sports that I try to imbue when I’m teaching my students is how often you do fail in sports, even when you’re winning. And so you have somebody like Babe Ruth who was successful 60% of the time, he had one of the greatest batting averages of all time. But that also meant he was unsuccessful 40% of the time. Same thing with Michael Jordan, Michael Jordan was able to shoot 35% of the time the ball into the basket. That meant 65% of the time he was unsuccessful.

Ben:

Yeah. So design was easy. Honestly, comparatively, it’s more like Babe Ruth succeeded 30 to 40% of the time and failed 70% of the time.

Debbie:

Oh, I got that.

Ben:

It’s actually even worse.

Debbie:

Even better, right?

Ben:

It’s three out of 10 times success in baseball’s Hall of Fame.

Debbie:

Right?

Ben:

Yeah. When you fail, what you have to do is see it as an open door to something else that you need to learn, you need to see failure as something that you need to learn. And if you can do that and have that mindset, every time you fail you’re going to get better, or you can just quit. So there was no quit in me. Once I got into design, it was like, there was absolutely no way I was going to give up on whatever the goal was I wasn’t sure, but I just wanted to do it. And I wanted to get one project and do good so I can get a better project so that I can get a better project, and I just focused on one project after the other until I felt like, “Oh, these are the kind of projects that I’ve always wanted,” because the first ones were obviously bad.

Debbie:

Well, I think they mostly are for everyone?

Ben:

Yeah.

Debbie:

While you were in grad school, you went to an Indian reservation in South Dakota as part of a film project. And this is when you first encountered buffaloes. In my research, I learned that buffalo are surprisingly fast, I had no idea. In fact, they’re as fast as horses. So talk about your intrigue around the buffalo and how that impacted you at that time?

Ben:

Just the physical nature of them, and as a designer just the shape of them alone probably first was like, “Damn, that’s just badass. Look at that thing.” But then learning about, probably specifically back then, the Sioux people about the uses of the buffalo and then how every part was used, and it was used for food, water, clothing, shelter, all these things. And then I ran across… When I first started freelancing, I just called myself something really bad like Ben Jenkins Productions, Inc. Probably the worst name I’ve ever-

Debbie:

BJPI.

Ben:

Oh yeah, there was a BJ logo, all that. It was bad and I did that for about a year. And then I thought, “You know, I probably should name this something cooler,” or something like that. And at that time, probably didn’t even understand the concept of what branding was. But my first branding project was to name myself something bigger than myself and I had the sense that I wanted it to mean something to me and maybe be a little mysterious and people not understand it and stuff. And I’d read a story that… I love the survival story of buffalo that we got down to one herd through us killing buffalo to basically essentially wipe out native people, we killed all the buffalo. And we got down to a really small herd. And how fascinating is it that one herd though survived and today it’s come back.

Ben:

And I just, I always love the underdog story. That’s just natural to my personality. And so, just like we do, I’m scratching on paper and this thing OneFastBuffalo comes out. And then I realized later I was like, “Oh, I think this is branding.” And the process of doing that part, I love the logo part of this, but that process of naming was fascinating to me and fun, and doing it from a place that had meaning to me or the client. And that’s when I started graphic design, cool, but branding is this useful thing. It’s used for something, and getting into the meaning and what you’re to designing and then flipping it to say, “Hey, I can’t really write well, or even spell.” People that know me know for God’s sakes I can’t even read what I’m writing in a text, I can’t spell, but I strangely design out of words. I love to grind and write until I find the words that then narrow down the word that tell me, “Hey, this is where you should be playing with this.” And that’s strange to me to think because I’m just not a word person, but I actually start all designed with writing.

Debbie:

What made you decide to go straight into creating your own agency as opposed to working for someone else first and apprenticing?

Ben:

Well Debbie, no one would hire me.

Debbie:

Why?

Ben:

I don’t know. I came home from grad school and part of it was, I did so many things. I was like, “Oh, I’m an animator, I’m a filmmaker. I do graphic design.” I did too many things which I’d loved doing, and no one could say, “Oh, we could hire this guy as a web designer. We could hire the…” Probably that was it, but I could not get a job. I tried for about five, six months back in Texas. And literally just out of necessity, I convinced probably some family friends to give me some really bad design projects and I made a little dough, 200 bucks. But I loved that transaction. I was like, “Ah.” It took about three little things like that and I just had the confidence to say, “Hey, you know what? I think I can do this.”

Debbie:

You practice what you call the art of brand manufacturing. Can you share more about what that is and how you go about doing it?

Ben:

Oh man, I liked the word manufacturing because I liked the idea of building something. I loved graphic design, but I loved more the idea of building something that would become a living, breathing thing. The 2D nature of that is one aspect of that identity. There’s the… So the name, the identity, all that stuff. But then beyond that, how does it talk? How does it walk? What are the rituals that it has? So really helping for a long time at OFB what I focused on with clients and my business partner, Christine Edgington, who’s amazing and a brand strategist, and now the president of Warstic, ironically. We would pitch to companies that we could help you build what you are not able to get out of your brain to a point where then you can take it and then go run it, and of course then do the really hard part. But it takes something that didn’t exist before and now it exists and now we can call it this. I’m fascinated still by that.

Debbie:

Right? Same.

Ben:

I’m still obsessed with that. Creating the identity. It’s just, I don’t know, there’s something about it.

Debbie:

It’s bringing something to life.

Ben:

Yeah.

Debbie:

It’s interesting though. People always ask me how I define branding and I say, I believe it’s meaning manufacture. And so I’m attracted to that word too, that something about that construction that I find so rich and intriguing.

Ben:

I just love complex systems and then trying to, like Jack said, trying to take complexity and things that don’t seemingly work together naturally, and finding where they do work together and simplifying them down and to then a new thing that then can exist on its own. And because at this point we have so many brands, for God’s sakes. We’ve almost got to put two or three things together now and then make them a new thing, right?

Debbie:

Yes, absolutely. You’ve stated that OneFastBuffalo as it stands today more than ever, is an independent singular underestimated built for survival creative force focused on the relentless search for clear vision. Why do you think you’re underestimated?

Ben:

I don’t know because I don’t think we play in the design world. We’re not in the magazines, we’re not in the-

Debbie:

But you could be, Ben.

Ben:

Well, I know. And it wasn’t that I was like, “Oh, I don’t want awards.” It just never really occurred to me because I was too competitively focused on getting the next client to give me the cool project to express for them what we could do, and we just ran under the radar like that. I like being underestimated. I think it’s the fun of life honestly, is to come out of nowhere and go, “Wow, look what they did.” Being the underdog fuels me, to be honest with you.

Debbie:

Well, that’s certainly a big part of the Warstic brand.

Ben:

It’s probably all built on that concept.

Debbie:

And it’s so interesting because that hunt and being the underdog and hunting for being better than maybe what you are, why did you find that to be something that you wanted to be so much a significant part of what the brand stands for?

Ben:

I think it goes back to my years of working with client and realizing the brands that worked were the… There was a lot of guys and girls that came to us and say, “Hey, we got this great business idea. It’s going to make a lot of money,” but they weren’t passionately individually personally connected to that idea. And the ones that were passionately connected to their business ideas were the ones that got through that first three, four years grind to actually make it succeed. Because no matter what, how good of an idea, it’s three, four years of just horrible grinding on it. So I knew when I started something like Warstic or started getting the idea that I should do my own brands as mostly an outlet to not doing client work, that it should be something I really cared about, right?

Ben:

So, my first inclination was, “Hey, baseball’s boring looking. I think I can bring a more exciting aesthetic to it.” But as a branding person, I know it needs to have meaning to people, and so I went to that underdog. What we tell parents is that we’re hoping that the kids that use Warstic, and we’ve seen this really come to fruition as there’s kids that just don’t believe in their ability, and they’re very shy and they just, they haven’t come out of that shell yet. Our tagline is literally, it’s not the weapon, it’s the warrior, which is crazy. I’m selling you a bat and I’m telling you, it’s not the bat that’s going to make you better, it’s you.

Debbie:

It’s the person.

Ben:

And I’m super proud of that because we have so many kids over the last however many years this has been, that actually has happened. And the reality is those kids are probably not going to play in the Major Leagues, but to see kids blossom and to have more confidence, confidence is a great gift to any kid. And you can do so much more after that.

Debbie:

In a sport where the brands have been around for centuries, what made you decide to pick baseball bats?

Ben:

Well, it was a world I knew and I knew the lingo. I could say, “Hey, I could hit [Alina 00:54:10].” These things that normal people in the street don’t know, but us baseball players in the deck out know. So I was well one, I know the lingo. I know the world, I know how the players think about their equipment. So that’s a good place to start any business, it’s a niche. Someone had brought it up to me as a client idea, some guy called me one time and said, “Hey, I want to do a baseball bat business.” And he is like, “How much does it cost to brand?” And I was like, “Well, I’m good at this, it costs XYZ.” And he’s like, “Oh, I can’t afford that,” hung up. I don’t know if that guy was real or some kind of angel or some weird thing, but that is the first time I thought, “Baseball bats are a really simple thing, I bet I could figure that out.” And I spent 500 bucks getting them done, there’s a lot to it but I designed the website myself, I designed the brand in three… I did the whole thing in three months and I launched it.

Debbie:

The Warstic logo is a simple two line symbol you’ve deemed war stripes. So, talk about your design aesthetic.

Ben:

Oh boy. When I was in my 20’s it was just way too much, was my design aesthetic, so much. And this logo’s probably the best example of the opposite idea, more the Eastern idea of taking things away until only what needs to exist can exist. Or the idea that I use the least amount of pixels and create the most amount of impact. Most baseball bats, they put their brand name on the front of the baseball bat.

Debbie:

You put it on the back.

Ben:

Say [Jenkins’s 00:55:34] baseball bats or whatever, you put it on the front because that’s the billboard and everybody wants to see it. And I was like, “Well, you know what? That doesn’t look cool though.” And when I’m staring at a hundred mile fastball that might hit me in the head and kill me, I like to look at something that actually helps me calm down in that moment and not freak out, and seeing your name on the baseball bat isn’t going to help me do that. So I thought, “Well, let’s put the name on the back like a great piece of…” A modern piece of furniture, the designers is not sticking it on the front and ruin it, he puts it on a cool label on the back. So it actually said Warstic on the back, and the line started as just a feeling, literally a décor on the bat that to me would be calming.

Debbie:

So it’s like a focusing mechanism?

Ben:

Actually, we teach kids now that is a focusing method. We have a breathing technique where they go, they count down from one to 10, going up one line and then back the other. So we do pitch it as a focusing tool, but we teach kids and it’s amazing what kids pick up. Six-year-olds going, “Hey, what’s the logo mean?” “Well, the left side means the past and the right side means the future. And it’s all about staying in between the lines, being in the moment.” So it tears me up it because it… I can super plan it like that, but that’s real to kids. It is, and I understand-

Debbie:

And you’re helping them become who they are.

Ben:

Yeah, and I understand how hard it is to be in the batters box. But then to see kids go through much more traumatic things than I ever had to go through where there’s native kids we work with or something like that. But they get that it extends beyond stupid sport of baseball. So it’s the dumbest, simplest logo I’ve ever designed that just had the most meaning. And it’s just so cool to see it permeate kids’ lives like that. So it’s super cool.

Debbie:

You have a Warstic creed where you outline how there is an ongoing conversation happening at Warstic with your tribe about helping future generations of stick warriors connect mind and heart with mechanics. So it seems like while you’re selling sports equipment, you’re also really helping to train young minds to be able to use sports to become stronger as people.

Ben:

Absolutely. And that goes back to me being a bad baseball player and realizing that. On paper, I actually did have the physical abilities. I was super fast, I was strong. I could hit the ball a long way. I could throw the ball like a rocket. I had all these physical abilities, but my brain did not let those things work often enough because of perfectionism, because of lack of belief in my own self for, I don’t even know what reason. And I’m very aware of that. Once I finished playing, I really looked back and go, “Oh.” And knowing Major League players now, I clearly see the difference. It’s not the physical, especially in baseball, it’s the mental, that’s the warrior. A warrior is not so much, “Oh a big guy with a spear and he can kill you,” and this and that. It’s the mentality of a warrior that… I’m the biggest Karate Kid fan ever. I grew up in the ’80s, man. Karate Kid, Mr. Miyagi, he didn’t teach the kid how to do all these techniques, he built self-confidence in this kid to do incredible things.

Debbie:

Yeah, he taught him how to think.

Ben:

Taught him how to think, right? So, I don’t know, that just felt like what it… I basically said, “Well, I’ll make this brand out of my weakness.”

Debbie:

In 2016, Warstic bats were approved for use in Major League baseball. How did you make that happen?

Ben:

I acquired two business partners at the same time. Jack White and Ian Kinsler. So I’m from Texas and everybody knows who Ian is. He’s a Texas Rangers Hall of Famer, this kind of thing.

Debbie:

How did you approach him? Because you approached him before Jack.

Ben:

Strangely enough, I had remained friends with the drummer of my high school band. And he’s a good businessman today and I said, “Hey man, I think I need to take this Warstic project seriously and make it a real company, but I’m going to need funds to do that. And I’m going to need partners.” And in brainstorming with him one day he said, “Oh, I know some pro athletes, would you want to meet Ian Kinsler?” And I was like, “Oh, why not?” So, how weird is it that my high school drummer introduced me to Ian Kinsler, who introduced me to Jack White? It’s just very strange.

Debbie:

And for my design listeners that might not be following baseball-

Ben:

Maybe not.

Debbie:

Ian Kinsler is the four-time Major League Baseball All Star and Texas Rangers great. So, he’s a big deal.

Ben:

Oh, he’s a big deal, and then played for the Tigers and stuff, so he’s one of the best second basemen that’s ever played the game. And he just looked at it in the same way that Jack said and said, “Hey, we need this in baseball. We don’t have cool stuff like this. We don’t have enough. We have these same old choices,” right?

Debbie:

Yeah.

Ben:

He goes, “I feel this. I can feel the energy from it. I relate to it.” So he then took that bat into the Major Leagues and risked his own reputation and proceeded by the way, to have one of his best years ever, which was scary. But he did it, and he proved it, and that’s his thing.

Debbie:

Do you think the bat had something to do with it?

Ben:

I think it actually, he was getting a little older at that point. And I do think it put a little new energy into him and he, Ian takes it into the highest level of baseball that you can possibly be and hits 28 home runs with it. And all of a sudden we’re like, “Oh, now we have both. We have performance, and Ian represents that, and we have creativity and Jack represents that.” And I tell them that’s why they’re the business partners. They represent the two halves of what Warstic is about, which would be just really great design and creativity and doing whatever we want, but paired with the highest level of performance. And that’s also, that’s the threshold that I wanted to cross was, I didn’t want to make toy bats or just things that you put on your wall or something like that. Uh-huh (negative), I want to make things you use in real life that happen to look beautiful.

Debbie:

Despite 300% year over year growth in 2021, Warstic operates with an estimated consumer awareness of about 20% in the baseball and softball markets. And as I mentioned, you’re really up against century old crusty brands, but you’re growing every year and your president Christine Edgington, as you mentioned, has stated that, “You know you’re ruffling feathers and you’re not letting up.” How are you ruffling feathers?

Ben:

Well, us designers know, I think we have weapons at our disposal that non-creative people don’t have. And those baseball bat brands don’t have those weapons. So, it’s just our creativity and our ability to express things in a more human way and exciting way than the other brands because branding 101, man, you can take, let’s say the biggest eight brands that have existed for 40 to 80 years, and you put them on the same bucket. You could throw any one name and the names are interchangeable because they don’t represent or stand for anything. And the best thing you can do in branding is stand for something. The other brands’ heads are spinning because we have a story. We have a conversation that we can have beyond, “Oh, this bat’s made out of a P99 alloy.” It’s so boring, it’s so boring talking about bats.

Debbie:

You’ve evolved from exclusively making bats to making equipment for lacrosse, skateboarding, skiing, snowboarding, surfboards, fishing. How do you envision the brand growing and evolving over the next 10 years?

Ben:

It’s funny, because this is a constant branding conversation we have internally, Christine and I, is if we would’ve been named something else, maybe it couldn’t extend to these other things. But the reality is, think about the name Warstic, in it’s simplest form it probably means warrior’s stick. I took the K off to make it its own word, which is an old branding trick. I don’t know, I owned that word in that way.

Debbie:

I’m so glad that you took the K off-

Ben:

Oh, it would suck.

Debbie:

So many people put K’s in instead of-

Ben:

But it’s an old branding trick, but it singularized it. It created a new word. Well, that word has nothing to do with baseball if you think about it. So, you really look at the different sports, there’s golf, tennis, lacrosse, and stick becomes this thing. I surf a lot and I’d be like, “Hey bro, you got a new stick?” We actually say that’s, that’s a thing. So a lot of things can be sticks at the same time, and it gives us these new pallets to play with. So hunting arrows, pickleball paddles. It’s fun, and then it’s funny because the mentality part of it, the message of Warstic, it plays no matter what. You’re a hockey player? You better have grit, you better have [crosstalk 01:04:08]-

Debbie:

Hockey stick, yeah. Absolutely.

Ben:

In lacrosse. I think it plays, and so we have a plan over the next five, six years to slowly, carefully, very intuitively enter those sports.

Debbie:

So, who is the big decision maker in your collaboration? Oh, they’re both pointing at each other. Oh, listeners, they’re both pointing at the other.

Ben:

The day I met him to be honest, and he said, “Hey, I’d really love to invest with you,” and he’s held true to this. He said, “I’ll never step on your toes.” And I thought in my mind, “It’s totally fine, man. Step on my toes.” I had such admiration for him as an artist, whether it be music, whether it be design, whatever. I did not care, and that was a big deal for me too.

Debbie:

Yeah, you’re a trained designer.

Ben:

We designers have egos, we all do.

Debbie:

Yes we do.

Ben:

And so I knew I had a sense that this could be scary. I did Warstic to get a little bit away from clients and to not have someone tell me what to do, what they like, or “Hey, you like purple? I don’t. I don’t care.” That’s why I did it. I wanted that freedom to just make whatever I want, whether I’m bothered or not. So that moment was I… But I bought into that moment because I said, “Hey, this is a chance to work with someone that I would love to collaborate with, and it’ll be crazy and it’ll be scary.” And 99.9% of the time, it’s totally fine because he’s a gentleman and he just is, and he has respect for other people’s art. And so I have to do a lot of the heavy lifting just because it’s my daily job and he has 1,900 things going, but it’s just a process of getting it going and then truly showing him what we’re doing and going, “Hey, does this direction feel good to you? Yes or no?”

Ben:

And it’s a true collaboration in every sense of the word. And the weird thing about Jack and I is, we’re very different when it comes to design. He loves primary colors, I never use primary colors. I use very earth tone things, and things like that more nature type stuff, but there’s always this 40% of things that we design, we show each other, “Oh, look at this sick thing I saw.” There’s a space where we both like the same things, and so a lot of it is just making sure that we find those things, but it is a brand.

Debbie:

Mm-hmm (affirmative), and it is a company.

Ben:

And it is my job to say, “All brands should evolve over time, but I have to keep it within itself too. But how do we make this art keep evolving?” Like you said, keep the train rolling for the business.

Debbie:

Jack, you invested a million dollars into Warstic. The company has dramatically grown since that investment. How do you think about the return on investments? Are you more of a long view kind of person? Do you expect quarterly returns? Talk about-

Jack:

It’s very hard to find an abacus for your living room wall that has a million pegs on it, that was the hardest part, but I check it off every day whenever in the morning I have coffee, I slide one of those beads over. When you love an idea, you just immediately your investment, you wash your hands of it immediately and just think this is not about bean counting or whatever, and expecting to see a profit. My investment’s always been the same thing, that if I could combine something that I actually love and feel a bit of a passion for, then it’s interesting to me. So, it was real easy with Warstic because it had so much potential and it’s such an untapped market.

Debbie:

And you’ve evolved now from exclusively making bats to making equipment for lacrosse, skateboarding, skiing, snowboarding, surfboards, and even fishing. I have one last question for you both, your flagship store is located at the corner of Malcolm X Avenue and Main Street in Dallas, Texas. Is that address intentional?

Jack:

It was just an added blessing, it seemed like. We found the building and it was so perfect, and that was also the cross street we thought, “Wow, how incredible is that?” And that neighborhood of Deep Ellum had such a deep musical history too going back to the early blues days. And it’s nice to be part of that, to exemplify and bring a little bit of that corner back to life.

Debbie:

Well, congratulations on all of your success. I can’t wait to see how you grow this brand together.

Jack:

Thanks so much.

Ben:

Thanks, Debbie.

Debbie:

You can see more about Jack White’s new album on his website, jackwhiteiii.com, or his entire body of work at thirdmanrecords.com. You can see more of Ben Jenkins’ work at onefastbuffalo.com, and you can find out everything about Warstic on their website warstic.com. That’s spelled W-A-R-S-T-I-C. This is the 18th year, first time I’m saying that, we’ve been podcasting Design Matters, and I’d like to thank you for listening. And remember, we can talk about making a difference, we can make a difference, or we can do both. I’m Debbie Milman, and I look forward to talking with you again soon.

Recorded Voice:

Design matters is produced for the TED Audio Collective by Curtis Fox Productions. Interviews are usually recorded at the School of Visual Arts Master’s and Branding Program in New York city, the first and longest running branding program in the world. The editor in chief of Design Matters media is Emily Weiland.

The post Best of Design Matters: Jack White and Ben Jenkins appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Debbie Millman:

Megan Rapinoe is a two-time World Cup champion and an Olympic gold medalist, to name just a few of her accomplishments. Her playmaking and craftiness on the field are legendary, but she’s also known for being one of the rare athletes of her stature to speak her mind about politics. In 2012, she came out as a lesbian when most gay athletes didn’t talk much about such things. In 2016, she took a knee during the national anthem at an international match in solidarity with football player Colin Kaepernick. And she’s been deeply involved in pay equity issues in soccer. Megan Rapinoe was also an author. Her memoir One Life was published in 2020 and instantly became a New York Times bestseller. She joins me today to talk about her life and her extraordinary career. Megan Rapinoe, welcome to Design Matters.

Megan Rapinoe:

Hi, how are you? Thank you for having me.

Debbie Millman:

Absolutely, Megan, I understand you do a phenomenal Jim Carrey imitation.

Megan Rapinoe:

Oh my gosh. Who told you that?

Debbie Millman:

Oh, I don’t know. I just was wondering if you might be willing to share that with us today.

Megan Rapinoe:

All righty then. I do love Jim Carrey so much. I actually have a slightly funny story. I was at the Super Bowl last year and you walk out, it was like droves of people. I don’t really geek out over celebrity at all. I always find it interesting, it’s like what are you going to do with the picture that you chased after this person for? But let me tell you, he was riding in a golf cart or something, chased after him, and in just typical loser fan fashion, went to take the picture and actually turned the phone off. I didn’t push the volume button, I pushed the off button, and I was like, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I’m such a loser. This is so weird.” I still have the picture. Of course, I did nothing with it because what do you do with those pictures? But it’s really the only celebrity that I’ve ever run down. I just think he’s so funny and so thoughtful, and I think even what he’s done sort of beyond with his painting and just his pontifications about things are really interesting. But yeah, big Jim Carrey fan growing up. Definitely.

Debbie Millman:

You were born and raised in Redding, California. Your dad worked as a commercial fisherman, a car salesman, a crane operator, and was the owner of a construction company. And your mom worked as a dental assistant, a clerk at a shipping company, and for over 30 years has worked the late shift at Jack’s Grill. And so I assume it’s safe to say you inherited their work ethic?

Megan Rapinoe:

I think so, yeah. Both of them just continue to be hard workers. We’re at the point now where I’m like, “Just retire, you guys.” It’s like, “We’re done with the working. You can just live your lives now.” That kind of just like you get up and you do your job every day, and it’s hard sometimes and you don’t like it and it’s not always what you want to do, but it’s oftentimes in service of the things that you do want to do. So that’s sort of makes it all worth it.

Debbie Millman:

You’re the youngest of the family, but also have a fraternal twin sister named Rachel. And I understand when you were a child, you were shy and let Rachel speak for you. And that went back and forth several times, that sort of dynamic changed over the years. But when did you start speaking up for yourself?

Megan Rapinoe:

Yeah, it’s really interesting. We’ve gone through these sort of ebbs and flows. We’re like each other’s yin and yang, our sort of perfect balance. I was pretty gregarious I think growing up. And when we first went to kindergarten, I was the one speaking for her, she was painfully shy. And for that reason my mom split us up. My parents split us up once we got into first grade, pretty much all the way through. In high school we started taking classes together just because you don’t have the same class all the time. But around fifth and sixth grade, I think that’s when puberty started to happen. I feel like I showed up for sixth grade and everything was different, it was so bizarre, and I could never really figure it out really until I figured out that I was gay, and I was like, okay, this all makes a lot more sense. Everything is making a lot more sense now.

I mean I still definitely found so much comfort in sports and being able to kind of just be myself there. But really from sixth grade until college, especially in middle school, I mean, quite literally following Rachel around. And we tell this funny story. At times she would turn around and actually run into me, because I was just right there, and she’s like, “What are you doing?” And I’m like, “I don’t know. I have no idea what I’m doing. You’re the one that’s supposed to know what you’re doing, so I could follow you.” And High school was a little bit better, I found my feet a little bit more. But I think once I figured out I was gay, it just seemed like the whole world made sense for the first time.

Debbie Millman:

Totally understand. You and Rachel were natural athletes early on and I read that you both figured out how to crawl out of your cribs really young. And one time you did it on your own and your mom came into your bedroom and saw that you were holding Rachel’s hand through the crib bars, and so I assume you’ve always been close.

Megan Rapinoe:

We have, yes. We’ve always been very close. We’ve always kind of tag-teamed everything. It’s kind of one of those things like we can fight, but nobody can say anything towards us. That particular story, I think Rachel had gotten in trouble for something, who knows, we were like two years old. There’s a couple stories like that where one of us would get in trouble and the other one would just basically guilt my mom into feeling so bad about whatever, quote unquote, punishment was coming, whether it was just being in the crib, or I think one time Rachel was about to get her mouth washed out with soap or something, which is just such a weird punishment. And we were basically just like, “You’re the worst mom in the world,” and she was like, “Oh my god, am I?” And we’re like, “I don’t know, but we’re trying to get out of this punishment, and don’t punish one of us.”

So the story of the hand through the crib, my mom came in, Rachel had done something, so she was in a timeout in her crib, and I was laying sort of below the crib with my little hand. I mean, it’s like the cutest thing ever. My little hand up there and we were holding hands, probably chatting or laughing, or commiserating, about the punishment that was being doled out. But yeah, we pulled on the heartstrings of my mom a lot, I think.

Debbie Millman:

Your brother Brian was five years older than you and first introduced you to soccer. And from the time you could first walk, you and Rachel would chase soccer balls around the big oak tree in your backyard. And I read that whenever he did a trick with a soccer ball, all you needed was to watch him once to have it down. Was it just soccer you had a natural ability for or were you just athletically gifted overall?

Megan Rapinoe:

I think athletically gifted overall, both Rachel and I. We played every sport and we played against each other too, I think that was one of the things. In all the sports, but at a very young age and having older siblings, being around his older friends, obviously we’re the youngest, so even my other siblings, we were always sort of forced to kind of level up. But I think even from a young age, when we were five and six, it was very clear running faster and more aggressive and more skilled in all of those ways. So my parents were like, “Whoa, we have something on our hands. We don’t really know what it is.” And we’re from a pretty small town, not really a preeminent sports town or anything, so I think we stood out quite a lot.

Debbie Millman:

When you were five, you announced you want you to cut your hair short like your brother Brian’s and wear only boys clothes from then on, and though you loved your twin, your brother was everything you wanted to be, funny, clever, cheerful, popular, outgoing and good at all sports. And you said your mother took it completely in stride. Was she always that accepting of the directions that you were taking and the ways in which you want to express yourself?

Megan Rapinoe:

I think mostly. I think when we came out in college, both my sister and I came out in college, that was a little bit harder. I think for all parents you kind of have a dream or a sort of vision of what you think your kids’ lives are going to be or what you want what you want for them. You want them to be happy, and I think as a parent you want everything to be as frictionless as possible. And obviously that’s not possible in the world, and the more dynamic you get as a person, the more friction seems to come. But it was interesting and from such a young age, I think she was protective of me as well, because I was called a boy all the time. I didn’t really care and I was kind of like, this is great because then it’s like I’m more my brother and that felt more natural. I don’t think it was even really totally conscious for her of like, “Oh, Megan’s expressing her gender in a different way.” I don’t think she was thinking about that. We didn’t have that kind of language at all back then, but I think it was just like whatever, she’s fine. She’s playing sports, she’s doing her thing, she has a bowl cut, I’ll put a barrette in it sometimes.

But I think she just wasn’t really up for the fight. I think be us being the youngest of so many kids as well, she was probably just tired and she’s like, whatever, who cares? It doesn’t really matter. She probably learned at that point, the more you try to control your kids, the more they’re going to do whatever you’re trying to control them against. So I think she just realized that that’s kind of just who I was and she didn’t really find anything wrong with that, and I think both for my sister and myself, just kind of allowed us to be who we were.

Debbie Millman:

In order to express yourself in the way that you feel most sort of authentic, and also to throw yourself into physical activity, really does require a lot of confidence and a certain sense of being able to rely on yourself. For example, I’m just not physically talented at all and so I tend to be really afraid of things and I hold myself back from any kind of asserting of myself physically. Did you ever experience any fear moving through life through sports?

Megan Rapinoe:

Not a lot of fear. Again, I think having the experience of being a twin and us always being together and playing one-on-one, literally everything, made up games, all the sports, sports that require 20 people. Somehow we distilled it down to a one-on-one situation with everything. And then having older siblings as well. I think that was always a place where I felt the safest. And I think as I got older, that was always a place that felt more safe. I think in my high school years, the only kind of, I don’t know if it’s fear or insecurity, would be like when we started playing with bigger clubs or bigger tournaments or we played on a couple of essentially what are all state teams or something like that, where I was like, “Oh my gosh, these people are so good.” And I was a little bit of a late bloomer even just physically.

And then I was also just never the best in my own household either, with Rachel. Really until my junior year in high school, neither of us were really so much better than the other, but I felt like I was always just a little bit behind her. So maybe just a little insecurity around going to the big city and playing with players that played on the biggest clubs that I had heard about or the best teams or whatever, just kind of finding my feet a little bit. But I think sports mostly was always a place where nothing else that I was feeling uncomfortable by. I sort of had already figured it out. I was like, okay, I can exist here and feel really confident and safe. And I think that’s where a lot of my general confidence came from, is having that ability to really express myself and being sort of allowed to express myself too.

I think coming from a smaller town and playing on not the preeminent club teams that are so focused on winning, and I think at a young age in youth sports, pretty much if you hit puberty quicker or you’re faster or you’re stronger, you’re going to be more dominant. And I think that’s what a lot of the club teams focus on or what a lot of the youth teams focus on, instead of skill and understanding of the game. And so I just didn’t really have that and our team wasn’t that, and so all my coaches were like, “Okay, we see that you have something different, something special. We’re going to cultivate that.” So I feel like I was rewarded for things in the environment that I was in, that maybe in a different environment I wouldn’t have been or would’ve been overlooked or stifled in different ways.

Debbie Millman:

Since there wasn’t a girls team available in your neighborhood, when you were six years old, you and Rachel were invited to play with the under eight boys team. Then your dad started an all girls team, is that right?

Megan Rapinoe:

He did, yeah. It was basically just a mashing up of all the best athletes in the town that we could find. We all played almost every sport, it was basketball or softball or track. Pretty much all of us did all of the sports all the time. We’re like, let’s just put this together and kind of see how it goes.

Debbie Millman:

And you said you were highly emotional at that time with really no idea how to handle your emotions. How did you end up being able to do that as you moved through elementary school?

Megan Rapinoe:

Oh gosh. I did eventually grow out of my tantrums, I think before elementary school, so that was good. I think probably having the balance of being a twin too, you’re just sort of always having to balance with someone else. And I think sports was a really big outlet for a lot of that just self-expression. And I think that was one thing that meant a lot to me and I think still means a lot to me, is my ability and the need internally to express myself and who I am and the things that I care about. So I think sports was a really big outlet for that, but I think it was probably much later until I really learned how to express my emotions or even be able to name them, and I think just over time becoming a little bit more mature. But yeah, I have some epic tantrums from my childhood.

Debbie Millman:

By junior high you said you were the Ma Barker to your sister’s Sweet Muffin?

Megan Rapinoe:

Yeah. Yeah, I do, I actually have a tattoo.

Debbie Millman:

What does that mean?

Megan Rapinoe:

You can see it on the screen.

Debbie Millman:

Oh you do.

Megan Rapinoe:

Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

Oh my God. Yes.

Megan Rapinoe:

My mom was actually really upset that my dad’s dad, my grandfather Jack, gave me that nickname. And I think Ma Barker was a famous mob boss, serial killer, so I don’t think it was really a compliment at the time at all. My mom was so mad at him for that. But I think it’s come full circle. I’m not a mob boss or killing multiple people, but she probably had to do things different. She probably had to have a bit of ingenuity and a toughness and obviously bucking against the status quo and just being a little bit unruly. I think that’s part of what my personality was as a kid, is just being a little bit of a showman and a little bit unruly. And then of course if I would get upset or embarrassed, then that’s when the tantrums would come. And my sister was much quieter and sort of sweeter on the surface than I was.

Debbie Millman:

As you continue to play soccer, you’ve said that your other sister, your older sister Jenny, predicted that you were going to get a gold medal one day. But as I was reading your memoir, I didn’t get the sense that either of your parents were as motivated as someone say Serena Williams’s dad, in terms of motivating their children to become elite athletes. Do you feel like your family had a real sense that you had what it took to become a gold medalist?

Megan Rapinoe:

I think my parents had a real sense when we got into high school that we could get college paid for, that we could go on a full ride through soccer, so I think that was more so the primary motivation. I mean, obviously we loved it and we were into it and they were like, “Okay, if you guys are into it, we’re into it,” but also this is a lot of work and a lot of money. So we had those frank conversations like, “If you guys aren’t really into this, we’re not going to force you to do it, and we’re also not going to spend all this time and money doing all of this if you aren’t the drivers of this.” And we definitely were. I mean, of course we complained at some points because it was a lot. I mean we got up early most weekends and drove really far and missed a lot, and it was a huge commitment kind of on everyone’s part. But I think especially early on in high school, it was more like, okay, we’re going to really dig into this soccer and they have an opportunity to get their education paid for, once recruiting opened up, I mean, to some of the best colleges in the country. So I think that was a big motivator.

And I think they kind of knew that there was another level of talent there, but we didn’t really have a ton of the comparison because we just were from such a small area. Our club team was kind of a rag tag bunch of misfits put all together. So it wasn’t really until later. I think it was late in my junior year, it was my first youth national team invitation to play with them. But it’s always just like, I mean, who knows. From that team, there’s like two players that made it as far as we did.

I think for female athletes too, just so much was unknown. I mean, we obviously had the World Cup, such a preeminent moment in women’s sports, in 1999, so we were 14 I think at the time. But you weren’t seeing everything on TV all the time like it is now. We weren’t seeing the coverage, we weren’t having those. So many of those moments have been created either during my career or just before, so it was probably a little bit of couldn’t see it, didn’t even know that it existed, but maybe something like that was possible.

Debbie Millman:

When I interviewed Chrissy Evert, she said that despite her father being a tennis coach, all of the children in her family were being trained really just to get full ride scholarships. They weren’t planning on … I mean, they certainly hoped that it was something that could be possible, but the real goal was we’re not going to pay for college.

Megan Rapinoe:

I think that was the focus for my parents too because they couldn’t afford to send us to the types of colleges that we were being recruited by or send us to a four year. We would had maybe gone to junior college or taken out student loans or something. So that was, I think, something that was very motivating for them of like we want to use this talent skill that they have to get them the best education so they can have whatever kind of life they want to have.

Debbie Millman:

You mentioned that you woke up early every weekend morning. I know that your weekend mornings really began at 4:00 AM, when your parents, your sister, you’d all pile into the family minivan for a long drive to Sacramento for soccer practice, for an 8:00 AM game. And you’ve said that while you both had natural ability with instinctive hand-eye coordination and physical fearlessness, your ferocity also had a lot to do with the fact that you played against each other all the time. How did that influence your competitiveness?

Megan Rapinoe:

People always ask if we’re competitive and I think the undertone of what they always are asking is like did you guys fight a lot? Were you competitive? So almost like in the jealousy strain against each other. And we didn’t really have that aspect, but we fought to the death on everything, because it was just the two of us and we loved playing sports, we loved being active, we loved being outside. I think we learned to battle in this way and be competitive and get the most out of ourselves because that was going to be the only way that I could beat Rachel, who for such long stretches beat me at everything because she was better and stronger and she hit puberty a little bit earlier, and so she was physically more dominant. And so it was always this thing like you got to get the best out of yourself to even just beat this person. I think as that translated to team sports, we also knew each other’s level and level of commitment and level of trying and working and the sort of work ethic. So if ever we didn’t feel like the other person was giving their all, we sort of got into it with each other.

And I think that kind of helped set the standard for the team as well, sort of unknowingly. I mean for us it’s just normal to bicker like that. And it was funny because I usually played forward and she played defense, opposite ends of the field, and we’d have these kind of epic screaming matches. But then it was just sort of over when the game was over, and ultimately we just wanted to win and wanted each other to be successful. But I think there’s just the level of honesty that we still have to this day. It’s like no one can really talk to her the way that I talk to her and vice versa, both good and bad. It’s just a little bit more honest. And I think just as a twin, there’s just a level of understanding and intimacy that you have with someone that just doesn’t really exist anywhere in any other relationship that you have.

Debbie Millman:

By 2003, you and Rachel accepted full scholarships to attend the University of Portland, but shortly thereafter you received a call from a coach on the US Women’s National Team offering you a spot to play in the FIFA under 19 Women’s World Championship in Thailand later that year. And you said the experience the year before on the Women’s National Team felt very much like a one-off, but now a new pattern was emerging. You’d been chosen as one of the 11 best players in the country. What did that feel like?

Megan Rapinoe:

I mean, kind of surreal. I think for a long time I kind of had imposter syndrome. I knew that I was good, but then I wasn’t from the best team or from the best club or never won the best tournaments, never was really the best. So I think it took me a little while to settle in to what it even meant to be on that team, even just the training environments and the training habits, and to just feel more comfortable. But I think that experience kind of gave that to me. The coach was amazing and I feel like really valued what I brought to the game, which I feel like is different. I still feel like that, very different.

So I feel like it was strange a little bit, and it was weird to be away from Rachel as well and weird not to be on the same team. But I think it helped me grow as well, sort of forced me to grow and put me in this different environment that really challenged me, because I was uncomfortable and I didn’t know everyone and a lot of other players sort of knew each other and I was this weird kid from Redding, California. They’re like, “Where?” I’m like, “I know.” I don’t really know how to … It’s not LA and it’s not San Francisco, but it is California. I assure you that. And I think while it was very uncomfortable and challenged me a lot, it was sort of one of those pivotal points in my life where I was like, oh, okay, I can do this and be in this level of competition, not just with the US players, but on a global stage as well.

Debbie Millman:

You said that you knew that the way you played was different. How so?

Megan Rapinoe:

I’ve just never been the fastest or the strongest or the fittest. I’ve never really had a physical imposing power over anyone. I’m not going to really just run past anyone. So I think there’s a lack of physical flash that immediately it’s like, okay, well then what are you doing? I think my game is much more predicated on not just understanding where I am in space, but where my teammates are. It’s like I might not be scoring the goals or making the assists, but I might make the pass that makes the pass or finding those little areas that are creative. I think I play a little bit off pace or unexpected, just kind of seeing things that are maybe developing, I see it before anybody else sees it. So the sort of vision and creativity.

And I think for me it’s always about who’s around me and everyone else. I’ve never been that kind of individual player because I can’t really be. I’m not like an exceptional dribbler or super fast where I can get around people or talented in that way. So it’s always been who’s around me and how can we create an advantage or create an overload or put the other people at a disadvantage? I think that’s what I’m always looking for. Teams or players are always going to try to take away the thing that you’re best at or take away something, so I’m always thinking, what are you trying to take away? You’re going to have to put more into one area than another, so I’m going to try to exploit that other area and just try to use my brain a little bit more, my understanding of space to basically get the ball in.

Debbie Millman:

You’re considered one of the greatest soccer players to have played the game. You have played with some of the greatest soccer players to play the game. Your fiance is one of the greatest basketball players to play the game. From your perspective, do you have to think that you’re the best in order to be the best?

Megan Rapinoe:

Oh, good question. I never look at it like that. I don’t think I’m the best. I definitely think that there’s other players that are better than me. I’m certainly better at certain things than maybe anyone, or other players, but I’m always thinking all I can be is me. I think playing on a team for so long, especially a team as successful as the US Women’s National Team where you’re literally playing with the best players in the world all of the time, I think the comparison game is very dangerous, because you’re just never going to be able to be someone else. So it’s always like, how can I bring what I can bring because I know nobody else can bring that. I do think you need to have a level of confidence and even aspirational confidence of like when I go out there, I don’t necessarily think like, oh, I’m the best, but I think when I’m at my best, then I feel confident against anyone or feel like no one can beat me or feel like I’m going to be able to impose myself on the game.

There’s some people who have a legitimate argument that they are the best ever and I think that you should be honest and confident about your assessment. Sometimes athletes want to do the whole, I don’t know, it’s kind of fake humility, and I’m not really into that. I’m like, if you’re the best, you’re the best. I think Sue’s got a legitimate argument that she’s the best point guard of all time and she should say that and not feel shy about that. Or someone like Diana or Maya or LeBron James or Messi, I think Messi’s got a legitimate argument he’s the best male soccer player of all time. But I actually legitimately don’t think I am. I think I’m very good and have my place among the very best, but I sort of look at it like I just want to be my best and always bring what I know that nobody else has that I have to try to influence the game that way.

Debbie Millman:

When you first joined the United States Women’s National Team, you said that if anything could bring you down to size, it was walking into the national team locker room as the youngest and least experienced player. How do you get over being intimidated?

Megan Rapinoe:

I think a little bit of what I was just saying, of having the appropriate level of respect and admiration for all the greats that you’re playing with. I mean obviously when I first came into the team, Kristine Lilly was still there, obviously Abby was playing, Mia and Julie and Brandy had just retired, Kate Markgraf was still playing. So I’m clearly not at their level at this point, but I think also being like, well, I have something different. I have something that is also special, and so trying to focus on the areas of my game that are special and that could bring something different, always learning, always trying to get better, but understanding that I could never be those players. And so being intimidated or feeling less confident because I’m not those players didn’t seem that useful.

And it took a little bit of time because oftentimes you are being compared to those players. Certain players make a roster and other players don’t, or some players start and other players don’t. But I feel like even the times when I hadn’t been starting, it was more just like, how can I continue? The only thing that’s going to get me on the field is me playing my game. It’s not going to be replicating someone else’s game better than they can actually do it. So just trying to keep that in mind that everybody brings something special and the thing that makes teams special, I feel like, is when everyone gets to be their unique, individual self with the team in mind. And that’s I think when you get the best out of everyone and then collectively as a team, I think that’s when you get something really special.

Debbie Millman:

In October 2006, almost a year to the day before the 2007 FIFA World Cup was scheduled to take place, you tore your ACL. And you did your best to recover, but came back too soon and tore it again, and that resulted in you missing both the World Cup and the 2008 Beijing Olympics. Did you worry that your soccer career was over at that point?

Megan Rapinoe:

Maybe a little bit. My mom definitely worried. She even said that. I was like, “That’s not the kind of energy that I need, mom.” We need full-blown, unfettered confidence right now.

Debbie Millman:

Right. Lie to me if you have to.

Megan Rapinoe:

Yeah. I’m like, “I don’t need your anxiety coming out here.” I never really felt like that. I mean, even after the second ACL tear happened in quick succession after the first one, I never really felt that. I never got that sense from my physical body either. I know that I had two knee injuries in a row, but it wasn’t like I had crazy cartilage damage or arthritis or anything. I never got that sense medically from the doctor or from the sort of larger team around. And then I think probably just some young, blind confidence and arrogance and dreamer in me. It just never felt like it was over, it just felt like I needed to take a little time and make sure that I got it right.

I mean, certainly after the first one, I think I walked myself into a giant dose of humility because I was like, “Oh, I’m going to come back so quick and I’m awesome because I’m 21 and I can do everything.” That backfired immediately, almost immediately. I think that kind of … Actually, I’m thankful for that because I feel like it set me up for the rest of my career in just understanding your body, understanding injuries, understanding when to push and when not to push, and ultimately your body’s going to tell you the answers. You can’t really force anything and you need to treat your body with that respect as well. I think oftentimes you just want to push, push, push, but that’s not really how your physical body works.

Debbie Millman:

I want to read a paragraph from your memoir. You talked a little bit about being able to, I don’t want to say magically, but there’s a sense that you have about where people are on the field. And in the World Cup in 2011 in Germany, you had one of the greatest plays of your career, and I’d like to read a paragraph from your memoir when you’re down two to one to Brazil, because I think it really does capture some of the way in which you approach playing. You cool with that?

Megan Rapinoe:

Mm-hmm. Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

“In the 122nd minute I was thinking, ‘We’re fucked.’ But I can hold two thoughts in my head at one time, and while thinking we’re fucked because we’re in the dying minutes of the game, the ball is way down on our end and the Brazilians are trying to run down the clock with their antics. I’m also seeing Ali Krieger dribbling up the sideline, passing the ball to the middle to Carli, and then Carli dribbling for what seems like an eternity. And I’m like, ‘Just fucking pass the ball to me,’ because I’m open and I’m coming up on the left and she dribbles across the field, finally plays it. I take one touch. I don’t even really look up, but I’m like, ‘Bitch, you’d better be there. Somebody has to be there.’ And it was literally a Hail Mary pass. This was our last chance. The ref should have already blown the whistle, and I just bombed it up the field where the ball found Abby, who headed it in.’Oh my God,’ she screamed. ‘Oh my God, best cross of your life.’ It was an epic sports moment, extremely dramatic. I imagine people back home watching, sitting in bars, jumping up to celebrate When the whistle blew. We were tied two-two and the game went to a penalty shootout, which we won five-three. That clip of my cross to Abby and her stupendous header into the goal went what we didn’t yet know to call viral.”

One of the great moments in sports history, brought to you by Design Matters. Is there a way to describe what that felt like? You kicked the ball not knowing where you were kicking it, but knowing full well, I think, where it was going. Talk about how that felt.

Megan Rapinoe:

Oh gosh. It was just the craziest moment. I think there was so much pressure and just so much going through my head. I mean, it’s like you have the larger sort of context that this would be I think the earliest exit of any team in US history, going out in the quarterfinals, so that’s obviously terrible. You never want to be that team. I’m like, oh my God, this is nuts. It’s already way into overtime. We’ve already gone into overtime. The game was crazy too. We had got a red card early in the game, so we were playing down. It’s gone into extra time. I think in the absence of some of the time-wasting from Brazil, the game would’ve already been called, but I think the ref was feeling like that wasn’t fair, which I’m not even sure refs are supposed to do, but she did. It felt like an eternity.

I think, oftentimes in those moments, I mean the extra time, as we’ve seen in this recent men’s World Cup, it’s very just arbitrary and we don’t really know, but they usually give momentum the advantage. So we were sort of coming up the field, everything felt like in eternity. I mean, Abby and I had such a great on field connection also. I mean, she was so dominant in the air and had such amazing timing and just was always there, and it felt like we just kind of had that connection. And I don’t even know, I’m just going to … I was far away too, so it was just like, I just have to boot this far and give someone a chance. Obviously it was Abby in there, and as the best goalscorer of all time in US history and just knowing how dominant she was, it was just like just get something in there. I mean, honestly, it was like I thought we were probably going to lose. You’re going to try obviously and do your best to have this crazy moment happen, this Hail Mary. But it’s just that, it’s just a Hail Mary, just a hope and a prayer.

And I can’t really explain what it felt like in the moment just seeing it go. I feel like I get emotional now, it was just so crazy. I still think to this day, it’s one of the greatest single sports moments in history, just all the drama, it had everything. It was just like a really difficult header from Abby as well. It wasn’t just like everyone fell over and she had this free header. And just pure elation, a little bit of relief as well. I think there’s a relief that happens because we always have so much pressure. The expectation is always to win and do all of the things, so there’s some relief, but it was just this perfect sports moment that you kind of dream about, a buzzer beater type situation. It was honestly just unbelievable. And I think the energy in the arena, in the stadium that day, was sort of interesting. I think again, the antics of Brazil kind of turned the tide against them, and so it just was this swell and that moment where you get to really pop your top off, and I feel like everyone just let the cannons go. It was just an incredible moment that honestly changed the course of women’s soccer history forever, I think globally.

Debbie Millman:

In the time after the post World Cup media frenzy and in the lead up to the London 2012 Olympics, you decided it was time to come out and you scheduled an interview with Out Magazine. What made you decide that that particular moment between the World Cup and the Olympics was the right time?

Megan Rapinoe:

It just started to feel awkward that I wasn’t out. That started to feel very uncomfortable for me because I was out in my normal life. And I think when I started on the national team, we just weren’t really that popular. If I was coming on the national team now, I’d probably already be out. The team’s so big, there’s just so much media around the team and social media and everything. We didn’t have any of that. So it’s kind of like you didn’t really live two different, two separate lives. There wasn’t really like a public and a private because … I mean, in a way there was, obviously we played a public sport, but it just wasn’t that popular. It wasn’t like it is now.

But it did start to feel … I mean, definitely after the World Cup. I remember on the plane ride home sitting with one of my best friends, Lori Lindsey, and then my agent Dan was close next to us on the plane. It was just kind of like, why am I not? This just seems weird. This is getting a little bit awkward. I think there was a couple times where maybe I used a more bland pronoun or something, or just sort of omitted, and I was like, this feels weird, this isn’t … And I was like very gay and visually I think I looked very gay, whatever that means, but I think at the time it was like, oh, this person is clearly gay. And it was also during that time, I think Prop 8 in California was like 2008 or 9, so that was happening, that was progressing through the courts, obviously up until 2015, which I think that was the Supreme Court decision. So it just was sort of in that time.

I don’t think I was really thinking explicitly like this at the time, but looking back and then just knowing myself now, I think I definitely do try to leverage the biggest moments for the things that I find to be very important or worth leveraging. I sort of take the opposite approach of most athletes of in the biggest moments, let’s try to keep everything calm and not bring more. But I sort of like to do the opposite, and I think there was an activist piece to it. I didn’t have the stereotypical struggle internally or with my family. I didn’t have that story. I thought that my story would be important. And I think also because I hadn’t personally struggled, it just felt more like a responsibility, like this wouldn’t be a huge undertaking for me. I thought it would be a really positive thing for myself and for other people. And it’s been extremely positive. I mean, I think still, to this day, people come up to me and reference that moment or just reference being out the way that I have as something really important to their life. So I think it just kind of made sense and it really kind of came down to this feels awkward to not be out. It feels like more work to not be out than just to be who I am authentically.

Debbie Millman:

One of the things that I was going to ask you was looking at the sort of history of your major accomplishments on the field and then your sort of major political statements, they seem very close in the timeline. Because you and the team won the gold at the Olympics in 2012, you went on to win the 2015 FIFA Women’s World Cup, and not content with resting on those achievements, in 2016, you knelt during the national anthem at an international match in solidarity with NFL player Colin Kaepernick. And you said that kneeling felt more like an imperative and a perfectly logical response to what felt like a state of emergency than a choice. And I’m wondering, in what way did that feel like a state of emergency to you at that moment in time?

Megan Rapinoe:

I just think where we were at as a country, those last maybe three, four years before 2016, the murder of Trayvon Martin, NBA players wearing hoodies, and you started to see a little bit more public political activism. Michael Brown in Ferguson 2014, obviously huge protests on the ground in Ferguson, but it was more of a national story in every publication, in all the newspapers. It was difficult to avoid. And obviously when you don’t avoid it and read what’s happening and read, not just about the specific murders of these young Black men, but just historically, you start to get into the data and police brutality. I mean, just the history of our country, it’s obviously undeniable.

Leading into 2016, the WNBA players had started to protest. The Minnesota Lynx were the first team, I believe there was a murder in Minnesota that they were protesting. They wore shirts, they had their security police walk out on them in the building. I think there was four or five really high profile murders that summer. And then sort of culminating in America’s biggest sport, which is football with one of their biggest players in the most important position, Colin Kaepernick, as a quarterback speaking out. And I mean, I just still remember so vividly his interview in front of his locker, which I feel like you could take and put in any time period at any time, I mean, it still resonates perfectly today. And I just remember watching that and just thinking, having the experience of coming out and asking people to, “I don’t need you to be gay. I just need you to understand that I’m gay and that I deserve my rights.” So the idea of allyship and understanding that I am asking people to do the same thing for me that I felt was necessary of me or that could help. And so it just seemed like a no-brainer.

It felt like something that was about to sweep through all of sports. It felt like one of those moments that massive change should happen and could happen. And it just felt, I think, like a personal moment of I just couldn’t really reconcile not doing anything. I mean, how could I understand what was happening and seeing what had happened, again, Trayvon Martin and Michael Brown and all these murders the three, four years prior, and then culminating in this moment where Colin actually gave us really for the first time a mechanism to protest against the systemic police brutality and white supremacy that really our country was founded on. So it gave us a real clear mechanism with the kneeling on something that you could do and then sort of talking points or a way that you could verbally support on top of that.

And I mean, I still believe to this day, if one white quarterback would’ve knelt with Colin, or even just one white high profile NFL player would’ve done that, I mean, I think we would have much more sweeping change, but no one did. I think Eric Reid was really one of the only other ones consistently, and there was a few other Black players, but very few, if any, white players that did that. And very few, if any, white players in almost all other sports that did that. And I think the different sports leagues are different. I think the NBA didn’t have a lot of kneeling, but it’s very clear what the NBA stands for and what those players are about and what they’ll protest for. And still to this day, it feels like a complete no-brainer to me. I would do it all over again in the exact same way that I did it.

Obviously, I didn’t know everything going in. I think I was very naive in a lot of ways, but I think very quickly I learned that the outrage was the game that was being played by white America and by white supremacy and by stakeholders, whether it be US soccer and the management at US soccer, or the government, or media, whether it’s the ESPNs or the Foxes of the world or CNNs or MSNBCs, is sort of … And I think the online outrage also. Very quick, I was like, oh, okay. That’s the whole game. We’re not talking about police brutality because we don’t want to talk about this massive problem in our country. We want to talk about whatever, military, or the flag, or lack of patriotism, whatever that means.

Debbie Millman:

Well, you were really punished shortly after you knelt. US Soccer released a statement saying it expected players to stand for the anthem. Your coach told you she wasn’t starting you in a game with Atlanta a few weeks later. She told you not to dress for two national team games guaranteeing you wouldn’t set foot on the field. And with the exception of a training camp you attended in November, you wouldn’t be invited to train with the team again that winter or the following spring. And then in early 2017, the US Soccer Federation formally banned players from kneeling during the anthem. How did you manage through this time not playing and being punished in such a public and vindictive way?

Megan Rapinoe:

Yeah, it was difficult. It was very difficult. I mean, I have an amazing group of people around me, from my family who didn’t always share my views, certainly, but always supported me. Obviously my partner, Sue, Dan, my agent, Jessica, the one that I work with. It took a team of people close to me. And then also just keeping myself educated. I mean, I think ultimately I knew that I was doing the right thing, so I never felt like, “Ah, fuck. I made a mistake and now I can’t really take it back.” I always felt like US Soccer looked horrible from the second they put out that statement. And they did, they looked absolutely terrible. And every move they made from then on, they looked terrible, and continued to look terrible until again, a hand was forced in 2020 with some apology that also looked pretty terrible. And people were like, really? Is this you?

But I think for me personally, Sue’s calm head kept me from firing off a number of irrational, sort of wild emails that I probably would’ve regretted. I never really got into the Twitter outrage. Again, I think I learned very early on, okay, that’s the point of all of this, is just to incite outrage and not really talk about what we’re talking about. And I think there was the sort of reality that my season was coming up for the NWSL, the league that we play in, so by March and April I would be back playing. And I always just felt like if I just get back to a level that I know that I can, then that will be a different conversation than what we’re in now.

Because also, simultaneously what was happening, I had come off an ACL injury the year before, and I made the Olympic roster and I played in the Olympics, but I really was not really my full self. And so that was part of the fake reason, really, or the reason given, was that your performance isn’t such the level that we need on the national team. I’m like, “Well, yeah. No shit, I just got back like two minutes ago.” And I need a place to play in order for my performance to be where you need it to be. I agree, my performance is not there. It’s just the whole mechanism for being able to play and get minutes was taken away, so while that was really frustrating, I think also I did know that the season was coming up. I was fully supported by my club team and fully supported by my coach at the time, Laura Harvey, and Bill Predmore and Teresa Predmore, the owner of our club here in Seattle at the time, I felt fully supported there. It was just like, I just need to get back on the field to do what I’m doing and to play my sport, because I feel like it’ll be undeniable then. And then what are you going to do? And as the saying goes, they fucked around and found out.

Debbie Millman:

By 2019 you helped the US win the 2019 FIFA Women’s World Cup again. But at the time we were approaching an election year, the news was dominated by stories of Black Americans dying in police custody. You stated publicly that if you won the World Cup, you would not visit the White House because of Trump’s policies and his racism. And Trump responded on Twitter, speaking of Twitter, and said, “I’m a big fan of the US team and women’s soccer, but Megan should first win before she speaks. Finish the job.” Were you surprised that he responded and called you out in the way that he did?

Megan Rapinoe:

I mean, yes, because you’re the President of the United States, you should be working on other stuff in the country and policy and what your actual job is, as opposed to responding to an athlete. But then again, no, because whether it was Hillary or AOC or the squad, or really just any woman who had the audacity to go against him, he sort of put his sights on. So in a way, no, he always tries to insert himself into whatever the cultural moment is at the time. I’m sure he felt left out of the World Cup because it was such an amazing moment, as it always is. And obviously, I mean, the man loves an American flag, so it’s like he didn’t want to miss out on this incredible moment of patriotism. So I was surprised, because I was like, this is just absurd.

I never want to not be shocked and surprised by that level of absurdity from that high of an office in the country. But at the same time, it was very much par for the course. I thought it was obviously extremely tacky and just unacceptable and very unpatriotic to sort of heap that pressure onto an individual player, but onto a team in a moment where they’re trying to do something really special and trying to achieve a dream that they’ve worked so hard for. He obviously didn’t know which team he was messing with because we thrive under pressure and sort of like the more pressure, the better. And I think just for me personally, I never felt unsafe. I never felt any of those things, from a physical or emotional online perspective at all.

So I think the team, and myself, was able to take it on as more like a ridiculous joke, like one more thing that this crazy thing is happening, and thanks for more eyeballs, because undoubtedly I think it raised the profile of the entire team and what we were doing, and our performances on the field sort of showed that. So it was absurd in all ways, but again, I feel like those big moments I really do enjoy. And all the antics around, I mean, we sued our federation two months before going to the World Cup anyways, so we were already locked in as a team and sort of prepared for anything. But yeah, that was a funny bus moment when everybody realized that that happened.

Debbie Millman:

After winning the world title you posted, “The group is strong, resilient. We have pink hair and purple hair, tattoos and dreadlocks. We have white girls, Black girls, and what’s in between. We have straight girls and gay girls.” And I kind of love that in this particular case, history is written by the victors.

Megan Rapinoe:

Very much so. Yeah, very much so.

Debbie Millman:

You and your teammates fought for years for pay parity with the men’s team, and this seemed like a no-brainer as the winning women’s team was getting paid less than the losing men’s team. And this year back in May, at long last, you’ve achieved that goal. I know that the case said for now there will be pay equity. Do you feel like that will be the way it is for the future?

Megan Rapinoe:

Yeah, I think that that’s the sort of baseline now. I think something we always want to keep in mind is equality or equity doesn’t always have to mean the exact same. And I think oftentimes with women’s sports, it’s like this trap we get into of comparing ourselves to the men, and if we could just do all the same things, then we’ll be all the same kinds of successful, which will never happen. I think as any marginalized person knows, that’s the sort of twice as good. You can do everything the same and they’re still not going to let you in. So I think always keeping in mind what’s different about our game? What different needs do we have that maybe the men’s team doesn’t have? It’s more so about the equal investment, the equal care really.

I think so much, I mean, maybe this is a soft topic, but the actual care that each individual in the federation and at the board level and at the executive level has for the team matters. I mean, for so long we could just tell they don’t care. They don’t really want to be here. Even when they would come to the final, it just felt begrudging, whereas if the men did well in a friendly, it was like the world was made of gold. And I think that’s really important. I think that sends a signal to the players and sends a signal to the staff under the management, and everybody else working in the federation where it’s branding and marketing. So I think the level investment, the level in care, the pots of money available to each team to be able to decide how they want that distributed, what works best, how we want to invest that as a staff or a coaching staff or a support staff, I think is really important.

So I think this agreement and settlement really, this lawsuit is really sort of the baseline of where we can go, and I think from here, I mean, the sky’s the limit. Obviously our league, we’re entering into our, I think 11th year in the NWSL. That’s a huge area that needs to grow as soccer continues to grow massively in the world and in our country, obviously leading into 2026, which will be a home men’s World Cup, which will undoubtedly raise the profile of soccer across the board, from youth soccer to the MLS, to the NWSL, the national teams alike. I think this is just a good starting point moving forward to think how can we grow both teams in the way that is uniquely situated to them and not just always saying, “Okay, well the men stayed at this Hilton, so we have to stay at that Hilton.” That might not work for us. Maybe they like to be more secluded or like to be more in the city, and vice versa. For us, I think it’s just more about understanding each team deserves the same opportunity and investment and care as each other, and then we can move on from there.

Debbie Millman:

I just have a few more questions for you today. You’re engaged to Sue Bird. Congratulations.

Megan Rapinoe:

Thank you.

Debbie Millman:

Sue, for our non-sports oriented listeners, is a professional athlete with the Women’s Basketball Association, winner of four Olympic gold medals of her own. You’ve recently co-founded a production company that centers stories of revolutionaries who move culture forward. You’ve named the company A Touch More, which is an extension of the name of your podcast. Is there a backstory to the name A Touch More?

Megan Rapinoe:

There is. It’s actually a pandemic creation. Early in the pandemic, we decided to do an Instagram Live, as most people did. But it was just kind of a fun, light show. It was obviously just the two of us with Instagram Live right in front of you. Sue was the producer on the show, so we had all kinds of games and we’d bring guests on and we had a blast. But there was one point during, this must have been a few months into the pandemic, where Sue had asked basically if she had gained weight or something through the pandemic. And it’s like, of course, we’re just sitting in the house. We’re not working out. We’re not doing anything. So I think I had said, “I mean, maybe like a touch more, but I don’t … I mean, no, not really.” And she was like, “All I heard was a touch more.” I was like, “Okay.”

So we called our show A Touch More, which is just a little nod to also us opening ourselves up in a way that we hadn’t. I mean, it was admittedly a little bit alcohol fueled during the early part of the pandemic, and a little looser than we are, at least than we have been in normal interviews. So it was kind of a touch more than you normally get from us. People ask us to recreate that all the time. I was like, “You guys, I can’t be drunk like three days a week doing a podcast. This is not going to work.” Maybe some sort of iteration, maybe it’ll be when we’re both into retirement. But other than that, I think we’ll probably leave a touch more just for the title.

Debbie Millman:

You debuted a four-part audio documentary for 30 For 30 titled Pink Card, which chronicles women in Iran and their fight for the right to watch soccer. What other kinds of stories are you hoping to tell?

Megan Rapinoe:

A lot of stories like that, of what it takes to even be successful as a woman just in general at times, but certainly as a female athlete. We always have to just move a little bit differently. That you’re really good and so then you can just go and play professionally is never the whole story. We saw that obviously with Brittney Griner being wrongfully detained overseas, and thank God being brought home, we see that with other players playing overseas, we see that with players starting their own businesses during their careers. So really interested in stories that just go beyond what sports are and sort of go into a little bit more about what we have to do to even be successful and what makes us successful. Certainly in marginalized communities, the same thing, doesn’t even have to specifically be in sports, but the myriad of different inspirational and creative and frankly genius ways that marginalized people have to move just in order to be successful. Getting more eyes on those stories and starting to broaden the cultural understanding, I guess, of what it means to move in the world when you don’t look a certain way.

Debbie Millman:

You are in your final years of playing professional soccer. You initially thought about retiring, but have stated you feel a renewed joy and passion for the game, which is wonderful news, with an eye toward the 2023 World Cup in Australia and New Zealand. What do you want your relationship to the sport to be moving forward?

Megan Rapinoe:

I do feel like my relationship has changed a lot. I think for so long it was just fighting, fighting, fighting, fighting, fighting, both on the field and off. Whether that was gay rights or pay equity or the fight with our federation or racial equality, so many things that this team fights for. Sometimes it’s hard to change that mindset. You’re used to having your gloves up all the time. So I think I’m approaching this next year just trying to enjoy it a lot more and, not really bask in the accomplishments, but really enjoy. The team is in such an amazing place. I mean, obviously the pay equity part was amazing. I mean, my paychecks will be a lot bigger, which I’ll just welcome that. That’s totally great.

But I think too, just trying to continue to pay it forward to the next generation and to use all the knowledge and experience that I have on and off the field to give to them in the most authentic way that I can. I don’t want to be like, “Hey kids, when I was this old …” That never really seems to work. But hopefully just through my experience and continuing to enjoy the game as much as possible, knowing that this will likely be last year, one of the last years, just trying to really enjoy every moment and realize what a special opportunity that I have to be playing for as long as I have, to see the game change in so many ways year after year after year, and undoubtedly this World Cup will be the best one yet, as all of them seem to be.

Debbie Millman:

I am just so grateful for everything that you’ve done for women’s sports. I think you very much picked up the baton from Billy Jean King and have really changed the world for so many people. Thank you for joining me today on Design Matters.

Megan Rapinoe:

Thank you so much for having me.

Debbie Millman:

If you want to know more about Megan Rapinoe, a good place to start is her memoir One Life. You can also see more about the business she now has with her fiance, Sue Bird, at ATouchMore.com. This is the 18th year we’ve been podcasting Design Matters and I’d like to thank you for listening, and remember, we can talk about making a difference, we can make a difference, or we can do both. I’m Debbie Millman and I look forward to talking with you again soon.

The post Design Matters: Megan Rapinoe appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Debbie Millman:

What do we want when we go to a restaurant? Good food. Yes. Good service? Sure, that too. But restaurateur Will Guidara says it’s more than that. He believes that what people really crave is human warmth served through the medium of delicious food. In other words, great hospitality. Will Guidara has been part of the New York City restaurant scene for what seems like forever, as general manager and then co-owner of the fabled Eleven Madison Park, and co-owner of the trendy Nomad restaurants. He is also the author of five books, the latest of which is a memoir of sorts, titled Unreasonable Hospitality: The Remarkable Power of Giving People More Than They Expect. He joins me today to talk about his life, his book, and his remarkable career. Will Guidara, welcome to Design Matters.

Will Guidara:

Thank you so much. I’m really, really honored to be here with you and have been very much looking forward to the conversation.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, me too. Well, I understand that you’re quite the drummer. You started playing in junior high school and performed in punk bands and funk bands, and ska bands. And is it true that by the time you were a senior in college you were playing in a band called the Bill-Guidara Quartet?

Will Guidara:

Yes, although important to note that the Bill-Guidara Quartet was a 16-piece funk band.

Debbie Millman:

That was my next question. How could a quartet also have 16 pieces in it?

Will Guidara:

It actually did start as a quartet. But I think actually the journey with that band is not dissimilar to how I’ve approached my career since then. Which is, I went into the restaurant business because I love being a part of a team. And the more amazing friends who were musicians that I met over the course of my time at college, the band just kept growing and growing, because I mean, music for me is such a way to bring people together, not just the people that are listening to the music, but the people that are playing it as well. And so that band, the people in it, were my closest friends in college. And every time we met a new friend, they had to learn an instrument and get good enough at it that they were able to join the band.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, that’s wonderful. Did you ever think about pursuing music after college professionally?

Will Guidara:

Yeah. For me, it’s always been music and restaurants since I was a little kid. I’ve been playing the drums since before I can remember and I’ve always wanted to be in the restaurant business. And so it was always going to be one of those two, but eventually I recognized that I could go into the restaurant business and continue being a musician, but not vice versa.

Debbie Millman:

You were born in Sleepy Hollow, New York. Your mom was a flight attendant for American Airlines, and your dad was the president of a large restaurant organization. So I guess it’s safe to say that hospitality is in your blood.

Will Guidara:

It’s in my blood for a bunch of reasons. I think from a career perspective, and I draw the distinction, right? Because when people think about hospitality as a career, they think about what’s classically known as the hospitality industry, which are restaurants and hotels. And my entire thesis is that, well A, I don’t care what you do for a living, you can choose to be in the hospitality industry. It’s also just a way of not just working, but a way of living. Whichever lens you decide to look at it through, I got both of those things from my parents. I grew up going to work with my dad because well, anyone who has ever had a parent that’s worked restaurant hours knows that if you want to spend meaningful time with them, you have to go to work with them. Then watching him and my mother after some adversity early on in my life, I got to experience firsthand the feeling of giving and receiving hospitality and got addicted to it because of that experience.

Debbie Millman:

At one point, your dad was the regional vice president for Ground Round, is that correct?

Will Guidara:

Yes. There he was.

Debbie Millman:

And I want to explain to our listeners in case they might not be aware, Ground Round was a old school casual dining chain, known for passing out whole peanuts and encouraging the patrons to throw the shells on the ground. And Will, I’m only bringing this up not because I think it’s an important part of your history, but because I thought you might want to know that when I was a teenager living on Long Island, me and my band, used to perform there.

Will Guidara:

Oh, okay. Hold on, hold on.

Debbie Millman:

I know.

Will Guidara:

First of all, that’s amazing. Second of all, what did you play? And third of all, what was the name of the band?

Debbie Millman:

I’m so embarrassed. The name of the band was Nova, and it was me and two of my girlfriends. And we played a lot of Fleetwood Mac and a lot of Neil Young. Basically, anything that we could get away with that had as few chords as possible.

Will Guidara:

Oh wait, which instrument did you play?

Debbie Millman:

I was the singer, and Suzanne played the guitar and the piano, and Kathy played the piano.

Will Guidara:

Oh, I love that. The thing I don’t say in the book is that my band when I was that age was called My Dog Mary. I feel like you could, honestly, you could blackmail people just by threatening to release their band names when they were a teenager.

Debbie Millman:

Absolutely. Or what they were recording, in my case.

Will Guidara:

I will say about Ground Round, I found that some of the greatest inspiration comes from the most unlikely places, and there was a course I did years later at Eleven Madison Park where I was at my dad’s house for Christmas and we were all unwrapping presents. And I was struck by how much people like unwrapping presents, and I was like, “Why can’t we bring that into the restaurant?” And so going forward from that point between Thanksgiving and Christmas every year, the first course was on the table when you walked in, so when you walked into the restaurant, every table was filled with wrapped presents. And in all of those presents was your first course, which was a very elaborate caviar course. But the thing wasn’t just that people like unwrapping presence and how cool would it be to begin an experience by tapping into one of the most childlike wonder moments imaginable, but also encouraging people to throw the wrapping paper on the floor to effectively take an environment that could be considered by so many to be so precious, and eliminate that emotion from the beginning of the meal.

And I thought about Ground Round back in the day when I was innovating that because, I mean, Ground Round was a chain of restaurants that was known because you could throw the peanut shells in the ground. That was its thing. And it made people feel like they were in an extension of their home. And I always loved it because I always imagined the first meeting where someone brought up that idea ,how cool of a company culture it must have been that it wasn’t shot down right away. Because that’s a ridiculous idea that in most organizations would be like, “Stop. That’s ridiculous. Let’s move on to the next idea.”

Debbie Millman:

Exactly.

Will Guidara:

If someone was like, “Hold on, let’s unpack that a little bit.” And I think it’s pretty inspiring because I think so many good ideas have probably never seen the light of day because they were too quickly dismissed.

Debbie Millman:

Absolutely. I am on the board of a nonprofit and we’re thinking about having a gala, a fundraising gala in 2023, and somebody came up with the idea of wrapping bento boxes, and I know this has been done before, it’s not original, but everybody actually really loved the idea rather than wrap them in paper. I think now people are wrapping them in scarves or fabric that then people can take with them as a little gift, a remembrance of the evening.

Will Guidara:

I love that.

Debbie Millman:

And I like that idea too. For your 12th birthday, your dad took you to the Four Seasons for dinner, and at the time, you had no idea that the Four Seasons was the first truly American fine dining restaurant, and you’ve said that it was the fanciest and most beautiful place you’d ever been in your entire life. What made that experience, aside from the fanciness, what made it so special?

Will Guidara:

There’s the quote that’s often attributed to Maya Angelou, although when I was writing the book, I found out it might not have actually come from her. “People will forget what you say, they’ll forget what you do. They’ll never forget how you made them feel.” And I think it’s the most true statement about hospitality.

In that quote, you recognize the distinction between the product, how you serve it, and how you make people feel. Right. There are three completely different things. For whatever reason, I had become obsessed with the idea of going to the Four Seasons for dinner, and somehow I convinced my dad to take me there. And I don’t remember much about the meal. I remember a few details. I remember that it was the first time that I’d been to a restaurant so fancy that when I dropped my napkins, someone brought me a fresh one and called me sir when they handed it to me. I remember a couple other details them carving a duck tableside. But really all that I remember was that for those few hours that I was there, everything else in the world ceased to exist, and all that was left was my dad and me sitting across from one another at that table.

Remember my dad was my hero growing up, and so time spent with him was always precious to me, but being in a place where the conditions were so intentionally and beautifully created that I felt closer to him at the end of that meal than I did when we walked in. The way I’ve articulated it to my teams since then in trying to explain to them why our work is so important was inspired by that night. And it’s that in restaurants, we have this beautiful opportunity or perhaps even responsibility, to create these magical worlds in a world that needs more magic. By the time I left that restaurant that night, it was very, very clear to me that I wanted to one day own my own restaurant, and it’s the only thing I’ve ever done since.

Debbie Millman:

You stated that while the question of what you wanted to do, which your dad asked you, I think that you said that you knew by the time you left the restaurant you knew exactly what you wanted to do with your life. And shortly thereafter, your dad asked you what you wanted to do. You’ve said that while the question might have seemed like a crazy thing to ask someone so young, your dad was incredibly intentional with his parenting, as with everything in his life. So I have two questions about this. First, what did intentionality mean to him? And then second, how did that intentionality manifest as you were growing up?

Will Guidara:

Well, so when I was four, my mom was diagnosed with brain cancer. And although she survived the cancer, the radiation treatment she received to help with the removal of the tumor wasn’t very refined. And over the years that followed, deteriorated her physical state to the point where she was a quadriplegic. My dad was working 12, 14 hours a day. He’d have to wake up in the morning, get her out of bed, get her showered, put her in the wheelchair, get her ready, make sure I was awake and ready to go to school. Then he’d go off, do the restaurant day, come back, do it all in reverse. And he still managed to be an unbelievable father to me.

And also, this was back in the day when parental roles were more divided. There was like the mom and there was the dad, and in many ways he was also a great mother to me. And he only was able to do that because of how intentional he was and how he spent every minute of his day. For him, intentionality wasn’t a choice, it was a necessity. If he was going to do all of those things well, he needed to understand what he was trying to accomplish out of every hour of his day and make sure that his moves, his words and his thinking, were surgically directed at accomplishing that thing. And that thing didn’t necessarily always need to be like checking something off the list. That thing could just be making sure that his son felt loved by him. You think about that. It’s not different from the idea of training at high altitude. If I could take the lessons that he needed to learn in order to get through a season that would’ve been crushing to many, and apply them to a life where I didn’t have a wife who is a quadriplegic, and think about how much more and how much good I could do.

Debbie Millman:

How did you manage through your mother’s illness?

Will Guidara:

For me, it happened so early in my life that that was my normal. It wasn’t as if one day we were out having all this fun and doing all this stuff, and then suddenly that was taken away. That was the world that I grew up in. And my dad never let me see him feeling bad for himself. Honestly, nor did my mom. And so it never even occurred to me to feel bad for myself. The contrary, I mean, listen, if I could go back in time and change that, obviously I would. I would’ve loved to have had a healthy mom and for her to still be with us today, she’d passed away right after I graduated from college.

But I mean that experience made me who I am watching the profound way in which he served her inspired me to want to serve others, and also, I was forced by necessity to also serve her. I would feed her dinner most nights when my dad was still at work. And that showed me how good it felt to serve. I think the other thing that I learned from her is she couldn’t talk or walk, and yet I’ve never felt more loved by anyone in my life than I did by her. Hospitality, it’s not hard. It just requires caring enough to try a little bit harder. And if I could feel that much love from someone who couldn’t talk or walk, imagine how much love you can show to someone when you can.

Debbie Millman:

Absolutely. Absolutely. The way that you describe her smiling at you in your book is just stunning, really breathtaking.

You got your first real job at 14 working at the Baskin Robbins in Terrytown, and I understand that you left many ruined cakes in your wake. You’ve stated it’s harder to pipe happy birthday onto an ice cream cake than you think. So I only have one question about this, and is it true about what people say about working in an ice cream shop that you eventually end up hating ice cream?

Will Guidara:

Oh yeah. I mean, I’m from just outside of New York and I worked there all year long, which meant that for many months, you’re just sitting in an ice cream shop that was empty. Not that many people are buying ice cream in November. And so yeah, you end up eating a lot of ice cream, which set me up for success in a very profound way going into my marriage.

Debbie Millman:

I was going to say there seems to be a little bit of a common denominated there. In high school, you also worked as a dishwasher and a host at the Ruth’s Kris Steak House, and over a summer vacation, as a busboy at Wolfgang Puck’s Hollywood restaurant Spago, and there you had a really formative event occur. It not only has stayed with you ever since, but it’s also influenced how you manage and treat people who work for you. And I was wondering if you can share what happened in that formative experience.

Will Guidara:

For sure. And I think this story is indicative of how much power people have even when they don’t recognize. Especially if you’re in a leadership position. That’s something that is perhaps extraordinarily inconsequential moment in your day, can be one that lives with the other person for the balance of their life.

Debbie Millman:

Yes. Yes.

Will Guidara:

And shows you the extent to which you need to wield your power carefully.

Debbie Millman:

Absolutely. It’s a great story for so many reasons.

Will Guidara:

I was a busboy at Spago in Beverly Hills. And I cared so much about that job. And I, mean I wanted to be in the restaurant business. I was a kid. I was working at one of the great restaurants in America. I was working so hard to be great at that job. And then one day I was resetting tables and there was the credenza right outside the kitchen where we stored all of the stuff you need to reset a table. And I opened the cabinet door and whoever had stacked the bread and butter plates in that cabinet last had done so in a way that they were tilting over, leaning on the door. So the moment I opened the door, they all just came falling out and just shattered all over the floor. And I was mortified.

I mean, when someone cares about their job and something like that happens, they’ve already tortured themselves as much as they need to be tortured. But the chef came running out of that kitchen and just screamed at me. In front of all my colleagues, in front of all the guests, and it was those moments where you’re just overwhelmed with shame. And the byproduct of shame that normally quickly follow is anger. From the day that I went to the Four Seasons for dinner, I’d always wanted to be in restaurants, but I’d wanted to be in that restaurant, fine dining. But over the time between those two events, the dinner and the plates, the world had changed around me in the restaurant business. Restaurants had gone from places where you went to see and be seen, to these places where you went to pray at the altar of the chef, and that experience solidified for me the reality that was happening. Which was the people in the kitchen didn’t think that the work being done by the people in the dining room mattered as much as their work did. And honestly, it really turned me off from fine dining. And I loved restaurants still, but in that moment I said, “I don’t want to be in fine dining anymore.”

Debbie Millman:

I was thinking about that. And I’ve been simultaneously watching The Bear, and seeing how in the fine dining establishment that the chef had originally come from, everybody was so cruel to each other. Well, not everybody, the chef was so cruel to the people that worked for him. And then that behavior inspires the person who’s being treated poorly when they get into a position of power, treating others poorly. And that’s ancestral trauma right there. And I wonder if there’s an opportunity for breaking those patterns now in this different way that people can treat each other, certainly. In the environments that you’ve inspired. But I’m wondering if that’s the exception more than the case.

Will Guidara:

Well, it’s interesting. One of the things my dad always encouraged me to do my entire life was to keep a journal. Specifically as I was coming up through the ranks of the industry. His thing was always that perspective has an expiration date, and every time you get promoted from one position to the next, you can maintain the perspective of the people that you are now managing only for so long before you lose that perspective. And once you lose it, you’ve lost it forever. But if you can maintain the perspective of the experiences that got you to where you are, you can be a much more empathetic leader. I think that as we go through our careers, you learn from the great leaders and the bad leaders. You learn the things you want to copy and the things you want to try never to copy. I think the issue why people end up repeating the mistakes of the people that they worked for in the past, even though they hated when those people did that stuff, is they weren’t able to hold onto their perspective.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah. It becomes, I think, an assertion of power. And somehow reclaiming that power. But in fact, it does the opposite.

Will Guidara:

As opposed to what a beautiful opportunity it is to learn the thing you don’t want to do. And because if, by the way, we could all go through our lives, and every time someone did something that we want to do, we start doing that and every time someone did something that we didn’t want to do, we never do that again. I mean, we’d all be superheroes.

Debbie Millman:

Right? Oh, God.

Will Guidara:

So the goal is just to get as close to that as you possibly can, and not… By the way, just it comes down to being as intentional as possible.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah. That word again. You attended Cornell University’s School of Hotel Administration. And in your last semester, you took a course called Guest Chefs, which turned out to be your favorite class. And I believe your professor, Giuseppe Pezzotti taught you how to peel a grape with a fork and a knife. And I was wondering why exactly would anyone need to know how to do that?

Will Guidara:

So okay, the answer is no one needs to know how to do that.

Debbie Millman:

For tarts maybe?

Will Guidara:

But I’ll tell you why he taught us it. I’ve built a career honestly, on bringing a beginner’s mindset to the highest echelons of fine dining. And challenging or asking the question of why things are done a certain way, and if the answer is because that’s how they’ve always been done, not doing them that way anymore. My career is built on this idea that the food, the service, and the design in a restaurant are simply ingredients in the recipe of human connection. And if anything that you’re doing isn’t bringing you closer to that than it’s not something worth doing.

But, I’ve always tried to be really mindful as I work to move my little part of the industry forward, that I don’t do so without being very respectful of where it’s come from. Giuseppe taught us how to do those things because when you look back at old school, classic fine dining, tableside service was a big part of it. And there were all these little things they did to wow people, just to show technical proficiency. And when he showed me how to do that, it not only showed me how the world had been, such that we could figure out how to modernize it together, but it also inspired me that in a restaurant, it’s not just the people cooking the food that can show unbelievable technical proficiency, but that the people serving it can as well if they challenge themselves too.

Debbie Millman:

Guest Chefs also provided you with the experience of running a real restaurant. And every semester, a guest chef would come to do a dinner staffed entirely by the students, and one group of students would serve as the chef’s management team. Another group would work as the kitchen staff, and while the third group ran the dining room and you were the marketing director. And the chef that was brought to Cornell that year was rather legendary. Who came that year to guest chef with you?

Will Guidara:

That was Daniel Boulud, one of the great chefs in the world. And, yeah, if you’re the marketing director and one of the greatest chefs in the world is coming to do a dinner, it does not require that much marketing.

Debbie Millman:

I was going to say, what did you have to actually do?

Will Guidara:

I mean, I always try to, in moments like that, to use the fact that it’s going to be successful no matter what as an opportunity not to be complacent, but rather to just try to do something new. I had now spent enough time in restaurants and across America working in internships to have learned about the chef’s table, the table that sits in the kitchen, and we had an ugly, ugly commercial kitchen at the hotel school. But I got a red velvet rope and built a table in there and auctioned it off online, and raised thousands of dollars and donated the money to Taste of the Nation, which was happening locally at the time, the Share Strength fundraising event. And I always say adversity can invite creativity, but I think so can success if you don’t allow it to make you complacent.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah. I understand that you had a rather rocking evening. And after a night of debauchery, Daniel Boulud joined you and your fellow classmates in your kitchen, in your home, where he proceeded to drink Milwaukee’s best from a red solo cup, while whipping up scrambled eggs with truffles. And of course, I have to ask, were they the best eggs you’ve ever had?

Will Guidara:

Well, in the spirit of the night we were having, I don’t quite remember, but I have to imagine that they were.

Debbie Millman:

Now you hint that one of the most celebrated chefs in the world did a keg stand on your pool table. And just want to confirm or have you deny that as a fact?

Will Guidara:

You know what? On this podcast, I can confirm that that happened.

Debbie Millman:

Okay then, we’ve got a scoop. Talk a little bit about what it was like for you to have an interaction with someone like that. Did you feel that it was something that was destiny? Did you feel that it was something that would influence how you were going to move through your own career?

Will Guidara:

I don’t know. I will say to the point of how the smallest action by someone in a leadership role can have impacts beyond which they could ever possibly understand. If the one at before had the negative impact, this one had the positive impact. How generous Daniel Boulud was to just this random college kid, and how much he invested in me while we were together made me want to talk about, you learn the things you want to do and the things you don’t want to do. That inspired me to always want to make sure that I was acting that way. If I ever happen to achieve as much success, that I would always pay it forward to the people that I met along the way.

Debbie Millman:

You had another interaction with him that was very moving after your mom passed away. Can you share what happened when you saw him again?

Will Guidara:

Yeah, so at the end of that class he said, “Hey, when you’re in New York, come and see me at Restaurant Daniel, which was his, still is his flagship. My mom passed away the day after I graduated college .and I went to Spain not too long thereafter to do this externship. And my dad drove me to New York because that’s where I was flying from. And it was one of the saddest seasons of our lives for obvious reasons. And in an effort to try to find something to cheer us up, I reached out to Daniel and said, “Hey, I’m actually going to be in New York with my dad on this day. Is there any way I can come to the restaurant?” And he responded right away, said, “Yes, you invited me into your home. I’d love to have you in mine.” My dad and I went.

We walked in the front door, they greeted us, they walked us through the bar, through the dining room, I was wondering where our table was, into the kitchen up, the set of stairs into this little private dining room called the Sky Box, which has a big window that overlooks the entire kitchen, this kitchen that was one of the greatest in the world. They proceed to serve us 16 or so courses with Daniel, personally, through an intercom introducing, every course to us. And at the end of the meal, there was no check. In one of the hardest seasons of my life, Daniel gave us four of the best hours of our lives.

When I talk about that idea of creating magical worlds in a world that needs more magic, it’s because you can help people celebrate some of the best moments of their lives, or it’s because you can inspire people to be better versions of themselves through your attention to detail, or it’s because we can make the world a nicer place by being really nice to everyone walks through the doors. But that night it also showed me that through hospitality, you can create these magical worlds simply by virtue of giving people the grace, if only for a few hours, to forget about their most difficult moments.

Debbie Millman:

You’ve said that that night you learned how noble working in service can be. It’s one of my favorite lines in the book. A nobility in service.

Will Guidara:

Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

By the time you graduated from Cornell, there was no question in your mind. You very firmly declare in your book that you wanted to work for Danny Meyer, the founder of Union Square Hospitality Group, which owned Eleven Madisons Park, still owns Gramercy Tavern, Marta, Blue Smoke, the Modern Union Square Cafe, and so many more. Why Danny Meyer specifically?

Will Guidara:

He was the only person in America that was bringing the same amount of creativity and intention to what was happening in the dining room as all the other great restaurants in America were to what was happening in the kitchen. It’s hard to become great at something if you don’t have a hero to look up to. And there were plenty of celebrity chefs out there. There was no celebrity restaurateur except for Danny. He was the guy. And so when someone is the guy, well, that’s the person you’ll work for.

Debbie Millman:

While you tried to get a job there, I believe you worked as a management intern and then waited tables at Tribeca Grill. How did you eventually get an interview with Union Square Hospitality Group?

Will Guidara:

Well, one of Danny’s partners actually came to teach one of our classes at Cornell. And me being a young motivated kid at the time, made sure I got his business card before he left, and so I had a connection right to the top.

Debbie Millman:

Your interview eventually took place at Eleven Madison Park, though you ended up getting a manager position at Tabla another of Union Square Hospitality groups restaurants, and God, that was an incredible restaurant.

Will Guidara:

By the way, the graphic design at Tabla. I think their logo was, I loved that logo. I loved that restaurant Floyd Cardoz, the chef who’s who passed away during COVID became like family to me over the years, and I believed to this day that his cooking was some of the best ever.

Debbie Millman:

His raita was the best I’ve ever had, and it ruined me for all raita since. There was nothing like it. You’ve said that Danny Meyer’s management style made it cool to care. In what way did it become cool?

Will Guidara:

One of the things I say in the book is cult is short for culture. That so many people when they call one company a cult, okay, some people are just straight up cultish and that’s not okay. But when they call a company a cult, it’s just because that company has a culture and their company doesn’t have one, and so it feels like it must be a cult, right?

What Danny did expertly well was come up with shared language to articulate the ideals that we all wanted to aspire to embody. He came up with these isms, things that we could all rally around, things that made it easier to suggest and celebrate and reinforce or affirm. And in doing so, he created an environment where when you were in it, you just wanted to thrive, not in some cutthroat big bank way, but thrive in an effort to care for other people. I’ve always believed that the successful evolution of a culture only fully starts to happen when the people on the team, when they’re hanging out during lunch break or we call it family meal, people start talking about an amazing service experience they’ve received or delivered, or a meal they’ve had, or something like that, as opposed to how drunk they got at the bar the night before. Where people stop pretending to care less in order to be cool, but rather the environment celebrates the people that care more.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah. When Danny Meyer announced that he was opening a restaurant and jazz club in the Flatiron called Blue Smoke, he asked you to be the assistant general manager. And while you were thrilled, when you shared the news with your dad, while he did indeed recognize you were getting an incredible education in restaurant smarts, he also wanted you to learn how to be corporate smart. Did that surprise you? He really wasn’t as excited about that opportunity as you were.

Will Guidara:

Not only was he not excited, he made me quit. Now, my dad, you talk about intention. One of the in many ways that I’ve benefited from his intention was that he was surgical in helping me solidify the foundation of my career.

He insisted I work in every position all the way up. And then also insisted that I not just work within one company as I tried to learn all the lessons required to one day start my own, he wanted me to learn from different companies that approach things in different ways. And he talked about the fact that there were two types of companies, and by the way, the word I use is restaurant, but I believe this idea applies to any company that has a corporate office and unit level stores.

That they’re corporate smart companies, where the highest paid people work in the corporate office. Those are the companies that have more systems, more controls, they’re normally more profitable businesses because of that. And there are, the restaurant smart company is where the highest paid people work at the unit level. There’s less systems, less controls, but there’s more autonomy on the front line, and the experience at those places is normally better because of that autonomy and the sense of ownership and empowerment that the people who work there feel. He wanted me to work at a restaurant smart company and a corporate smart company, in hopes that one day I could take the best from each in starting my own.

Debbie Millman:

You turned Danny Meyer down. Was that hard?

Will Guidara:

Yeah. I mean, it was hard mostly because I didn’t want to turn him down, but I trust my dad enough to know that that was in a season where I respected, loved, and trusted my dad enough to know that if he was giving me advice after decades of doing the thing that I was trying to do, that it was advice I should listen to. And even if I didn’t appreciate the short-term impacts of that advice, that one day, I’d appreciate the long-term impacts of it.

Debbie Millman:

You ended up getting a job with Restaurant Associates. And I believe you had two jobs from 6:00 AM to noon, you learned how to inventory a walk-in refrigerator, how to calculate cost of goods sold, how to order food and supplies. And then after lunch, you would take off your whites, put on a blazer and a tie, and then start in with the numbers in the accounting department upstairs. And you’ve stated that it was impossible to overestimate how important it was that you were doing both jobs simultaneously. Why? How was that helpful to you?

Will Guidara:

Anyone trying to grow in any business should make sure that they spend a meaningful enough amount of time learning about the business side of the business. There’s a lot of people in my industry specifically who talk about how spending time with the numbers is a distraction from their ability to be creative in the experience they’re trying to offer. Which is something I fundamentally disagree with. I think anyone who is really paying attention recognizes that the more resources you have to invest in being creative, the more creative you can be, right? If you have a more successful business, and you have more money to invest in building the best experience you can, more likely than not, the experience is going to be better than someone that doesn’t, right? But you need to manage the business effectively in order to earn the right to invest in the experience you’re trying to create.

Doing both of those jobs simultaneously, the accounting and the purchasing, what was great about it was, okay, in the accounting office, I was learning the business side. And the lessons I learned then would pay off in extraordinary ways later in my career. But doing that alongside the purchasing made the things on those spreadsheets, not just a hypothetical, but something that I was seeing and touching and learning about and understanding on a daily basis. It was a unique experience, not one that everyone gets to have, but one that I would strongly recommend to those who can find it.

Debbie Millman:

When you left Tabla to go to Restaurant Associates, you thought you wanted to be Danny Meyer when you grew up, but that changed after you began working at Restaurant Associates. Was there a moment in time where you thought you wanted to be a chef and then changed your mind in terms of being a general manager? Or was being a chef something that you weren’t as interested in from the beginning?

Will Guidara:

Yeah. I never wanted to be a chef. I’m an extrovert. I like to be in the room. I like to be the person that throws the party. I have an amazing amount of respect and love for the chefs in my life, and I have plenty of them. Not least important, my wife is a chef, but it’s always been the dining room for me. I mean, listen, I just believe that the memories created around the table are some of the most profound ones that we all have in our lives, and being the person helping to create those for other people is always the thing that’s gotten me out of bed in the morning.

Debbie Millman:

In 2004, you quite serendipitously ran into Danny Meyer in Union Square and found out that he was opening a high profile fine dining restaurant at the ground floor of the Museum of Modern Art called The Modern, which would look out onto MoMA’s legendary Sculpture Garden. Then the chef was Gabriel Kreuther, who was voted one of Food & Wine’s Best New Chefs in 2003. And Danny ultimately offered you the exact job that you had really been fantasizing about, general manager for the casual food service operations in the museum. And this would give you the chance to find out if you could bring corporate smart to the most restaurant smart company in the world. How did you end up doing?

Will Guidara:

I mean, I did well. I loved MoMA. And yeah, I mean, it was an opportunity. The casual operations, the cafes, the cafeterias. It was more of a business than his other restaurants were. His other restaurants where these artistic enterprises, in addition to being businesses. This was a business that wanted to be also excellent. And I figured that was the perfect opportunity to test whether it was possible to be corporate smart and restaurant smart.

And one of the through lines of the book is this thing that I’ve always struggled with, but always pursued, which is why I’ve over time, become more successful at it. And it’s the balance between, you can say it a bunch of different ways, control and creativity, corporate smart and restaurants smart, rules and trust, all that stuff. And there was where I started to really navigate through that for the first time. How do you create an environment where the chef feels empowered and creative and proud, but the food cost doesn’t mind? How do you create an environment where the team gets to bring so much of themselves to the experience, but there’s still communicating the things we need them to communicate? And every time we figured it out, in a bunch of different fun ways.

Debbie Millman:

Well, tell us about the spoons you ordered for the gelato cart at MoMA.

Will Guidara:

So the gelato cart was something I created there, which was me just so inspired by the Sculpture Garden that I wanted to create a little piece to add to it, and I wanted it to be very simple and very pure and very elemental. And so we just did gelato and we got this company called il laboratorio del gelato, some of the best gelato in America, and we partnered with him. And he provided this beautiful cart and we arranged to get the gelato at a steep discounts that he could be the official gelato of MoMA and all of this, and was approaching it with a ton of discipline to make sure it was a very profitable operation. But then, he showed me the spoon, the plastic spoon that he wanted to serve, to give people to eat the gelato, and it was perfect. The design was just perfect. And it was absurdly expensive for a disposable thing that you were just giving away.

But sometimes, you just realize that an experience demands this one detail. And I used it. I remember my boss when she first saw that spoon, she looked at me, she’s like, “How much did this cost?” And I was like, “I’ll tell you later.” And she’s like, “All right.” But that whole experience taught me something, a lesson that would ultimately help me manage all of my companies from that point forward. I call it the rule of 95-5.

Which is, that if you manage your money like a maniac 95% of the time, and when I say a maniac, I mean no, penny goes unaccounted for. Every little detail matters. Understanding that raindrops create oceans, and every one of those little decisions can have a profound impact in your profitability. Then 5% of the time you get to spend it “foolishly.” And I say “foolishly,” because that’s 5% is actually not foolish at all. It’s with great intention. And even if the ROI, the return on investment of that 5% is hard to measure, it doesn’t mean that its impact isn’t significant. I believe that that little spoon, as small a detail as it, was and as much as it may have cost, the operation was enough to say, this is a different experience than the ones you’ve had. And it’s one worthy of respect and celebration. And that 5% and how I spent it came to be responsible for most of my success later in my career. But it started there.

Debbie Millman:

And you’ve used that 95-5 rule wherever you’ve worked. This was one of my favorite stories from the book, and one that I really appreciate because I love those small details. One of the things that really, really annoys me and my wife will laugh out loud when she hears me talking about this when she listens to the podcast is, when you go into a Pinkberry or any of the places that soft serve and don’t necessarily think about all those things, how sometimes you get a plastic spoon that is rough on your mouth.

Will Guidara:

Yes.

Debbie Millman:

And how that changes everything.

Will Guidara:

And that’s the definition honestly, of a company or a leader of a company that’s not taking enough time to experience their own product. Or when they’re tasting, they’re soft serve, they’re doing so in the office with a normal spoon, as opposed to experiencing it in the way that the people they’re serving are experiencing it. Because those things, when you experience it’s so obvious to you. I think about that sometimes when I fly. When you fly coach, it’s clear that the executives of the airline never fly coach.

Debbie Millman:

Correct. They probably don’t fly business either.

Will Guidara:

There was this book by Alan Mulally, an American icon, or about Alan Mulally, who is the former CEO of Ford, and when he got to Ford, Ford owned Range Rover and Jaguar. And all of the executives were driving Range Rovers and Jaguars, as opposed to driving a Ford, which was the heart of the company. And he made them all stop and start driving Fords because he’s like, “How can we sell people a car that we were not willing to drive ourselves?”

Debbie Millman:

Your experience at MoMA showed you that it was possible to be corporate smart and restaurant smart at the same time. And your team was empowered, the guests were happy, you were running a lean, mean, profitable business. And then Danny asked to meet with you again. What did he want this time?

Will Guidara:

This time he wanted me to be the general manager at Eleven Madison Park.

Debbie Millman:

And once again, you weren’t sure.

Will Guidara:

Well, I wanted nothing to do with fine dining, and now he was asking me to be at the most fine dining restaurant in the company.

Debbie Millman:

And for our listeners unfamiliar with Eleven Madison Park. The restaurant opened in 1998 to a two-star review from the New York Times, and after receiving another middling two-star review in 2006, Danny Meyers set out to reconcile what had long bothered him about the restaurant. And asked Richard Kerene to travel around the country to find a chef who would make food elevated enough to match the rooms outrageously grand and over the top drama. And Robert found Daniel Humm. He was only 29 at the time, but had started cooking professionally in some of the finest Swiss hotels and restaurants at 14 years old, and earned his first Michelin star at the age of 24. But you felt that no matter how amazing any chef was, you didn’t want to work for one, and you insisted that it’d be an equal partnership, that your work in the dining room be as respected as the work in the kitchen. What did Danny think of that at the time?

Will Guidara:

Well, Danny was all for that. It was a matter of whether the chef was as receptive to the idea that this was not going to run the same way fine dining restaurants ordinarily ran. Well, he was receptive to that. And I think that partnership is what ultimately led to the success of the restaurant. I mean, this exists in so many industries, whether producer, director, editor, publisher, or kitchen and dining room, where there’s inherent tension between the people serving and those creating. The moment you establish it as a true even partnership and embrace all the tension that arrives, such that there’s no trump card that can be played, no one has authority over the other, you need to actually navigate through the most challenging decisions knowing that if you can’t agree, nothing happens. I think it opens up a world of possibilities that so many people haven’t had the luxury of experiencing.

Debbie Millman:

Before you took the job, you once again consulted with your father who gave you this advice, “Run toward what you want, as opposed to away from what you don’t want.”

Will Guidara:

Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

I love that. First of all, I think your father should write a book, or you should write a book called Advice My Father Gave Me.

Will Guidara:

I put a lot of it in this book.

Debbie Millman:

It’s so good.

Will Guidara:

But he continues to put out good stuff. The other advice he gave me in that moment was he said, “Hey, do you want to work for that company?” And I said, “Yes.” He goes, “What do you want to do with them? I said, I want to run Shake Shack one day.” And he goes, well, “Hey, if you want them to be there for you and you need them, you better make sure you’re there for them when they need you.”

Debbie Millman:

Good

Will Guidara:

Advice. It was always important to him that I understood, especially as someone from a younger generation, that it wasn’t the company’s responsibility to take care of me. It was our responsibility to take care of one another. And that I always approached every relationship in that virtuous way. I think you see a lot of people these days that just wait for the company to take care of them, not realizing that relationships are always two-way streets.

Debbie Millman:

You were serious about wanting to go work at Shake Shack after that first year. But with the success that you almost instantly had together, you decided not to go to Shake Shack and stayed at Eleven Madison Park. And in the 13 years under your joint leadership, Eleven Madison Park received four stars from the New York Times, three Michelin stars, and went from one to three in an unheard of jump. In 2017, landed at the top of the list of the world’s 50 best restaurants. It won seven James Beard Awards, including outstanding service and outstanding restaurants in America, which was also really unheard of.

I’d like to talk a little bit about a few of the ways in which you were able to achieve this. From what I understand, first, you looked at organizations known for extraordinary company cultures at the time, companies like Nordstrom and Apple and JetBlue, and they all held what I’m very familiar with in the corporate branding world, strategic planning sessions or long form meetings where groups from across the organization get together to brainstorm ways for the company to grow. And you’ve written how this was a revelation to you as the practice was virtually unheard of in the restaurant world. What gave you the sense that this was something that you should do in the first place?

Will Guidara:

I mean, there was this review written about us in early days where the critics said she wished we had a bit more Miles Davis.

Debbie Millman:

Yes, a bit more cool.

Will Guidara:

And it started this entire thing where I was craving language to define what we were trying to be. I really believe that language matters so much, and having clearly articulated ideas that the team can rally around is essential to a company’s success. And when she said that, I started reading everything I could about Miles to come up with the words that were most commonly used to describe the approach he took to the music. And those words ended up being like our mission statement, for lack of a better term.

Debbie Millman:

And those words were painted on the wall of the kitchen.

Will Guidara:

Yeah, exactly.

Debbie Millman:

I think Roger Martin helped you as well with his theory of integrated thinking, and I’m wondering if you can talk a little bit about what you learned in that process.

Will Guidara:

Well, so Roger, I’ve only gotten to know more recently, and I love meeting people like Roger because you hear how other people articulate in a more studied way, the things that have come intuitively to you. Roger Martin, in his concept of integrated thinking, he talks about choosing conflicting goals, how rather than approaching things in an either or perspective, approaching them in a both perspective sometimes leads to the greatest innovations, because it requires you to be much more radically creative to figure out how to accomplish two seemingly opposite goals simultaneously.

But just going back, the Miles Davis thing showed me the power of learning from other people outside of our industry. I think anytime you’re trying to elevate something within an industry, making sure that you’re learning from people from different disciplines ensures that you’re bringing a fresh point of view to your discipline.

And so I just started studying these other companies and the idea of strategic planning was so amazing to me because when I looked around our team, we had 150 amazingly smart people, and yet it was just me and Daniel at the top making all the decisions. And imagine a world where we could harness the collective creativity of the many. It would always yield better results than relying on just that of one or two. And those strategic planning meetings, which over the years became a day every year where we’d come together and create our to-do list for the year that followed. We dream, crazy, big, small, and everything in between ideas, and many of the ideas that came from the most unlikely people ended up being the ones that made us who we ended up becoming.

Debbie Millman:

In 2010, you and Daniel were approached by Andrew Zobler, one of the partners in the hotel group that developed the Ace Hotel on 29th and Broadway in Manhattan. And you asked Danny Meyer if you could both run Eleven Madison Park and own this new restaurant, but he didn’t think he could be partners with you at one restaurant and competitors with you at another just a few blocks away. Ultimately, Danny sold Eleven Madison Park to you both. Why did he let the restaurant go?

Will Guidara:

I think Danny understands that restaurants are living, breathing things, and at the end of the day, if you want to build something that stands the tests of time, we all need to recognize that in our highest and best form, we’re simply caretakers of it, for any measure of time. He put us in, we were a good team, we were making huge strides, but he also recognized that both of us wanted to be entrepreneurs. And the best way to keep Eleven Madison Park on its ascent was to pass the baton, which shows the unbelievable humility and selflessness and character and why he’s just one of the best people that has ever existed.

Debbie Millman:

You and Daniel raised the money. You bought Eleven Madison Park from Union Square Hospitality Group, and you took all of your learning and brought it to your new venture at Nomad. How hard was it to create an entirely new and original restaurant from nothing? Eleven Madison Park had already existed when you came in to reposition and remake it, but Nomad was from scratch.

Will Guidara:

I mean, I’m not sure I’d use the word hard. It was electrifyingly fun and exciting and well, exhausting and challenging. I mean, this is the coolest thing about restaurants, is that we get to dream up these fantastical worlds in our heads. And then one day, we get to invite people to walk into them. Nomad, I describe as like an urban playground. This labyrinth of awesome. And creating that restaurant was one of the greatest experiences of my life. So was it easy? No. But it’s hard for me to say it was hard because of how fulfilling it was.

Debbie Millman:

You described the hospitality that you’ve created as unreasonable hospitality. What is unreasonable hospitality?

Will Guidara:

When I look across disciplines at the people that are the most successful in them, whether it’s directors, designers, tech entrepreneurs, you name it. They’re all unreasonable in pursuit of the product they’re creating. For me, unreasonable hospitality is making the choice to be just as relentless, just as willing to do whatever it takes, but not in pursuit of the product, not even pursuit of how you serve it, but in pursuit of how you make people feel when you do. To take the same amount of time, energy, intention, creativity, as so many do in my world, as chefs do in the presentation, the plating, the technique, the ingredients, but to do it in pursuit of all the little details that give people that sense of belonging, that make people feel seen, that make people feel profoundly welcome. It goes back to that Maya Angelou quote. If all that people are going to remember is how you made them feel, then if you’re going to be unreasonable in pursuit of anything, it should be in pursuit of that.

Debbie Millman:

One of the common denominators in both Eleven Madison Park and Nomad was your desire to take care of people, and create that feeling that they would never forget. And you’ve said that chefs all over the world are celebrated for being unreasonable in pursuit of creating the food that they serve. You chose to be unreasonable in pursuit of your hospitality, how it made people feel, and the depth of the gestures that you would give to the people in your dining room. And that was really palpable as somebody that has been to Eleven Madison Park twice and Nomad many, many times, I felt that all the time. And you and Daniel did that for a long time together. Yet in 2019, you decided to move on. You sold your shares of the company to Daniel Humm. What made you decide to do that?

Will Guidara:

We fell out of love. We spent a lot of time deciding how to split up the company, but in each of us respectively, trying to hold onto our piece, it felt to me like we were tearing it apart.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah.

Will Guidara:

My dad at that point in my career, gave me the advice. He said, “Hey, you’re about to walk into one of the most challenging years of your life. At every cross section, ask yourself what right looks like and do that.” He went on to say, “That’s not always going to be the easiest advice to follow, because sometimes it’ll feel like the not best thing for you in the short term, but it’ll always be the best thing for you in the long term because integrity is the one thing you can never get back.”

Debbie Millman:

You’re now at the helm of a brand new company called Thank You. Why that name and what have you set out to do in your new company?

Will Guidara:

There are a lot of restaurants, a lot of businesses generally, that once upon a time forgot they were in the business of serving people and instead, started serving their own egos. The company that I want to be remembered for is not one, regardless of accolades and success, that when people walk into our doors, we feel like they should be lucky to be there. But conversely, that we feel such immense gratitude that they’re there. I have always wanted to be in a gratitude first organization, both to the people we serve, and all that we work with. And if you want someone to act a certain way, put it in the title. And if you want a company to act a certain way, put it in the name.

Debbie Millman:

I know you’re also the star of a new television show called The Big Brunch, which was created in is hosted by the great Emmy-winning TV star, Dan Levy. Tell us about the show and what it’s like being on air.

Will Guidara:

I mean, it was super fun to do. It was the first time in a very, very long time that I’ve been an employee. Where I could just show up and not have to worry about all the drama. That was fun. I like doing things where I get to learn something new alongside creative and interesting people. The thesis of it was to be the TV show that demonstrated that, okay, television needs to be dramatic, but you can have drama without being dramatic, or ill spirited, or tearing people down. That it’s just as engaging to lift people up. And that was the spirit of the show, and the product that came through is one I’m really proud of.

Debbie Millman:

It’s really, really fun. My favorite line in your memoir, I’ve already been sharing with all my students, my undergrads, my grads, they’ve already memorizing it and it is this, “The way you do one thing, is the way you do everything.” You put into words what I have been trying to imbue in my students for decades, that every single thing you do counts. And the way you do one thing is the way you do everything. Talk about how and why you came up with that line.

Will Guidara:

Too many people decide to turn off and on caring. They only choose to care at certain times, and then they turn it off and, “All right, I don’t need to care anymore for a while.” And I just don’t think that’s possible. I think that if you care, and honestly this can be directed at anything. If you care about people or details or excellence or hospitality, whatever it is, you can’t just care some of the time, because you can never turn it fully on after it’s been turned off. And I think that every detail matters in just how you want to show up in the world. And so I do think the way you do one thing is the way you do everything. That doesn’t mean that you’re not going to do certain things better than other things, but it’s what you bring to the table, how much of yourself you bring to the table.

Debbie Millman:

It’s the intention.

Will Guidara:

Yeah, it’s the intention.

Debbie Millman:

The intention you bring to one thing is the intention you can bring to everything. Your wife, who we’ve already mentioned, the great Christina Tosi is the founder of Milk Bar. Any chance we might see a collaboration between the two of you? Aside from Frankie?

Will Guidara:

I was about to say, the best collaboration in the world is about 20 months old. Her name is Frankie. And I mean, if that’s any indication of what we can build together, we’d probably do something cool. But I think for now, we’ll stick to just creating people.

Debbie Millman:

Will Guidara, thank you for making so much work and so many experiences that matter. And thank you for joining me today on Design Matters.

Will Guidara:

I loved this conversation.

Debbie Millman:

Me too.

Will Guidara:

And I appreciate you so much.

Debbie Millman:

Thank you. Will Guidara’s magnificent memoir is titled Unreasonable Hospitality: the Remarkable Power of Giving People More Than What They Expect. You can read more about Will, and see more about what he’s up to at his new company website, thankyou.nyc. This is the 18th year we’ve been podcasting Design Matters, and I’d like to thank you for listening. And remember, we can talk about making a difference, we can make a difference, or we can do both. I’m Debbie Millman, and I look forward to talking with you again soon.

The post Design Matters: Will Guidara appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Debbie Millman:

Bobbi Brown created her eponymous line in the early ’90s, and then sold it to the Estee Lauder company in 1995. After 25 years heading the brand, Bobbi has moved on. In the time, she’s written nine best selling books. She’s consulted with TV shows. She’s recently become a health coach. She’s bought and refurbished a hotel. And yes, she recently started another company and a new beauty brand. She joins me today to talk about the evolution of her remarkable groundbreaking career and her new line of cosmetics. Bobbi Brown, welcome to Design Matters.

Bobbi Brown:

Oh, thank you so much. And it’s a pleasure talking to you, you have such a calming voice.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, thank you.

Bobbi Brown:

Yeah, so just saying that, so I’m happy to talk to you.

Debbie Millman:

Bobbi, is it true that your ring tone is I Can’t Get No Satisfaction?

Bobbi Brown:

It’s one of the five, and yes that is one of them.

Debbie Millman:

Wait a minute, so who is I Can’t Get No Satisfaction appointed to, and what are the other four?

Bobbi Brown:

Right now, I actually have Happy by Pharrell, and I definitely have some Biggie, because I love rap. Just when I get bored, I change it. I’m also this weird girl that changes my covers on my iPhone because I get bored. So maybe because I didn’t have daughters, so I couldn’t buy these different outfits, I changed my iPhone.

Debbie Millman:

Now, I know you’ve worked with the Rolling Stones before, did they ever hear your phone go off?

Bobbi Brown:

I don’t think they did. I’ve done their makeup for album covers. And I had this out-of-body experience a bunch of years later, where I was doing the fashion show of the then Mick Jagger’s girlfriend, L’Wren Scott, and was invited over to their home for dinner. And that was an out-of-body experience, having spent an evening at Mick’s house with six people. That was pretty cool.

Debbie Millman:

And what a loss for the world, to lose L’Wren.

Bobbi Brown:

She was unbelievable. A dear friend, and the tallest woman I’ve ever been with, and I am five foot tall.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, did you get a good picture? Because I know you like to do that-

Bobbi Brown:

Oh, I did. We always said together, we were the perfect 10. She was the one and I was the zero. We were the perfect 10.

Debbie Millman:

Bobbi, you grew up in the suburbs of Chicago. You said that your mother, your Aunt Alice and the actress Allie MacGraw were your role models. Why Allie MacGraw?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, different role models for different things. I mean, my mother is responsible for me falling in love with makeup and following it as a career. She always encouraged me. My Aunt Alice is the woman that has taught me the most about life, about how to be grounded, about what’s important and how not to sweat the small stuff. And Allie MacGraw, when I saw Love Story, I was in middle school, and at a time in my life where I didn’t feel enough; pretty enough, cute enough. And I saw Allie MacGraw with her natural hair and hardly any makeup, and it’s the first time I said, you know what, I could be pretty too. So there are different reasons.

Debbie Millman:

You’ve written about how your mother was an extraordinarily glamorous woman and you loved watching her apply white eyeshadow and black liner in her blue gilded bathroom. What enthralled you so much about makeup at that time in your life?

Bobbi Brown:

I’m not sure. I mean, I was not a student, so reading and studying were not my passion in life. So I just always loved, not glamor, I didn’t love glamor, but I just loved ways to better yourself. Whether it’s through diet, even back then, or certainly with makeup, but I used to watch my mom. And it was the ’70s, and so my mother was 20 when I was born. So she was always 20 years older than me. So when I was 10, she was 30 and still incredibly glamorous. And she pretty much channeled anyone from Cher to Jackie Kennedy. She just always had this amazing beauty and perfection about her, and I could never compete with that. So I never tried, I always felt so silly when I would do my makeup like she did. So I did it my way.

Debbie Millman:

You know Bobbi, I don’t want to be pandering. I have been accused at the, certainly in the early years of this podcast, for fawning over my guests. But I do have to say, you’re really beautiful. I don’t know where you come up, you know, this like zero and that you thought you could be pretty… You are really a beautiful woman. I don’t know where that’s coming from.

Bobbi Brown:

Well, thank you. But I’m realistic and I kind of have a sense of humor about it. And coming from the suburbs of Chicago, I wasn’t like my friends that were the cheerleaders. I wasn’t like my friends that were the student council. I was in the popular group, but I couldn’t really figure out where I belonged. I was kind of and I still am, chameleon. I would go with one group and I’d fit in, then I’d go with another group. I’ve always been a sponge, which has served me well in my adult life. But when you’re growing up, you get insecure. And I was the shortest one. I’ve always had to watch every morsel in my mouth, or I could definitely be a very heavy girl at five-foot tall.

Debbie Millman:

So we are contemporaries, we grew up at exactly the same time. Our mothers are also 20 years older than both of us. So I have to ask, was there ever a time when you wore green eyeshadow?

Bobbi Brown:

I never wore green eyeshadow, but I did wear lavender and a little bit of pale blue. Because I remember on the bus, I would bring this Yardley palette I had and just put a very small amount close to my lashes. I guess my mother didn’t want me to wear makeup at school, so I did it on the bus.

Debbie Millman:

I also was not allowed to wear makeup, but I was so desperate, I also brought makeup and nail polish to school. And I put on the nail polish in the morning and took it off before I went home. But I wore red, so it was really hard to get it out of the cuticles. How did you wear your hair back in the ’70s?

Bobbi Brown:

Oh, I have been wearing my hair the exact same way: parted in the middle, dark, long and whether that’s Allie MacGraw, I mean-

Debbie Millman:

I was going to say Allie MacGraw, for sure.

Bobbi Brown:

I still do that. People always say, “Where do you part your hair?” I’m like, “In the middle.” And my hair, which looks dark now, is actually 100% white. I always thought when I maybe turn 60, now that I’m 64, I’m like 70, I’m like, no. Maybe at 80, I’ll let it go. But right now, I like coloring it.

Debbie Millman:

So as soon as you were old enough, you got your introduction to formal training at your local small cosmetic store.

Bobbi Brown:

Well, no, not formal training. It was almost like a job interview at the local makeup store. It was a friend of my mother’s. I didn’t actually work there, because my experience at this store was, I went in and she said, “I’m going to teach you everything I know. I’m going to show you how to do makeup.” And she started with taking everything off. And she said, “Well, your skin is really yellow, so let me make it pink. And by the way, your nose is too big, so I’m going to show you how to contour it. And your lips are too small, let me show you how you can make them bigger. And your eyes are very beady or small, let me make those bigger.” By the time I was done, she made me feel like I was the ugliest person. And I looked in the mirror. And I just said, “Oh my God, I looked terrible.”

Bobbi Brown:

I went home, I didn’t cry. I washed my face and I said, “I look much better.” And I never wanted to work there. But I did see this woman, her name was Elaine, about a 20 years ago and she said, “I am responsible for your success.” And I said, “Yes, you are part of it. That is true.”

Debbie Millman:

But not for the reason you think.

Bobbi Brown:

Yeah, exactly.

Debbie Millman:

At that point in your life, what did you think you wanted to do professionally?

Bobbi Brown:

I didn’t know. I mean, I was still in high school. So I was more concerned with hanging with my friends. And even when it was time to go to college, I didn’t go look at colleges, I followed a boyfriend to University of Wisconsin at Oshkosh. I graduated high school early, not because I had great grades, but because I just did my homework to be done, so I could do something else. So I went there for six months. And then I went to University of Arizona. I was there for a year, and I came home and said, “Mom, school is so boring, I want to drop out.” And she said, “You can’t drop out.” And she said, “What do you want to do?” And I said, “I have no idea.” She said, “Pretend today’s your birthday and you could do anything you want. What would you want to do?”

Bobbi Brown:

I could have said, go to Paris. I could have said, go clothes shopping. I said, “I want to go to Marshall Field’s the department store and play with makeup.” And she said, “Why don’t you be a makeup artist?” I said, “I don’t want to go to beauty school.” She said, “I’m sure there’s a college somewhere.” And I found Emerson College in Boston, and that changed my life.

Debbie Millman:

A friend of your father’s first told you about Emerson College and you were ultimately able to create your own major in theatrical makeup. But you’ve said that the reason that you went, the real reason you went to Emerson was because of the Magic Pan cafe.

Bobbi Brown:

Yes, yes.

Debbie Millman:

Tell us that story.

Bobbi Brown:

As a kid growing up in the suburbs of Chicago, we didn’t have a lot of outdoor restaurants back then. I flew up to Boston. It was very magical. Boston looks like Europe. And there was this Magic Pan cafe with umbrellas outside, and I literally flew up two days before Emerson started. And I walked into the office and basically anything I said I wanted to do, they said, “You could do it here, sure.” I said, “Okay.” And I created my own major. And I realized, that was the start of me learning how to be an entrepreneur.

Debbie Millman:

You said that when you found Emerson, you found yourself.

Bobbi Brown:

Yes.

Debbie Millman:

In what way?

Bobbi Brown:

Because it was the first time I was with people that were just like me. I always felt I wasn’t as smart as my other friends, I wasn’t as smart as the other kids in some of my classes. And I wasn’t interested in traditional education, which I didn’t realize at the time, is because I am a visual creative person. But when I went to Emerson, there was a bunch of “goofballs” like myself, that were creative and passionate and fiery. And not afraid to try things, and just jumped into all these new experiences. Like filmmaking and public speaking and whatever else there was. And I was studying makeup. And I did make up for all the different things at school. It was just a really, really amazing experience for me.

Debbie Millman:

When did you go from more theatrical makeup to fashion makeup?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, in college, my degree was in theatrical makeup, because it wasn’t a fashion school. I didn’t even think of it back then, because I really only assumed that being a makeup artist meant you worked in TV and movies. I didn’t understand that there was other things. So I studied theatrical makeup. I did one film, right after I graduated, it was torture for me. It was so boring, being a makeup artist sitting on the set, and just waiting for your turn to fix and touch up and continuity. And I learned, when I picked up a magazine once and read a story about a freelance makeup artist who was doing makeup for fashion week and ads, and she just sounded like this amazing career.

Bobbi Brown:

And so I wrote to her and said, can I come and assist you for free? She never wrote me back. But when I came to New York, I called her, she never called me back. On her answering machine, it said, call her agent, which I did. And he said, come see me. And he didn’t represent me, but at least he told me the steps I needed to take to become a makeup artist in the fashion world. So I did.

Debbie Millman:

You said that at this point in your life, one of the best things you had going for you was that you were naive. And in retrospect, you felt that you couldn’t believe that you had the guts to show your amateur portfolio of makeup work from college, in which half of the models were yourself.

Bobbi Brown:

Right, well, yeah.

Debbie Millman:

I’m just wondering, do you really think it was naivety? I think it’s also kind of courageous.

Bobbi Brown:

Well, I think you could look at it both ways. I mean, yes, I’ve always been courageous, not afraid that someone’s going to say something. But I’m naive thinking that they might not like this, or naive that, oh, you don’t just do this. I’m not afraid to ask anyone any question, I never have been. I’ve never thought of, oh, what could happen? So it is being naive. And it’s kind of a good quality. I didn’t realize it. And yes, it’s courageous, because I’m not afraid of them saying no. I think I’m someone that sees opportunity when other people see roadblocks.

Debbie Millman:

What are you afraid of?

Bobbi Brown:

I’m afraid of safety, health and wellness for the people I love. I’m very nurturing and I happen to have this amazing career, but I’ve literally put most of my time and energy and emotions into my family. Right now, I am literally one week away from my first kids wedding. Honestly, I’ve been just sitting there crying listening to mother-son songs. So I’m trying not to focus on that. I’m not afraid of failure, because to me, there is no such a thing. When something doesn’t work out, it’s an opportunity or a message to do something else.

Debbie Millman:

When you first got to New York, in an effort to get work at that time, you placed an ad in the Village Voice offering makeup lessons, and you got one answer, one response. Tell us a little bit about who it was and what he wanted you to do?

Bobbi Brown:

First of all, I am so incredibly impressed in how much homework you have done. I hope you are also a writer on the side, and could write my memoir, because it would be awesome. Save me a lot of time and energy. But yes, I thought well, okay, I needed cash. I had no money and my father, as a graduation gift, bought me my rent for one year. So I put an ad in the Village Voice, I got one call. I think I charged $150. It was from a man who said he was an actor and he was in a play. And it was actually a man, if I had to guess, because he didn’t tell me that he was going through something personal, and he was a cross dresser or something, because he brought an entire Louis Vuitton bag full of women’s clothes.

Bobbi Brown:

And he just wanted me to teach him how to put makeup on. And he tried on all the clothes, and it was just me and him in the space. And I’ll never forget it. And I was like, okay, maybe this is not a good idea. And I never did it again.

Debbie Millman:

Over time, you got some work assisting on Saturday Night Live. Within a year, you got a good gig at Glamour magazine. But wasn’t that the job where the hairdresser told you that you would never make it in New York, because you didn’t have a style?

Bobbi Brown:

And he wasn’t the only one that ever told me that. I’ve had stylists. And I had one that took me shopping in the East Village to buy me leather pants, because she thought I needed a style. And I’ll never forget when I put those leather pants on, I bought them and I put them on and I was like, oh my God, I look like an idiot.

Debbie Millman:

Now, how do you handle that kind of feedback? Did it give you pause? Did you think that perhaps she could be right?

Bobbi Brown:

Of course, I absolutely always listened to what people say and think about it. It’s taken me years to let go of any kind of insecurity and feeling bad about these things that people say. And realizing that you know what, I do have a style. It might not be your style, but it’s my style. Yeah, of course, at the time, when anyone tells you any kind of criticism, your portfolio, your work isn’t up to speed, or you need to start contouring models’ faces if you want to work, you need to do this. I always had people telling me things. And I also was smart enough, maybe naive enough to know this is their opinion. And other people have different opinions. But I always asked, because I do like feedback.

Debbie Millman:

What do you think of the current high contour phase we seem to be going through brought on by the Kardashians?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, I’m not a fan of it, at all. I don’t like it. I find that it, if anything, it’s telling women what’s wrong with their features they have. I’m someone that believes that natural beauty is the best kind. And I’m 64 years old, do I wish I didn’t have lines in my forehead? I don’t really even wish that, because it’s not possible. So why spend the energy doing that? I just don’t focus on natural aging on myself. But I try to always look better, feel better, how I could be healthier, because I just look better when I’m healthier.

Debbie Millman:

There seems to be an almost acceptable trend now, for a lot of plastic surgery. At one point, it was very secretive and people were sort of ashamed about it. Now, it seems very out in the open and there does seem to be a very specific kind of look that people are going for, which to me, feels really unnatural and really highly constructed. How do you feel about what’s happening? And it’s sort of a leading question, given that I’ve just told you my opinion first.

Bobbi Brown:

Well, I remember when it started coming out and be more popular about 20 years ago, where people were, yes, I just got some Botox, or yes, I just got some filler. And it was still whispered, but I tried Botox twice. And both times, I had terrible, terrible reactions. I just remember saying, okay, this makes me look weird, I don’t like it. And I happen to be married to someone that doesn’t like that look. So I just never went back there. And there’s some people that do it, and you can’t really tell, and it’s tasteful. But there’s a lot of people that do it and you could tell. And I’m not a fan of it, but honestly, I’m not here to judge. Because there’re so many different women out there, and men by the way, that like and want different things.

Bobbi Brown:

I think that’s okay. I mean, we’re in a place and a time where we have to find more love in our hearts for people. We have to find more acceptance of people that are different. And I think that if I can do anything, I could at least encourage people to be the healthiest versions of themselves. So they hopefully will feel better and not do things they don’t need to do.

Debbie Millman:

One of your first big breakthroughs took seven years. It was your first American Vogue cover. You worked with Patrick Demarchelier. And he was photographing Naomi Campbell for her first Vogue cover in 1989. And you’ve written about how this shoot was the first time anyone had filled Naomi’s lips in with a dark color. Prior to that, her signature lick was a dark outline around her lips with the inside being a lighter lip cover. And I went and looked at photos and it had that very ’50s kind of fake look. And you thought making her entire lip darker looked better, which it absolutely did. How did that cover change your career?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, first of all, the shoot was at like sunrise in the middle of the summer. So it was in the seven o’clocks. We started the makeup very, very early, and we touched it up on the beach. And there were no mirrors. It was an old Calvin Klein lipstick, where I blotted it on her lip. And I was like, “Oh my God, it’s so beautiful.” And Patrick, his famous, [“Genial 00:21:10]! genial!” I’m like, all right. We shot it, and you never know if it’s a cover, it’s a cover try. And it did become a cover. And I heard through the grapevine that Naomi was very upset at the time, but I think she stopped doing it after that.

Debbie Millman:

She did, I looked. I couldn’t find anything post that cover.

Bobbi Brown:

Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

And and now her lips look exactly they did on your cover from 1989.

Bobbi Brown:

Right. So I stuck to my gut. I was really bad, and I still am, at doing makeup that I don’t find natural. And I don’t really get hired as much to do those kind of jobs anymore.

Debbie Millman:

At that point, as a makeup artist with essentially access to everything in the market, I understand that you found most products too artificial looking, making it really challenging to create a more natural look. And at the time, the most popular look was very, very white skin with bright red lips and painted, sculpted faces. And you wouldn’t do that kind of makeup. And in fact, I’ve read that you’ve stated that you couldn’t do that kind of makeup.

Bobbi Brown:

Yep.

Debbie Millman:

How come?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, I couldn’t, because I didn’t think it looked good. So no matter what I did, I couldn’t do it. And I remember the first time I tried, I got hired to do a cover of British Cosmo with Jerry Hall. And she was lovely. And she was a very, very big model at the time. I’d never met her before. And when I finished her makeup, I handed her a mirror, because I always handed people mirrors to say, “How do you like it?” And she looked at it, she said, “Oh, it’s very pretty.” She said, “Do you mind if I do a couple things?” I said, “Not at all.” She said, “Could you hand me that brush and that palette?” I said, “Sure.” She sat there and redid her entire face contouring, over-lining, whatever the look of the time was. And number one, I learned a lot about certain things that I might not have noticed. And number two, she was happy. So it became a cover. I still have it somewhere. And I couldn’t do it myself. She did it.

Bobbi Brown:

And that happened a couple other times, but then I’d work with other women that allowed me to do my thing. That didn’t even look in the mirror. The first time I did Diane Sawyer, I did her makeup. I showed her a mirror, she said, “Oh, I’m sure it’s fine.” And I was like, “Wow, things like that are memorable to me.”

Debbie Millman:

You said you learned a lot from the experience with Jerry Hall. What did you learn?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, I learned, number one, that it’s really important for the person you’re making up for a shoot to feel that they’re at their absolute best. Because that’s going to make the best picture. I also learned things like she did her brows all the way to the edges, and used the brush to raise the brow for the arch. So I took away makeup techniques that I might not have known, but then I have kind of made them my own. And that has happened dozens and dozens and dozens of times. I always hand someone the mirror and see if they’re happy. And it’s not always a perfect experience, but I think a partnership when it comes to makeup, is the way to go.

Debbie Millman:

Most lipsticks on the market at that time, looked artificial, smelled bad, really artificial and had a texture that was either greasy or dry. And to create lipsticks that were more flattering, you mixed commonly used colors that were very popular at the time: ultra bright fuchsia, oh my God, the ’80s, acid oranges, frosted pinks with a little matte beige color to create prettier, more wearable shades that looked great on pretty much anyone. Can you share how you created your bespoke nude shade at the time?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, when I was a makeup artist without a line, I figured out the beige tones down bad colors. And this blackberry tone into a lipstick makes it more evening, I learned all these different tricks. So when I sat down and thought about this bespoke range I was going to create, it started with one color that looked like my lips. And I thought, oh my God, this is amazing. It was kind of like brownie, beigey, blue toned, it’s hard to even describe. And I said, oh my God, everyone’s going to love this. And then I realized, everyone’s not going to love it, because this particular color is my lip color. But women have pale lips and dark lips and blue lips. So I needed to make lipstick of all the lipstick shades.

Bobbi Brown:

And then I also said, well, okay, some people don’t like their nude lipstick colors. And by the way, we all have different nude lipsticks. And some people like red, pink and orange, so I made those colors too. So I curated 10 colors, and I thought, all right, with these 10 colors, anyone can find their shade. Or if you bought all 10, you can literally create any color in the world and never have to buy another lipstick.

Debbie Millman:

I read that you thought about different women you knew at the time and tried to imagine their perfect shade. Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy was the inspiration for a great red, Ricky Lauren inspired pale pink. Adrian Vittadini was the inspiration for beige, to Lisa Soto for raisin. And Naomi Campbell was Blackberry. I saw some of the wonderful swatches that you first created and worked with the Kiehl’s Chemist to help create. How long did it take you to perfect the color palette?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, we started with brown, which was my color, and then back then, we would just mail things back and forth to each other. It probably took me about six or nine months, coincidentally, it was the exact same time where I was having my first baby. So I had the time and I was not impatient. And I had no idea what was going to happen. I really thought I was just going to make these lipsticks to sell the models, maybe sell to my friends in the suburbs where I lived. And I had no idea what was going to happen, honestly. And so I did it. And I’m like, wow, this is so cool. And I started then selling them out of my home, mailing them to people. That’s how it began.

Debbie Millman:

I read that you got a three-line description of the new brand, Bobbi Brown Essentials, in Glamour magazine, which included your phone number. Did that jumpstart your sales? Did people realize? Did that do anything?

Bobbi Brown:

It did. So everything for me just kind of happens for a reason. I was having lunch with a friend who happened to be the beauty editor at the time, Leslie Seymour. And we talked about our first baby and work and she said, “What are you doing?” And I said, “I’m working on this makeup line. And I’m selling these out of my house.” And she says, “That’s so interesting, tell me about it.” She said, “Can I write about it?” And I was like, “Why would you want to write about it?” Now I know it’s called PR. And it did jumpstart people knowing about it. And we started selling them out of my house. And I think we did that for a year, maybe a year and a half.

Bobbi Brown:

And then I one day was at a party in New York, and I thanked the person that invited me who, someone else brought me to the party. And I said to her, as I do, I talk to everybody, and I said, “What do you do?” And she said, “I’m a cosmetics buyer of Bergdorf Goodman.” I said, “Oh, I have this line of lipsticks.” And she said, “I’ll take them.” And that kind of started the conversation.

Debbie Millman:

Well, if she said you would take them and then she actually reneged.

Bobbi Brown:

She did.

Debbie Millman:

Tell us that story, because that’s one of my favorite Bobbi Brown stories.

Bobbi Brown:

Right? Well, she said, sounds amazing, she’ll bring them in and get everyone’s opinion. And she called me and said, “Everyone’s really excited. We’ll take them” And I said, “That’s so great.” And then I think it must have been days later, I was doing a shoot for Saks, Fifth Avenue, their catalog. And I had all the colors, because I was always busy doing something in between, getting ready for the makeup. And one of the art directors came over and said, “What are you doing? That’s so cool.” And I said, “Oh, I’m launching this line of lipsticks at Bergdorf.” And then later in the day, I called in to get my messages on my phone. I remember I had a beeper. And one of the messages was from the buyer that said, “I am so sorry, I have bad news. But we can’t take the lipsticks right now because we don’t have any room.”

Bobbi Brown:

So I remember my heart sunk into my stomach, and I was so bummed out. And the art directors came back over to show the other art directors and said, “Oh my God, we’d love to take this.” And I said, I don’t even know why I thought of this, and this was after the Bergdorf call, “I said, well, you can’t have it, because I’m launching a Bergdorf’s.” And then the burglar of person called back, asked me something, and I said, “No worries, it’s not a problem, because Saks wants it.” And she said, “I’ll call you back.” And they took it. So, yeah.

Debbie Millman:

I love that story, I love that story. And now they’re in both places.

Bobbi Brown:

Yes, yes.

Debbie Millman:

Your first 10 lipsticks debuted in 1991 at Bergdorf Goodman. You were projecting to sell 100 in a month, you sold 100 within the first day. What do you attribute to the success so quickly after launch?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, I think I hit a nerve. And I know I’m doing it today in the new company too. But I think back then, I hit a nerve. Because people really liked the feel of these lipsticks, they liked the colors. And it was so different than what was on the market, where most of the lipsticks on the market were the artificial, smelly, bright lipsticks. These were, they were comfortable on your lips, and they were colors that worked not just to match your lips, but with your skin. So they were so easy. And you put them on and you’re like, oh my God, it looks good. And so it hit a nerve. And it was very much word-of-mouth in the beginning. We didn’t advertise. And there was no social media, there was nothing that we have today. It was really word-of-mouth, and also the fact that I was a PR editorial makeup artist. So magazines would write about it. And it just kind of started taking off.

Debbie Millman:

You’ve talked at length about how you grew up in a time when beauty was epitomized by tall all-American models like Cheryl Tiegs and Christie Brinkley. You’ve said that when you look at a woman, you actually don’t see what’s wrong with her, if they don’t look that way. You see what’s right with her. Has that always been the case for you?

Bobbi Brown:

Yes. And I’ve always appreciated interesting beauty. It was never the classic, blond, blue eye, ’80s model or ’70s model. I loved when I started meeting women of different coloring, different things that they had. Whether it was someone who’s mixed, and I would always want to know, what are you? What are you? And I just always appreciated. And back then, I mean, I can’t even believe they called it ethnic beauty, which is anyone that wasn’t blond and blue eyes, basically. So now, it’s like women with strong noses, I love freckles. I actually like lines in the face. I like character and I like full lips. And I like just different things on different people.

Debbie Millman:

After four years, just four years, you were able to sell your company to Estee Lauder. But even before that, you had two big offers you turned down. What made you decide to sell to Lauder?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, I think that when Leonard Lauder called, and I didn’t think about selling to Estee Lauder, I thought about selling to Leonard Lauder. When Leonard called and asked to meet me, I went with the partner to his house. And I fell in love with him. And he basically said, “You’re beating us in the stores, I would like to buy you.” And at the time I said, “We’re really not on the market, we’re not for sale.” He said, “What if I could tell you, you could do what you love, and we could do all the things you don’t love? And what if I tell you that you could spend quality time as a mother and with your children, and do all the things that bring you joy?” And I was like, “Hmm, interesting.” And it was an offer that I couldn’t refuse.

Bobbi Brown:

It was an amazing feeling. I never felt bad. I mean, it was an incredible experience. I was thrilled my husband and I were able to send all of our nieces and nephews to college and just, it was an amazing thing.

Debbie Millman:

Didn’t he also tell you that you reminded him of his mother?

Bobbi Brown:

He did.

Debbie Millman:

And her entrepreneurship, when she started?

Bobbi Brown:

Yes, he did. But I used to laugh that okay, we both had boys, she had two, I had three. She would hang out with royalty and presidents and I hung out with basketball players and rap stars.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, but I think yours sounds a lot more fun.

Bobbi Brown:

I think so, even though I really want to meet the queen. That’s been my lifelong dream.

Debbie Millman:

Well, you did meet some loyalty here in the United States, in 2010, you were appointed by then President, Barack Obama to the Advisory Committee for Trade Policy and Negotiation. You were invited by First Lady, Michelle Obama to participate in the White House’s Leadership and Mentoring Program for Young Women. And I believe you almost did Michelle Obama’s makeup for the 2009 inauguration. Is that correct?

Bobbi Brown:

Yes, I’ve done her makeup before, but I didn’t get the job for the inauguration. She brought her Chicago team. I don’t blame her. But I ended up doing Dr. Biden’s makeup, and becoming a very good friend of hers. I did her makeup for both inaugurations. And I don’t remember if it was a first or second one, I think it was the first one, where I somehow ended up in a motorcade amongst all of these guys that I had no idea who they were. And one guy turned to me, he said, “Who are you?” I said, “Oh, I’m a makeup artist.’ He’s like, “What are you doing in my motorcade?” And I said, “Well, I did Dr. Biden’s makeup.” And I’m like, “Who are you?” And he said, “I am Leon Panetta, the Secretary of Defense.” I’m like, “Nice to meet you.” And he said, “Oh, can I take a picture for my wife?” I do have pictures of me and him in the motorcade.

Debbie Millman:

Awesome. Have you been to the new Biden White House?

Bobbi Brown:

I have not, I have not. It’s been a very interesting time with COVID and everything else. And I think they’re still running and trying to catch up.

Debbie Millman:

By 2010, that same year you were appointed by President Obama to be on the Advisory Committee, Bobbi Brown Cosmetics was available in more than 980 doors, as they call it, 56 countries. By 2012, they were over 60 free standing Bobbi Brown cosmetic stores worldwide. And Bobbi Brown cosmetics were estimated to represent 10% of Estee Lauder company’s total sales, which is quite a lot. You stayed at Lauder for 22 years. What kept you at Lauder for so long?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, I honestly thought I owned the company, I acted as if it was my company, even after I sold it. I had so much support in the beginning. I was pretty much allowed to do what I thought was right, and what I wanted to do, and I interviewed every person that came in the door. I was able to build my team. I was able to do everything from name the products, to create the products, to promote the products. I did everything I was really good at. And for 20 years, it was pretty incredible. And I am so grateful to have had that experience. The last couple years, as I’m sure you could understand, was more challenging. And it was time to go.

Debbie Millman:

It’s interesting. I spoke to Jenna Lyons about leaving J.Crew and she felt that she maybe left one or two years too late. Do you feel that way?

Bobbi Brown:

Yeah, easy to say that now. And by the way, as someone that is Susie’s sunshine and just naive, I always think I could fix things. I always think, all right, I’m going to go in and I’m going to organize, and I’m going to get everyone together, and we’re going to… And it just was challenging. And honestly, it was my Aunt Alice, who is now 90, who, I guess she was 85. And she called me one day, “How’s it going?” And I was like, “Oh my god, Aunt Alice, it’s torture, this, this.” She said, “Honey, It’s time. It’s time.” She said, “I’ve been listening to you complain for years, it’s time.” And it was time. And honestly, it was the biggest gift that could have ever happened to me. Because I would not have been able to be who I am and do all the things, if I was still there.

Debbie Millman:

I read that after the shock of leaving wore off, there was the silence.

Bobbi Brown:

Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

What was the transition like for you?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, it was a joint decision. I went down in the elevator. And it was like the most amazing thing happened, all of this stress left my body. I realized I wasn’t responsible for all the problems anymore. It was an interesting couple days. So I had a couple days where I was, I don’t know if I was shocked, sad, mad, I don’t know what it was. I drank tequila with my friends who live next door to me for two days. And then I started reaching out and calling a few friends. One of the first people I called was Mickey Drexler who was the most incredible mentor to me. And then I called my friend, Richard Baker, who at the time owned Lord and Taylor and Saks. And he said, “I’m so glad.” He said, “I want you to make a justBOBBI store in the middle of Lord and Taylor.” And I said, “Okay.” And my husband said, “I want you to help me with the hotel.” So I had two quiet days. But it was my choice.

Debbie Millman:

You don’t like being bored.

Bobbi Brown:

No, I get bored very easily. And I like to use my imagination in my mind, and my friends and my network. I like being in the middle of it.

Debbie Millman:

You had a four-year non compete in the cosmetics industry, which-

Bobbi Brown:

No-

Debbie Millman:

…meant that you couldn’t-

Bobbi Brown:

I had a 25-year non compete. When we sold the company, I signed a 25-year non compete. When I left Bobbi Brown Cosmetics, I had four and a half years left.

Debbie Millman:

Wow.

Bobbi Brown:

Wow.

Debbie Millman:

So you made a necklace with the date, right?

Bobbi Brown:

Yes, yes.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, you’re still wearing it?

Bobbi Brown:

I’m still wearing it, it’s not on today. But yes, I bought an ampersand. And on the back, I wrote 10.20. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but it signaled my freedom.

Debbie Millman:

How did you manage not knowing what your future looked like for the first time in your career?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, the positive things are, I got to do things like see people for lunch for no reason. I got to ride the train, instead of being in a car service, because I was too cheap to pay my driver. And walk into stores, and see what was out there. I kind of felt like George Bush when he left the White House and said, “Oh, you could just go shopping and put your code in.” So I kind of liked all of that. And I just started thinking about possibilities. And I put together a mini team. And my mini team was to help me, I had a book to promote, Beauty From The Inside Out. And to kind of help me with the George Hotel, help me with justBOBBI at Lord and Taylor. And things just started getting interesting. I ended up getting an offer to create a wellness brand.

Debbie Millman:

Didn’t you become a certified health coach to do that, too?

Bobbi Brown:

I did, I went back to school and I got my degree as a health coach from Institute of Integrative Nutrition. It was all done digitally and so much fun. And I just started talking to people and trying different things. And especially on the hotel, like putting together my favorite brands and products and reaching out to them. And so when you stay at the hotel, you’ll be sleeping on a Casper mattress. You will be having your Nespresso in the morning, and you will have Dyson hair dryer and onward and onward.

Debbie Millman:

So you’re once again building an empire. You’ve launched Evolution_18, it’s a lifestyle-inspired wellness line. You’ve started a website named justBOBBI.com. And drumroll, late last year, you launched your second makeup line in 30 years, your brand new beauty brand Jones Road. Is it true you got the name from the Waze app?

Bobbi Brown:

Yes, because when you’re sitting there deciding what to name this company and I can’t use my name, which is totally fine, did that. We couldn’t agree on names. We asked writers that we know, we hired copywriters. I even had Gloria Steinem working on names, because they did a job with her. She goes, “Oh, I’ll come up with a name.”

Debbie Millman:

What did she recommend?

Bobbi Brown:

You know what, if I could only find that list, because she wrote it on a piece of paper.

Debbie Millman:

In her handwriting.

Bobbi Brown:

Yeah, I know, right? But then one day, my husband, who is my biggest supporter in all of this said to me, “You’ve got to come up with a name.” I said, “I know, but…” dah, dah, dah, “And this one’s not available.” And he said, “We can’t even think of launching until, and we’re starting to run out of time.” So we were driving to the Hamptons. And my husband likes to look at Google Maps and Waze because God forbid, were in traffic, when there’s a back road. And I put my head down and I looked at, I said, “Jones Road Beauty.” And he said, “What?” And I said, “Doesn’t that sound great?” He said, “It actually sounds awesome.” And I called the team, I said, “Put me on speakerphone.” They said, “Love it.” And it became Jones Road Beauty.

Bobbi Brown:

And for me, it was like, okay, Jones Road reminds me of a bespoke brand in the UK. And I’m a total Anglophile. It also was like, okay, well, I can’t use Brown, I’ll use Jones.

Debbie Millman:

I like it, because I actually thought it was like, I have a Jones for something.

Bobbi Brown:

Exactly, and that was the last one. Yeah. And everyone has a Jones for beauty.

Debbie Millman:

Exactly, exactly. So tell us about the brand and your various signature products, some of which I’m wearing.

Bobbi Brown:

Aww. Well, first of all, working on it, it is a clean brand, which just means it’s a brand of now, because there’s 2700 banned ingredients that you cannot have if you want to be a clean brand.

Debbie Millman:

You said 2700?

Bobbi Brown:

2700 and that’s the truth. So I wanted to create the best products, I wanted to make this different kind of makeup. Because what happened also, while I was still at the brand, when you’re part of a big brand in a big corporation, you have many people to please. And you have to come up with these products for different parts of the country. And I had to approve, at the end of my stay, products that I just didn’t like. And I was pressured into it, where I never would have had to do that earlier. And I just don’t like makeup that is so heavy and strong. Things were changing, while I was still at the brand, the digital brands, the direct-to-consumer brands. But my personal makeup style on myself, and on the people I was making up was changing also; less makeup, more fresh, more skin, healthier.

Bobbi Brown:

I just wanted to have makeup that you could put on that instantly made you look like that. I was always frustrated with some of my artists that couldn’t understand what I wanted. Because it made everybody looked like they had a makeup face. I don’t like a makeup face. So working with chemists and a couple product development people, I created these products that I was like, oh my God, these are amazing, amazing. Where I somehow named things like, we named the pencil the Best Brown Pencil. We named an eyeshadow, the Best Color in the World. I just, I was so enamored and excited. And the Miracle Balm, which is our hero product. It was a happy mistake creating it, and it literally instantly makes everybody look better.

Debbie Millman:

Why was it an accident?

Bobbi Brown:

Because I asked the chemists to create something that I wanted to make. And it came back completely not what I wanted. And instead of saying, ugh, I just tried it. I stuck my hand in it, I put it on, I’m like, oh my God. So I wanted something that was more like a foundation. So it would have been more skin colorish. But it ended up to be this Miracle Balm that you put on your face, that’s a hybrid skincare tinted makeup, that you don’t really even need a foundation when you put it on. Or just need it on parts. And if you did wear foundation, it made your foundation look so much better. And that was the first product that we said we could launch a company with just this product.

Debbie Millman:

Is it true that the Miracle Balm has a wait list of 20,000 people?

Bobbi Brown:

It did, it did because we didn’t know how popular it was going to be. So we launched on the day my non-compete was up, one week prior to the presidential election in the middle of a pandemic, where I did the Today Show on my Zoom, with basically a blazer on top and shorts on the bottom. Then I did a Wall Street journal and then I did Elvis Duran. So I hit three different medias from my office. And that’s how I launched it.

Debbie Millman:

Incredible.

Bobbi Brown:

I didn’t know and realize number one, how interested people were that I was back. And how much they’d love the product. So we thought we’d have enough for six months, and we sold out of two of the colors in three weeks. So there was a huge wait list. And then the coolest thing happened. Someone called me and said, “Oh my God, we just found 2500 dusty rose Miracle Balms in the warehouse. But we have no boxes, I’m going to order boxes.” I said, “You’re not going to order boxes, I’m not waiting a month. Go to the store, get me white sandwich bags, get some neon tape and bring it to me.” And we printed the ingredients on a card put it in the bag and taped the bag with one little neon stripe. And we sold 2500 that day, just like that.

Debbie Millman:

So tell us the origin story of the bag that you created that kind of looks like a lunch bag, that you stored Jones Road in. Because when I got my products, they came in a little bag with a little white snap button, which was really charming. Where did that come from?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, we did not want to put anything in plastic, we did not want to use those little packing things that are environmentally bad. And we wanted to keep everything you know indie, low-cost, simple. And we just found a company that had this fabric. You’re a brander, I love creating the logo, I love creating the feel. I love how the logo looks on the packaging. And I believe that everything sends a message.

Bobbi Brown:

So the bag it goes in, the box it goes in, the note, every little thing matters. The paperclip matters. So of course I worried it wrinkled a little bit, but you know what? It’s supposed to wrinkle a little bit.

Debbie Millman:

It’s like linen.

Bobbi Brown:

It is.

Debbie Millman:

It looks better that way.

Bobbi Brown:

Yeah, exactly. So we have since launched almost every month, a new product category.

Debbie Millman:

Who did the identity for you?

Bobbi Brown:

Me.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, good.

Bobbi Brown:

Honestly, well, not me, because I don’t know graphic design. We had hired a few different people and I ended up finding a graphic designer who ended up going to high school with my youngest child, she was one year out of school. And she joined freelance and everything she did, I fell in love with. So I have this kid Aaron, who does everything for me, and we work really closely together. And for me, like, Bobbi, what do you like? I love that, oh my God, I love that. And Aaron, why don’t you try to do this, this way? Because you know, I have this vision, but I don’t have the skills to actually bring my vision to life. So Aaron has been a big supporter and big help.

Debbie Millman:

Bobbi, I have one last question for you. But then I have three sort of rapid fire beady questions I want to ask you.

Bobbi Brown:

Sure.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, wait, I actually have two last questions. I read that you wanted to have a hashtag for the brand called, how not to look like shit.

Bobbi Brown:

Well, we actually have a hashtag because, I might be the only one using it, #hownottolooklikeshit. Because I also realized that’s truly why people wear makeup. I don’t think people that want to look alluring and sexy are necessarily going to be a fan of Jones Road. But I’m going to attract the women that just want to look better with makeup. So yes, #hownottolooklikeshit.

Debbie Millman:

How can people buy the new line? Where can they find you?

Bobbi Brown:

We are only direct-to-consumer. We have Jonesroadbeauty.com. You can also buy off the Instagram. We are available, I don’t know how they got it, but at the George Hotel in Montclair, we have a little pop-up that has some of the products. That’s my hotel, that’s how they got it. And we’re opening a freestanding store in Montclair in September-ish/October, that will be our first freestanding store. We are not in any retail. We’ll be doing our first pop-up at Goop in Sag Harbor this summer, and working on our second one. So we’re not doing traditional sales, which I’m pretty psyched about, at the moment.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, that’s great. Really great. Okay, three quick beauty questions, you okay with that?

Bobbi Brown:

Yeah, I’m good-

Debbie Millman:

I think everyone that listens to the podcast that loves makeup, would be mad at me if I didn’t. So I’m doing it for my listeners. All right, number one. What’s the best way to tell if a makeup shade is right for your skin?

Bobbi Brown:

Honestly, the only way is to look in the mirror and if you like the way it looks, it’s the right color. Okay, that’s the general question. But then there’s rules like foundation should blend into your skin, to know it’s the right color. Blush should be the color of your cheeks when you pinch them. Some of those things are just little you know hacks to help you find the right color.

Debbie Millman:

When you’re putting on foundation, do you use your fingers or a sponge?

Bobbi Brown:

Or a brush, any of that works? I don’t even use foundation, I use our face pencils. Because you don’t really need foundation everywhere, you just need to even out redness, dark spots and anything else that pops up on your face.

Debbie Millman:

What is one makeup routine most women get wrong?

Bobbi Brown:

Definitely picking a foundation. I honestly, I find that most foundations out in the world don’t allow your face to look like skin. It looks like you’ve got a foundation on. I personally don’t like it.

Debbie Millman:

Last one, what’s one makeup tip you wish every person who wears makeup knew?

Bobbi Brown:

Concealer, something to lighten under your eyes makes you look not tired. I think that’s really important. And a lot of women skip that, because they don’t know how to look for the right one. And for me, my number one thing is blush. If I do nothing else, and I’m lucky, because I wear glasses, so I can get away with looking tired. But if I wear blush, I look better. And by the way, whatever makeup you have, whether it’s an eyeshadow or a blush, you could use it on more than one thing. You could make any of your products multipurpose products, there’s no rules.

Debbie Millman:

Bobbi Brown, thank you so much for making so many people feel more beautiful or not feel like shit. And thank you, thank you for joining me today on Design Matters.

Bobbi Brown:

My pleasure, I’ve been looking forward to this. Thank you so much.

Debbie Millman:

Thank you. You can find out more about Bobbi at her website, justBOBBI.com. And you can learn a lot more about makeup from any one of her nine wonderful books. This is the 17th year we’ve been podcasting Design Matters, and I’d like to thank you for listening. And remember, we can talk about making a difference, we can make a difference, or we can do both. I’m Debbie Millman, and I look forward to talking with you again soon.

The post Best of Design Matters: Bobbi Brown appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Debbie Millman:
If the pandemic has done anything positive, it’s allowed some people to rethink their work lives and ask, “What do we really want to be doing? What truly brings us a sense of pleasure and accomplishment?” For those of us on that journey, Jonathan Fields has a way to help us think about these questions. It’s outlined in his new book, Sparked: Discover Your Unique Imprint for Work That Makes You Come Alive. Jonathan Fields is the author of several books about professional and personal growth. And he’s the founder of The Good Life Project, which is also the name of his podcast. Jonathan Fields, welcome back to Design Matters.

Jonathan Fields:
It is so good to be back here with you in conversation, Debbie.

Debbie Millman:
Thank you. Thank you. Last time we did this, we were together in the studio I’m sitting in right now. And unfortunately, we’re a little bit further apart.

Jonathan Fields:
Exactly.

Debbie Millman:
So, our interview today is actually, as I’m mentioning, the second time that you’ve been on Design Matters. So I actually want to start today’s interview by asking you about something I seem to have missed completely in our first interview, which I’ve subsequently regretted ever since. So now nine years later, I get to ask you about the great 12-day Cool Whip experiment. Can you please tell our listeners what that was, and what on earth provoked you to do it?

Jonathan Fields:
Oh, wow. So when our daughter was a little, little kid, we were talking to her about food and different types of food, and natural food and food that was created in laboratories and how you can tell the difference. And she loves whipped cream, or loved whipped cream back when. She was probably 5 or 6 years old back then. And we thought it’d be fun to do this experiment one day. So we took two little glass ramekins, and we made fresh whipped cream in one and we put it in it. And then we got, I think, Cool Whip, and we scooped out an equal amount of Cool Whip on the other. And we just left them out, side by side, for 12 days. And it was this visual test of what would happen, nature versus science or laboratory.

Within a matter of about a half an hour, the actual whipped cream had just dissolved into a puddle. Twelve days later, the Cool Whip looked identical to the moment that we put it into the bowl, and we hadn’t touched it at all. On that day I was looking at it, and I took the little ramekin in my hand. I turned it upside down. Nothing happened. It stayed in it. And then I touched it, and it was rock solid.

So we got a pen and drew a little smiley face on it, and that was one of the first-ever blog posts that I put up, and it was just like a fun experiment. My recollection is that that post, probably much to the unhappiness of the people who created Cool Whip, ranked on the first page of search for Cool Whip for years.

Debbie Millman:
Well, I did have to go back to the Wayback Machine to find it. But I’m sure that our listeners can dig it up pretty easily. The pictures are quite extraordinary. And when I was looking at it, I thought, Well, there’s the origins of the visual proof of Jonathan’s Sparketype, and we’re going to talk about that, but I really did think that that Maker and Scientist combo was very appropriate in terms of how you’ve now designated the various parts of your personality. So, our interview today is going to be a little bit different from my usual interviews, in that we don’t really need to go back and do the deep dive into your origin story. But I’d still like to review a little bit of the highlights for our listeners that might not have heard that first episode from nearly a decade ago. Are you OK with that?

Jonathan Fields:
Absolutely.

Debbie Millman:
Oh, good. So you grew up in a suburb of New York in a town called Port Washington. And this is also something new that I learned in researching you for this episode. Your town was known as the East Egg from The Great Gatsby, which is a beautiful little water town, and your mom was a serious craftsperson and a potter. She, I think, gave you a little old wooden set of paints, which was your grandfather’s, or maybe you found it in your attic. And that’s when you first fell in love with painting. So, talk a little bit about the kinds of things you were painting back then as a little boy in East Egg, Long Island.

Jonathan Fields:
Yeah. So, it’s funny because the mansion that the legend is there was one mansion at the top of the egg that was the shape of our town, that The Great Gatsby was based on also, which is this stunning, stunning estate on the water. But yeah, I grew up in a family where the home was just very bohemian artisan. My mom lived that life. She embodied it with everything in her and brought me into just the creative Jones, the creative impulse really, really early in life, and recognized it in me at the same time and said, “that’s something, let’s feed it in some way.” So, the painting side of it probably came a little bit later.

My recollection is my grandpa passed, and in cleaning out all of his stuff … and he was a very successful trial lawyer. He was a litigator. He was the type of person where every hair was quaffed perfectly. He had his nails manicured with clear nail polish, always a beautiful suit. And in looking at all of his old stuff, we come upon this old wooden box with a latch on the front of it. Pop open the latch, and inside is this paint set. It’s oil paints and acrylic paints and brushes and wood pallets, and I was like, “Did anyone know he was a painter?” And, raised eyebrows—nobody really knew.

So my mom gave that to me, part of my inheritance, and her pottery studio was in the basement of our house. And it was this magical world of of kilns and giant wheels, and jars and jars and jars of chemicals that she would make glazes out of. But in the corner, there was a little space, and I took a bunch of clay boxes—50-pound boxes of clay. And I then took an old door and threw them on top of it. I got an old swing-arm lamp that we had and bolted it on, and taught myself how to paint, and that was … I just, I lost time doing that. I mean, you know that feeling.

Debbie Millman:
Yeah.

Jonathan Fields:
Almost everybody, I’m sure, listening to this knows that feeling. And for me, this was back in the day where some of the best art on the planet was album covers. It was amazing stuff. I mean, I remember trying to get as close as humanly possible to the actual album cover knowing absolutely nothing about paint, yet teaching myself, and I threw out so many canvases because I was a bit of a perfectionist. And if I was off by one line, I felt like it was just a disaster, and I would junk it and start over. But eventually I got pretty good. So I started making album covers on jean jackets, and that earned me my walking-around money in high school. My favorite of all time was Molly Hatchet, Flirtin’ with Disaster. I think it was Frazetta who did this just wild, wild intensely vivid. It looked like it was bursting off of the cover. It probably took me a couple of months to do that one. But I was so proud of it. I often wonder what happened to all those jean jackets, and I wish I had saved one.

Debbie Millman:
I wish you had, too. I was sure you were going to say your favorite was the Boston album cover?

Jonathan Fields:
That was pretty amazing, too, actually. It was probably between the two of them. The classic upside-down spaceship was pretty awesome.

Debbie Millman:
I kind of wish you had it so we can show it to Paula Scher.

Jonathan Fields:
Right.

Debbie Millman:
Well, you’ve been an entrepreneur then pretty much your entire life. In addition to selling jean jackets, you also were a self-described “lemonade stand kid.” You worked as a DJ through college but not only as a DJ, you worked building a DJ company. So, here’s the big disconnect for me, and something that I know we touched on in our first interview, but I want to go a little bit deeper. What made you decide to go to law school and become a big-time attorney for the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission with this kind of arts and crafts, nearly hippie-esque upbringing?

Jonathan Fields:
Short answer, money, and not the right reason in any way, shape or form. It was those who knew me at the time I made that decision really looked at me and said, “Wait, what? This is what you’re doing?” But it was a little bit more than that, actually. I basically never went to class in undergrad. I was building this DJ and mobile lighting and music company the whole time there. So I was out Thursday to Saturday night to 4 a.m. DJing and moving stacks and speakers and equipment, and developing the art because it’s a real artform, which I love to this day. And I barely ever attended class. And when I graduated with a horrible grade point average, by the way, I was kicking around a couple of different jobs outside sales jobs.

I remember driving my car to a building, taking the elevator to the top floor and knocking on doors of small businesses where my required role was, “hi, I’m here to see the president to talk about your long-distance telephone service.” When I finally made the decision to go to law school a couple years after that, it was in no small part because I got really curious about what I was really capable of intellectually. I knew I had a Jones for building businesses and being a maker. But I also knew that I really slacked off in terms of really pushing myself in college, and I was really curious, and I was looking for a way to test that and see what I could do.

And then at the same time, develop skills that I knew would equip me to do anything in life. So, I figured if I went, it would make me a better analyzer of ideas and arguments, it would teach me how to write, and it would teach me how to speak. It definitely helped with the first, and I love the fact that I don’t have to write in any way resembling what I was taught to write as a lawyer now for the rest of my life. But it also taught me how to speak and understand arguments. And I knew at the end of the day, also, I was a kid who, money mattered to me. It was a symbol of status, a symbol of prestige, a symbol of accomplishment.

So, I got to law school, and I worked ridiculously hard. I was very fortunate, graduated pretty close to the top of my class, and then had an opportunity presented to me that started me out at the SEC, big federal government agency, and then landed me in one of the biggest firms in the world working in New York, relentless hours, and ending up in a place where my body effectively shut down. But it was a strange decision for me. But I think also, having grown up in a family where it was fairly bohemian … my dad had one job his whole life. He’s a research professor. And we grew up in a town that was actually, there was a lot of money in the town. And I never felt overtly that we were the poor family in town because we weren’t. We were sort of like middle class. But I was always surrounded by people who had more and could do more because of that. And it did something to me that it took me probably decades into life to really unwind.

Debbie Millman:
After working at the U.S. Securities Commission, you then went on to become a private equity lawyer where you raised and launched more than $1 billion in private equity funds. And you’ve said that you were fascinated with the psychology of how markets move. Has that influenced you the way you think about marketing now?

Jonathan Fields:
Oh, 100%. One of the things you learn really quickly in the world of finance and the markets of financial markets is markets don’t move based on the fact, they move based on people’s perception of fact, which is marketing, right? It’s all about human psychology. It’s you in the world of branding. This is what you’ve lived for so much. There’s the product, there’s the thing itself, and then there’s what wraps around the thing itself that creates the perception of the thing. So I’ve been fascinated by that. And I think my interest in the markets early on was really it was a bit of a red herring. My real fascination was human behavior. Why do we do the weird things that we do? And how do we craft experiences and language that might somehow move people to go a little bit here or go a little bit there? It’s a big part of why I’ve loved entrepreneurship, because it’s not just figuring out the problem of business. It’s figuring out the much more wicked problem of people.

Debbie Millman:
You said that when you’re surrounded by that much money all the time, and the stakes are so high, you get a really warped sensibility about the value of money and the value of life. Did they become intertwined for you at that point?

Jonathan Fields:
Yeah, there’s a … I probably lost myself in that for a short window. It was a pretty short window because my body effectively jettisoned me from the career pretty quickly. It’s very easy to get caught up in that swirl. I mean, I literally remember we were closing a deal, and there was an investor who had said that they were committing $25 million to this raise, and we were closing that evening. We found out that this person was about to get on a plane out at the airport, and we had to make a decision whether just to send me in a car over to the airport to go get his signature on a piece of paper that would lock in another $25 million. And somebody in the room was kind of like, “It’s really not worth it for that.” And you’re like, “Wait, wait, what?”

Debbie Millman:
Wow.

Jonathan Fields:
It’s just you really do. When you live in that world, I think it’s—at least for me, maybe other people find it much more easy to tether themselves to truth and reality—the fact that this is not the world, but only this one bizarre representation of a world. It’s very easy to lose sight. And I think for a short window, I probably did.

Debbie Millman:
And then your body gave up on you. And then you gave up on this career, you quit. You went from making billions of dollars and raising billions of dollars in private equity funds to making $12 an hour as a personal trainer. So, tell us about that trajectory.

Jonathan Fields:
Yeah, that was a bigger hit to my ego than anything else.

Debbie Millman:
But it seems like that’s what you sought out doing. It’s not like that was the last thing you could do. You went and actively looked for a job as a personal trainer.

Jonathan Fields:
100% true. And at the same time, I knew that even in the short time that I was in law, which is about five years or so, I had built a big chunk of my identity around being that person. So, when I go from that being able to show a particular business card and wear a particular thing, and there are certain assumptions that are made, to then exiting not just that job, but the entire industry, deciding I want to go back into entrepreneurship and the world of fitness and wellbeing. And I want to start at the ground up to really understand what was the dynamic from the most basic point of service.

I talked my way into a job as a personal trainer making 12 bucks an hour. And on the one hand, I was thrilled I was getting paid anything to learn an entirely new industry. This was a reeducation for me. And on the other hand, there was still something in me that that was struggling to let go of the fact that, “Dear God, what if one of my old clients walks by me and sees me stretching out a client in Central Park wearing my tights and running shoes and a ratty old T-shirt? What are they going to think?” Oh, the guy couldn’t hack it. Look what he’s had to do now. And it took a while for me to just really unwind that grasping at a certain identity and set of assumptions and say, “No, actually, it’s OK. I’m really good with this next journey that I’m going on.” But it wasn’t an instant thing.

Debbie Millman:
That’s a really hard one. I ended up quitting a job that I had right when I first started working out of college and had gone from working at a magazine, which I loved, to going to work at a real estate marketing company for twice the money and a car. And I hated every single day of it. Every single day, I cried every day, and knew that I had made this decision based on money. And when I quit, I ended up getting a job at Integral Yoga Health Food Store as a cashier, and I remember always being somewhat terrified that somebody was going to walk in and say, “Hey, are you that girl from the marketing agency? Why are you behind the cash register in a health food store?” No one ever did, so all that worry for nothing.

Jonathan Fields:
Don’t you wonder sometimes how many people have not risked stepping out and trying something entirely different just because of that fear of being socially judged by people who they want to be seen a certain way in their eyes?

Debbie Millman:
Oh, yeah. I mean, I still worry about that. I mean, that’s part of why I didn’t come out until I was 50. Just the fear and my own inner homophobia, how would I be judged? What would people think? I mean, I’ve spent most of my life primarily worried about that, but working on it, still working on it. This is about you, not me, so I want to continue talking about you. You ran a yoga studio for a while. And then very typical Jonathan Fields style, you sold it. You are just at heart an entrepreneur. And you sold it to pursue your own business, which is now called The Good Life Project, where you create media, you create tools, programs, experiences, podcasts, that help people live better lives. And so this is a super basic question, but I’m really curious about the answer. What does living a better life mean to you?

Jonathan Fields:
So, I’ve been asking that question to a lot of people for about a decade now. And I’ve probably been trying to figure it out for two to three decades. And while every person’s answer has been different, there are for sure some common patterns. But what I’ve distilled it down to, for me, is three buckets. Think of your life as three buckets. One is contribution, meaningful work. One is connection, the depth and quality of your relationships. And one is vitality, how you optimize your mind and your body. And to me a good life is really, it’s the ability to first recognize that those three things exist. Two, become aware of how helpful or empty any one of those domains are at any given window in time. And three, make the decision to allocate energy to try and top them all off and keep them topped off for as much as possible.

But that’s sort of like the big-picture model. There’s a mantra that tends to run in my head that I use to make decisions, that I feel like at the end of the day when I lay my head on the pillow will just result in a good life without having a long-term focus. And that is, when I’m looking at an opportunity, or the chance to invest myself in something, I’ll ask myself, “will this give me the opportunity to absorb myself in activities that fill me up while surrounding myself with people I cannot get enough of, and in some way, shape or form, making a difference to people who have no idea this thing is even happening?” If I hold true to that, then at this point I believe the good life side of it is just going to work its way out.

Debbie Millman:
One thing that I read that you’ve written that’s really stayed with me is the notion that a good life is not a place at which you arrive. It’s a lens through which you see and create your world. It reminded me a little bit of something that Seth Godin writes about in regards to happiness and pleasure, that pleasure is something that you always want more of, you can never seem to get enough of. But real happiness is being content with what you currently have. I love that in the context of thinking about what it means to live a good life. And that’s that sort of contentment with what you have. And I’m wondering if you can talk a little bit about how you see that lens of a good life. So, if it’s a lens through which you see and create your world, how do you sharpen that lens?

Jonathan Fields:
Well, part of it is how do you sharpen the lens? But also part of is where do you focus the lens? To me, a lot of emphasis has been on focusing the lens on happiness, and on what people would call capital ‘S’ Success—money, status, power, prestige. And on the former, like you said, happiness is a snapshot. It’s not the movie. It is something that we love to experience, but it’s also not a sustainable state. And research shows now that probably about 50 or so percent of anybody’s happiness is based on a genetic set point at a certain level. And that can be giddy, all day, every day. That can also be like a little bit melancholy.

Now, you can do things in your life to move that. But if the metric that we hold ourselves to is we focus our lens on happiness, and the goal is to be 100% happy all the time, it’s just not possible. And for many of us, the closest we come is when we’re no longer melancholy all the time. And we feel pretty good about that until somebody says that’s actually not good enough. You’re not doing OK, and you can’t stop there. And then all of a sudden we start to judge and shame ourselves, and then we drop back into a bad place. So, happiness, I think, is not necessarily the best place to focus that lens. Nor is money, power, status. I think they’re proxies for agency, and that is the thing that I think is worthy of exploring.

But at the end of the day, I really focus a lot on meaning. I want to shift the lens in the direction of meaning because meaning is the thing that sustains no matter whether you’re happy, whether you’re miserable. No matter whether you have power or control or you don’t. Meaning is the thing that can be derived from pretty much any and every experience, and the experience of meaningfulness is profoundly transformative to your ability to move through each day and say, “You know what, I matter, this mattered. It may not have gone the way I wanted, but because I can derive a sense of meaning I’m going to wake up and do it again the next day and feel OK about the way things are.” Victor Frankl’s classic work on logotherapy. It’s really, to me, that’s where we focus the lens.

In terms of how to sharpen the lens, the thing that comes immediately to me are Eastern practices on developing, cultivating self-awareness. So, I’ve had a mindfulness practice for over a decade now. It’s the thing I do first thing in the morning when I open my eyes. I started it initially because I was pretty much brought to my knees struggling with a health issue. And I needed to try and figure out how to find, how to touchstone until I figured out my way through it. And it’s blossomed out into this thing where a sitting daily practice then starts to grow out and its tentacles reach into just a persistent or semi-persistent state as you move through the day. And you gain the ability to zoom the lens out, and look down on yourself almost and say, “Huh, what am I actually thinking about? Where am I focusing?” And you can zoom the lens into yourself and say, “What’s happening in my inner world right now? What’s happening in the circumstances around me?” And then be intentional about whether you want to keep the lens focus there or not. So the sharpening side to me is about self-awareness.

Debbie Millman:
A lot of your understanding of what it means to live a good life is articulated in your two previous books, your two bestselling books, How To Live a Good Life, and your second book, Uncertainty: Turning Fear and Doubt Into Fuel for Brilliance, which we talked about at length in our last interview. So today, I really wanted to focus on your brand-new book. It’s titled Sparked: Discover Your Unique Imprint for Work That Makes You Come Alive. Firstly, I want to say congratulations. I know you’ve been working on this book for a really long time, and congratulations on bringing it out into the world.

Jonathan Fields:
Thank you. I’m super excited. Yeah, I’m just … so, I’ll share something that’s interesting, and it’ll land in an interesting way with you. This is the first book of four books that I’ve written where I’m actually excited about the physical object of the book itself.

Debbie Millman:
Yeah, it is a beautiful book.

Jonathan Fields:
Thank you. And I was reflecting on why that’s true. And I went immediately back to a conversation that I had on the podcast many years ago with somebody who you had the opportunity to sit down with and become friends with—Milton Glaser. I remembered him saying to me, “The impulse to make and the impulse to create beauty are related but separate impulses.” I had been so focused just on the impulse to make and never really honored the fact that the impulse towards beauty actually really mattered to me as much. I didn’t want to just make stuff. I didn’t want to put things into the world. I want to put things into the world that evoke something both for me and for other people.

As I started to realize that matters, when it came to this book, for the first time I said, “You know what, it needs to be something different. The actual physical object of the book needs to be beautiful in a way that I’ve never paid attention to before.” So we put a lot more energy into doing that, and it all goes back to that moment with Milton where that light bulb went on, and it took me years to actually act on that.

Debbie Millman:
Well, I’m looking at the book now and I see a really pretty spot varnish, beautiful endpapers. You accomplished your goal. Congratulations.

Jonathan Fields:
Thank you. A little secret, I actually designed the cover for the book.

Debbie Millman:
I was wondering about that. Well done. Who knew you had all these secret talents?

Jonathan Fields:
Thank you.

Debbie Millman:
We’re going to have to start talking about design a little bit more in our next interview.

Jonathan Fields:
Maybe.

Debbie Millman:
Jonathan, you start your book with this statement: “Type ‘what should I do’ into Google, and there’s a decent chance it’ll finish your sentence ‘with my life.’” Why are so many people so unsatisfied by what they do?

Jonathan Fields:
That is the question. With so many ideas, so many books, so many offerings, so many solutions, so many potential ways to solve the problem. There are so many people who are still in a state of anywhere from genuine suffering to just what Adam Grant is now calling “languishing.” It’s like, not so bad, not so good. But is that the state that you want to bring through the rest of your life? I think a lot of it has to do with two things. One, the circumstances around you, and that includes circumstances that you may be born into that are incredibly helpful to your ability to thrive and also really layer on a whole lot of constraints and societal limitations that you grapple with. We don’t all step into the planet in equal position.

But the other thing is our inner world. I think it gets back to that notion of self-awareness. I think we try and line up the thing that we want to do in the world with expectations and with values, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing if the expectation and values are helpful to us. But we very rarely do the deeper work and say, “What actually nourishes me? How do I exert myself? How do I wake up in the morning? How do I invest myself? How do I invest my energy in a way that gives me the feeling of meaningfulness, that gives me the feeling of energy and excitement, that gives me the feeling of expressed potential and purpose that lets me lose myself in flow?” We don’t do that work.

There aren’t many classes in universities or colleges or high schools or grad schools that say, “Can we just stop for a second and take some time exploring who you actually are? What matters to you? What fills you up, and what empties you out?” So, how could we ever make decisions about what to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to, especially in the context of work, and have that actually let us show up and have all those feelings we still want to feel if we have no idea what the work is that gives us those feelings in the first place? I think some of us just randomly stumble into it. And then we’re like, “Wow, this is amazing. This is incredible.” And then they have the run at it. And then five years later, yeah, it ends, and they can’t replicate it because they never understood why they felt that way underneath it.

Debbie Millman:
I mean, I think that this book is also helpful for people that suffer from the opposite syndrome, which is to not feel spark or passion about any particular option, and feel stuck and not know which way to go and just feel trapped by that feeling, which is a real dilemma to be in. I’ve been there.

Jonathan Fields:
Yeah, I mean, I think we’ve all been there. I think at different moments in our lives we feel trapped sometimes for different reasons. And some of us may hold a very deep value of financial security. Maybe we came up in a home that was very unstable, or for whatever reason, we enter adulthood, and that becomes this thing where it becomes the solitary driver of effort. And it may actually make you incredibly successful in the field that you’re pursuing and rise up to the top and then you get there. And you look around, you’re like, “Why don’t I feel the way that I wanted to feel?” Not that honoring that value doesn’t matter, but it’s not everything.

Debbie Millman:
Yeah, I know. I mean, certainly it matters. But if it becomes your lead gene, it infiltrates everything. And because that type of lead gene is heavily metabolized very quickly. It’s never enough, never ever enough. And you just keep spinning and spinning and spinning on that hamster wheel trying to accumulate more and metabolizing at nearly the same speed. Your book is fueled by the work you’ve been doing at your company. And the most recent is Spark Endeavors, where you are the chief architect and driving force behind the Sparketypes that you’ve developed. But I believe, and I might be wrong about this, so correct me, please. But I believe the foundation of this work really began in your first book, where you identified your first five primary sparks, which have transitioned and evolved since. But it seems like you’ve been doing this research now for quite some time.

Jonathan Fields:
Yeah. So, the truth is, the foundation for this work actually goes back about 20 years. As we’re having this conversation it’s right around the 20th anniversary of 9/11. You and I were both in New York, and that day, that experience, changed me in a lot of ways. It exists in my DNA, and it will for my entire life. And the experience of knowing somebody who went to work one day and never came home who was young. He was the youngest partner in the firm, at the top of one of the towers with a 2-and-a-half-year-old and a six-month-old kid, married with a new home, and never came home.

That moment really brought home to me the fact that we have one pass through and it really … I believe it planted the seed for me to go deeper into my exploration of not just what it means to live a good life, but how do you invest yourself in a way that makes you come alive? What are the components of that? And I’ve been dancing around it, I’ve been researching and I’ve been asking questions, running experiments, ever since, and the ideas did begin to coalesce in my last book.

But then they took on an entirely different life when I started to ask a slightly different question, which is, “are there a set of identifiable, mappable impulses for effort or for work that give you that feeling of coming alive or of being sparked?” Because if there were, and we could identify them, and then we could build tools to help people figure out what theirs are, maybe it would help people. Maybe it would help get them to that place of understanding faster, and that became my consuming passion over the last five years or so, is to first see if I could identify if these imprints even existed. And then if so, can I build a tool that would both help me research them and at the same time be helpful to other people?

That led to the identification of these 10 impulses. And once I figured out what the impulses were, then I started to realize, wrapped around each one of them were a set of really common patterns of tendencies, and preferences, and behaviors that formed archetypes. And the reason I call them Sparketypes is just a fun way of saying it’s the archetype for work that sparks you. I honestly didn’t know if I would be able to see these if they existed. So it was as much a surprise for me as it was for anyone else. And as I started sharing them with other people, and then we ended up building a tool, an assessment for basically the entire year of 2018 that’s now been validated by more than 500,000 people and 25 million data points. We’re at a point where it’s like, “Huh, OK, there actually is something here.”

Debbie Millman:
You decided to create this framework when other personality type descriptors already exist. What’s different about this methodology?

Jonathan Fields:
Yeah, so I looked at the universe of all these different indexes. And there’s some great ones out there like Myers Briggs, and strength, and DISC, and all these different things. And they all add little pieces to the self-discovery puzzle. What I didn’t see was a tool that was hyper focused on this one question: What is the fundamental nature of work that will give me the feeling of coming alive? So, it’s not about there are two different types of strengths assessment on the market right now. There’s Strengths Finder, which is largely about skills and talents. And there’s the VIA Strengths, which is largely about character. Great tools, but they don’t speak specifically to this one question.

There’s Myers Briggs, there’s the Big Five—really interesting, valuable tools that are much more generalized personality and relational style tests. And I think, again, they add to the puzzle of asking the question, who am I? But this is a very, very, very narrow focus. The focus of the Sparketypes is around work. Whether that’s the thing you get paid for or not is a different question. It’s about what is the thing that wakes you up in the morning and says, “I will work really, really hard for nothing other than the feeling that it gives me. And if I get compensated well for it, awesome. But even if I didn’t, I’m still going to do it because it gives me that feeling. And that feeling is what gets me through life. It’s what lights me up.”

Debbie Millman:
You mentioned that the understanding of these imprints is based on more than 25 million data points from your research. How did you take that data and develop the Sparketypes from what you amassed, the data that you amassed?

Jonathan Fields:
Yeah, so the Sparketypes started out as a hunch, as everything does. And then I started basically looking at lists of jobs and industries and titles and deconstructing all of them and saying, “What’s underneath that? What’s underneath that? What’s underneath that?” So, the early part of it, the early identification that goes from thousands of possibilities down to 10, was really my own internal work, and then showing it to different people, and talking to a lot of citizen-grounded theory research, basically talking to tons and tons of people and trying to code their feedback to me about what was valid and what wasn’t.

The reason we developed the assessment was because we had this core idea, and we had a lot of just early anecdotal validation. But I wanted to know if these are real on a much larger scale. So we built the assessment for two reasons. One, so that we could actually expose large numbers of people to the ideas, and have that help us understand if it’s really valid or not, and then how useful it is. I was open to the fact that it might actually show us that it wasn’t. I had to be. And the other part of it was if in fact this is helpful, then I wanted to know that we were creating something that could then be available to anybody, so that they could have a tool to get these insights pretty quickly. And that was the reason we developed the assessment and released it out into the world.

We’ve done a follow-on survey; it’s still preliminary. We’re actually looking to build a much bigger data set around it, but I’ll share with you in response to asking people how valid and how useful this was. We have 93% of folks telling us that it’s anywhere from very to extremely accurate. And then we wanted to know, what is the relationship between doing the work of your Sparketype, and markers for meaningfulness, for flow, for engagement, for expressed potential, and for purpose. And we’ve got actually really strong statistical correlation with all five of those states, which are the places that we all aspire to be. The sweet spot between those five states is how I define that feeling of coming alive or being sparked.

Debbie Millman:
How did you develop the questions in the first place? And how did you determine how specific answers would lead you to a specific Sparketype?

Jonathan Fields:
Yeah, so the questions were actually the prompts based on those five different markers. And this goes back to my obsession with language, this goes back to the understanding of psychology. What is the thought line in somebody’s head when they’re doing something that makes them feel this way? And then developing prompts around that, and there are ways to do it in a very dry way. The marketer in me, the citizen-human psychologist in me, was always taught to do everything you can to understand the conversation that’s happening in somebody’s head, understand the language that they’re using. And then enter that conversation rather than trying to pose your language, and ask them if it fits.

So a lot of it was tapping this deep obsession with language and psychology to try and figure out, what are those? What are those statements? What are those thoughts? And then link them back to the five different states. So the prompts in the assessment are all related to those different states. And then we’re trying to make them as longitudinal as possible, so that we have people reflecting on throughlines that have been with them for over a long window of time, rather than how they might be feeling just at the moment that they answer the question because we want some level of stability in the answers, we want them to be robust.

Debbie Millman:
How did you originally come up with the 10 Sparketypes, and why 10?

Jonathan Fields:
I honestly wish it wasn’t 10. It feels so slick. It feels so packaged to me. And so, I wish it was 13 or eight or something like that. But literally starting with giant lists of jobs and titles, and then making a list of when you keep asking the question, “what’s underneath that? What are the fundamental ways that you exert effort as part of this?” Making list, list, and list, and list, and list, and then seeing where the overlap was. And then conflating and conflating. “Is this just another way of saying this? Is this another way of saying this?” And then getting to a point where I’m asking the question, “is this a verb? Is this an adjective or an adverb?” Because I’m looking for the verb. “Is this just a way of doing things or is this actually a fundamental expression of an impulse for effort?” So, a lot of trial and error, and a lot of me just trying to figure out what’s real and what’s not, and then eventually exposing it to people, which is always a nerve-wracking experience.

Debbie Millman:
The 10 Sparketypes are, in no particular order, the Maker, the Scientist, the Maven, the Essentialist, the Performer, the Warrior, the Sage, the Advocate, the Advisor, and the Nurturer. So, I’m going to leave it up to you to tell us about a few of those archetypes and give us a little bit more juicy detail on what it means to be one of these Sparketypes.

Jonathan Fields:
So, I could just go down the list, but I’m actually curious about something. Do you know what your profile is?

Debbie Millman:
Yes, I do.

Jonathan Fields:
Were you planning on weaving that in after—

Debbie Millman:
I’m very happy to share. I am … Well, we also need to explain to folks that not only do people have a Sparketype, they also have a Shadow Sparketype. And so, that’s a secondary archetype that is woven into the personality profile, and then also an Anti-Sparketype. So, I will absolutely share all three, but I want to hear what you have to say first.

Jonathan Fields:
So, I’ll share mine. And then I’m curious about yours because that’ll talk about three of them. I have a feeling we may not be too dissimilar. My primary archetype is the Maker.

Debbie Millman:
Yes.

Jonathan Fields:
My fundamental impulse and the impulse for a Maker is to make ideas manifest. It is all about the process of creation. It is a deep, deep impulse to be generative, as much as you possibly can. You have the something from nothing, or a little bit of something to a lot of bit of something impulse has woken me up and driven me to exert effort from as young as I can possibly remember. As a little kid cobbling together bikes from a junkyard, painting jean jackets, building houses, renovating in college, it evolved eventually to building companies, building brands, writing books, building media, building experiences. There are a lot of different things that go into each one of those things. But the impulse for me that allowed me to come alive was the maker impulse behind all of that. Eventually, you bring together teams because you need people to assume all sorts of different roles and have different impulses to really make it work. But for me, that’s the thing that wakes me up in the morning.

My Shadow Sparketype, which you can think of as one of two ways … it’s either your next strongest impulse forever, or it’s kind of like your runner-up, or there tends to be a more nuanced relationship, which is that many people do the work of their Shadow in order to be able to do the work of their primary better. So, my shadow Sparketype is the Scientist. The impulse for the Scientist is all about figuring things out. I look at something and I’m like, “How does that work?”

But what I’ve learned over the years is for me, the fascination is less just about going deep into the burning question or the puzzle or the quandary. I tend to go there when I am in a making process and I hit a wall. And rather than just feeling like “I hit a wall, this is the end of it,” the Maker impulse kicks in and says, “OK, no big deal. It’s still kind of cool. Let me solve this problem. Let me create a whole new thing that lets me get through this moment in time.” And the minute I figure out the answer, I go back to the process of being just hyper generative, and building and making. So, it’s in service of my maker. I like doing it, I’m good at it. But at the end of the day, I don’t do it just for the fun of doing it. I do it because it makes me a better maker.

And then the last part of my profile, the Anti-Sparketype … you can think of the Anti-Sparketype as either your least strong impulse for work, or the thing that takes the most energy, the most effort, the most external motivation if you’re on a team, and tends to empty you out the most and require the greatest amount of recovery. So for me, that is what I call the Essentialist. Now, the Essentialist is all about creating order from chaos. It’s clarity, it is utility, it’s taking big datasets, it’s taking a huge amount of objects and things like this, and somehow organizing them and creating, making them usable and clean and streamlined. That is amazing work, it’s necessary work.

I love the fact that it’s done because that lets me function as a human being, and as an entrepreneur, and as a maker. But when I actually have to do that work, I just want to cry. And, of course, I’ve gotten good at it because when you have to do it, especially in the early stage, for example, of a company, you’re doing everything. So over time, you just learn to become skilled or competent at it. And that makes the experience a little bit better. But at the end of the day, making it a little bit better, and getting it over with faster and getting a little bit of the hit of competence, it still doesn’t make up for the fact that there’s something inside of me where that impulse is the most foreign, it’s the weakest for me, and it just doesn’t come close, and it never will, to the feeling that I get when I’m operating on the other side of my spectrum.

Debbie Millman:
OK, so I will tell you mine now because we’re very, very similar, Jonathan. Not exactly similar, but very. So, my primary Sparketype is the Maker, which I’m not surprised at all. What was really surprising to me was how accurately you described me being a Maker. Just without knowing me, you just describe a Maker, and I’m like, “Wow, that’s really me.” The Shadow Sparketype is the Maven, which is somebody who likes to learn, and I’d love you to talk more about that. And my Shadow Sparketype is also the Essentialist. I hate details. So, talk a little bit if you can a little bit more about the Maven.

Jonathan Fields:
Yeah. And that doesn’t surprise me at all. So, the fundamental impulse for the Maven is learning, it’s knowledge acquisition. You look around and you’re just like, “What can I learn?” So maybe what you learn has great application in all sorts of different ways. And that’s nice, you like that, that’s cool. But if that is your primary impulse, you’re not doing it because it’s going to let you do something else. You’re doing it solely for the feeling that pursuing learning, pursuing knowledge, gives you. So for you, because your Maven is your Shadow Sparketype, it’s something that you probably love doing, you’re really good at. And we know this from 16 years of ridiculous research of every person that you have ever talked to, and the stunning career that you built where you were encyclopedic about literally anything that you devote yourself to.

At the same time, I’ve also seen with you it makes a lot of sense. That knowledge acquisition to you, it really gets harnessed, and it comes out in the context of informing the way that you make, and allowing you to create at an entirely different level rather than just creating in the void based out of your own intuitive feel. Not that that’s a bad thing. But the Maker impulse is really often beautifully informed by the Maven’s quest for knowledge. There is a bit of an interesting dynamic there that can go a touch dark side, which is the Maven’s impulse to know can sometimes be so fierce that it overinforms the Maker. And then you end up getting a little too far down the road of replication instead of creation. Because you know so much about what everyone else is doing, what’s come before you, the paradigms, the histories, and everything, that it can sometimes be a little bit hard to get that out of your head and allow yourself to step out into the abyss of a place that you really don’t know and is genuinely new and uncomfortable. I’m wondering if that resonates.

Debbie Millman:
Oh, I was wondering if you were reading my diaries. That’s really spooky. One thing that I was really struck by was your caution about the quirks of any of the archetypes. So, the three quirks of the Maker are boredom with systems and scale, disconnection from output, disconnection from impact. And so for our listeners, I’m going to be very vulnerable here and say that I am … well, this part isn’t so much the vulnerable part, I am very much a Maker. I am happiest in my life when I’m making something. It could be a podcast, a lesson plan, a meal. I just love making things. Particularly, making things from scratch.

However, I tend not to like to replicate or repeat the experience of making something. So, for example, one thing that is always surprising to people, and this is the vulnerable part, is that I don’t like to listen to my podcasts once they’re up and out. I don’t like the sound of my own voice. I don’t like to revisit. I don’t like to then be in a position where I’m critiquing what I’ve already done and made and put out there and then feeling really self-conscious about it. So I’ve found that I am much better off not listening, and just hoping and praying that Curtis, my producer, is putting out the best possible podcast he can from what we’ve made together. So, there’s that. And then in terms of the disconnection from our impact, and this is something I think a lot of people really suffer from—and that is feeling like what you make doesn’t matter. And no matter how hard you try, or no matter how much you work at getting better, you don’t really feel it. So there you have it, Jonathan. Help me.

Jonathan Fields:
So, a lot of that. So the one really interesting thing, and probably the single biggest thing that can make people feel OK if they’re feeling that and they have this Maker impulse, is the understanding that actually there’s nothing wrong with you. These are just quirks of the way that you’re wired. You’re not a sociopath. You’re not disconnected from other people. It’s not that you don’t care about them, or what the work does. It’s that for you, the Maker is an incredibly process-satisfied impulse. Whereas all of these 10 lie on a spectrum between being process-satisfied and service-satisfied.

The Maker happens to be very far over on the process-satisfied part, meaning it is the very act of creation that is the most satisfying for you. Now, the thing that you make could go out into the world and make a huge difference for a lot of people. You could get a ton of feedback, saying it’s incredible, and you like that. It makes you feel good. You love the fact that something that you’ve made is going out and making a difference in people’s lives. And at the end of the day, it’s also not the reason you do it. Society tells you that that’s actually not OK. Society tells you that the only valid way to have purpose in your life is if you devote yourself to a life where the preeminent driver is service to others.

And for Makers, and for a couple of others that are much more heavily process-satisfied impulses, that very often causes this underlying fabric of shame. Because you’re not measuring up to that proclamation even though you actually are completely satisfied and you love what you do. And you know that work you’re doing actually is making a difference in people’s lives. So, we’re getting comfortable with the fact that this is just really the way that I’m wired. The work that I’m doing is in fact probably making a difference, it’s moving others. And I would still do it even if it wasn’t because I loved the process. That doesn’t make you a bad person. You’re just wired in this way where that’s the thing that gets you up in the morning.

Debbie Millman:
One thing that really struck me about one of the aspects of the Maker is that you write that it tends to reveal itself early in life and without much effort. And I’m wondering if you can talk a little bit about how and why that is. I suspect quite a lot of people that listen to Design Matters are also Makers. So, I think it’d be really helpful for them to know more.

Jonathan Fields:
Yeah, I imagine you’re right. So, the Maker does tend to reveal itself. People often ask me, “is this a nature or nurture thing? Is it ordained by some spiritual being? Is it genetic? Is it environmental?” My answer is, I have no idea. But my experience, anecdotally, through a lot, a lot of people now in a pretty big data set, is that we all tend to have these impulses very, very, very, very early in life, but they reveal themselves at different rates. So the Maker tends to show up really early in life because we’re given opportunities to express it from the earliest age, and then we’re rewarded when we express an interest in it and then proficiency at it.

So, think about when you’re a little kid—how is a parent going to keep you occupied? They’re going to give you a set of finger paints or crayons, or they’re going to give you blocks so you can build something. Part of the way that you’re taught to actually teach a kid to learn manual dexterity, and also just keep them occupied, is through the process of making, through the process of creation. Then when you go to school, part of the learning process of almost any subject—it doesn’t matter what it is—many teachers will weave in making experiences. So, you’re in second grade and you’re studying science. And the teacher is going to say, “OK, the homework today is to make a diorama.” Right?

So we get exposed to this process. And then if we do it, parents love to see us doing it. And as a parent, it keeps you busy, too, which is always good. And then when you show up and you’re actually creating something, and people say, “Oh, that’s awesome, that’s great, you should keep doing more of that,” we get rewarded at a very early age. So it tends to be not just socially acceptable, but socially encouraged, and we’re given the opportunity to express it at the earliest days in life. Whereas other impulses, it’s actually the exact opposite. You may have that impulse. But you may socially feel like it’s being repressed until later in life because people may think it’s not an appropriate thing to be doing at a young age.

One of the Sparketypes that we haven’t talked about is the Advisor. And the impulse for the Advisor is to guide through a process of growth. This is the advisor, the mentor, the coach, the people who play that role. You’re creating a container of safety and trust, and then moving people through your knowledge of ideas and frameworks, through a process of discovery, growth and evolution. You may have that impulse from the earliest days. But you also may not have the wisdom, the frameworks and the insights to do it in a healthy way. And if 7-year-old you shows up and tries to play that role for other people, you’re probably going to get rejected both by the adults around you, and potentially by the other 7-year-olds, who think that you’re just trying to take over and be bossy. So it’s really interesting how they tend to reveal themselves based on cultural expectations at different rates.

Debbie Millman:
Talk about a few of the other Sparketypes, because I’ve read them all, and I’m so fascinated by them, but some of them feel really foreign to me—the Warrior, the person who is driven to organize and lead people. The Performer, who is a person who enlivens any interaction. Talk about some of those.

Jonathan Fields:
Yeah, so the Warrior, as you said, the fundamental impulse there is to gather, organize and lead. There’s something inside of you that says, “OK, I want to bring people together, and we’re going to go from Point A to Point B.” Very often that impulse comes from you being one of those people. So very often, you’re among the group that you want to actually then help navigate from Point A to Point B. That shows up very often early in life as well. So you’re the kid on the playground who’s bringing all the kids together and saying, “Hey, let’s go on an adventure or let’s go do this thing.”

As you grow up, very often it shows up as you being a captain of a team or leading a club or being student president. But it may not show up in those roles, but it may show up in all sorts of other ways in your family. I talked to one woman who is now a member of the executive leadership team at a giant global consulting firm, and even as a young a kid she was the one who was organizing all the family members. She was the youngest of all of her siblings, yet she would bring everyone together, figure out the trips they were going to go on, figure out the adventures they were going to go on. Whatever it was, she was the one where she just had this impulse to gather, organize and lead for no other reason than the fact that there was something in her that said, “I love doing this, it gives me the feeling of being alive.” So, that’s the Warrior.

The Performer, which it appears from the early data now that that may be the single-most prevalent Anti-Sparketype, is all about the impulse to energize, enliven or animate an experience, interaction or a moment. That tends to show up early in life in a lot of kids. But if the parents see it, they’ll usually channel it into performing arts, which is wonderful when you’re younger. But then at some point, a lot of times, a parent will then say, “Huh, the kid is latching onto that a little bit too much, and I’m freaked out about them wanting to make that their career. So let’s just pretend it’s not actually the central thing that matters to them.” And they’ll start to shun it. And they’ll recommend stifling it and push them in a different direction. So the performer is very often a very repressed impulse in a lot of people. It’s unfortunate because that very impulse shows up and can be expressed in so many different ways in a sales conversation, as a parent, in a group leader, at a board meeting, behind a bar. There are so many different ways to channel that to do incredibly good, and fun, and exciting work.

Debbie Millman:
Well, let’s hope that anybody listening that has children that are blooming in that archetype, Sparketype, encourages it, and helps it bloom. You mentioned a woman that you were referring to that you had written about in the book—how did you choose which people and case studies to focus on in the book? They’re so fascinating.

Jonathan Fields:
Part of it was trying to source really compelling stories that showed clearly these impulses. But part of it also was it was important to me in selecting the stories to tell a very diverse set of stories. So, it was important to me to tell a set of stories that represented all ages, all races, all gender identifications, all sexual orientations. And so when we looked at the stories that we were telling, I wanted this to be a book where when people read what’s in any given chapter, that they’re able to feel seen. And if we’re really homogenous in the way that we’re actually selecting the stories and the case studies, not only is that going to exclude people from it, it’s just not right. It was never the right way to be in the world as a writer. It’s something that I’m probably guilty of being way too ignorant of the need to really be expensive in understanding, how are we telling the different stories and showing broad representation in the work that I’ve been doing in the past? And for me I think I’m becoming much more aware of my responsibility to make sure that I really invest in that, because as a human being, it’s just the right thing to do. So that was a big part of the way that we did it as well.

Debbie Millman:
Yeah, thank you for that. It is clear that you’ve done that, and that work is really important. Jonathan, I have one last thing I want to ask you about. And it’s something that you write about in the last chapter of your book. You state that reimagining and realigning your current work in a way that makes you come alive lets you get more of what you need without feeling the need to blow anything up. You also caution at the beginning of the book for readers to be aware of behaving in an overly disruptive way. I think this book has the ability to get people really excited, and then want to just make the change from that moment on. How do you recommend people approach change in their lives?

Jonathan Fields:
Yeah, I love this question, and you’re right there. When we figure out something or learn something really new that is deeply resonant, and we’re like, “Oh, this is right,” very often the next thing that we do is we look out at what we’re doing—in this case, the work that we’re doing—and if it feels horribly aligned with this thing that we now know is really important to us, we just say to ourselves, “Oh, well, I just need to extract myself from the situation immediately.” If you’re 18 years old and the stakes are really, really low and you don’t have a lot invested in it, it’s probably not a big deal.

I’m 55, I’ve got a family, I want to live a certain life. I want to be able to devote myself in certain ways, and financial security is a value that I hold dear. I want to make sure that I’m providing as much as I can a lot of ways for my family. So for me, if I decide, “oh, I’m just going to blow it all up,” that causes a huge amount of disruption and pain. And we tend to underestimate the pain of that disruption that will cause both on us and also those that look to us for some sense of security. And we overestimate how giddy we’ll feel when we blow it all up and then get the chance to move to the next thing. And we tend to be a little bit delusional about how long the process might take to figure out that next thing.

So, one of my big concerns right now, actually—we’re having this conversation where a lot of people are kicking around this phrase, “the great resignation.” We’re in a moment where, society-wide, people are asking the big existential questions, and they’re realizing the bargain that they made to get them to this place is not the bargain that they want to continue to make moving forward. So, there’s a lot of people resigning from jobs, many of them without knowing what the next step is. My big concern with that is that if you do that before actually doing the inner work to understand “what is the impulse for work that makes me come alive?” And then look at the work that you’re doing and say, “How can I make this as good as it possibly can be now? What are all the different ways that I may be able to reimagine or reorient the work that I’m doing maybe even outside of my job description, but there are opportunities within the place that I’m at to actually express this thing, to just really make it as good as it can be? How can I do that first, and maybe that actually gets me a lot closer there.”

If we’re not doing that work first, and then we just jettison ourselves from the place we are and we look for something else that just feels different enough without understanding why we’re actually saying “yes” to that new thing … there’s a really good chance we’re going to find ourselves, 18 months from now, sitting in an office with different paint on the walls, and new boss, a new team, a new product, a new brand, a new service, feeling the exact same way. And that’s a huge concern for me.

So I really strongly recommend, first do the inner work, then do the work of optimizing the thing that you’re doing now to allow that to come out as much as humanly possible. Very often, that gets you so much closer to the feeling that you want, that you’re actually pretty cool staying, and then you don’t have to go through the disruption and the pain of the big change. And even if it doesn’t, then look for all sorts of opportunities to do it on the side. Whether it’s a hobby, or devotion, or a passion, or an activity that you do because that can then blend with a much more Spark-optimized job to give you what you need.

If you get all the way there and you’re still not getting it, then at that point you start to do the exploration of, “OK, so maybe I have to do something more disruptive.” But if you do, you’re leaving that current thing not from a place of dejection and ignorance, but from a place of information and agency. And also, chances are, psychologically you will be in a much more emboldened and alive place.

Debbie Millman:
Jonathan Fields, thank you so much for putting so much good work into the world, and thank you for joining me today on Design Matters.

Jonathan Fields:
Thanks so much for having me. It’s been great.

Debbie Millman:
To find out more about Spark and about Jonathan Fields, go to his website, jonathanfields.com, or take the free Sparketype test free—free—at sparketype.com. This is the 17th year we’ve been podcasting Design Matters, and I’d like to thank you for listening. Remember, we can talk about making a difference, we can make a difference, or we can do both. I’m Debbie Millman, and I look forward to talking with you again soon.

The post Design Matters: Jonathan Fields appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Debbie Millman:

Seth Godin chose an unusual title for his latest book. It’s called The Practice. The subtitle is even more enigmatic—it is Shipping Creative Work. Seth’s new book is about the practice of creativity and the process of doing creative work. But shipping? How do you ship creative work? Well, lucky for us, Seth Godin is here to tell us about his title and his book, and about unlocking our creative energies by learning to trust ourselves. It’s his 20th book. And for Seth Godin’s many fans in the creative world, myself included, this is something of an event. Seth Godin, welcome back to Design Matters.

Seth Godin:

I have lost the ability to speak, and I have chills. I have chills. It’s good to see you, Debbie.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, thank you, thank you. Seth, this is our third interview, but this is the first one where I’m not sitting next to you talking side by side. So, I’m going to start my interview with a question I’ve been asking a lot of people via Zoom these days: How are you doing during these strange and surreal times?

Seth Godin:

Compared to most people, I’m doing very well. I’m so lucky, so many breaks, my family’s doing well. One of the challenges so many of us have is that life is always uneven, and usually, when you’re in a slog, there’s someone around you you can look to, who’s not. But this is universal, and it’s been a slog. I don’t think many people are going to miss 2020, but it’s also been a chance to decide what’s important, and to lean harder into that stuff.

Debbie Millman:

How has this changed what you think of as important? Or has it?

Seth Godin:

Well, I’ve slept in the same bed every night since March 7, which is the first time I’ve done that for seven months in a row since I was 7 years old. I’ve really tried hard to focus on the work that only I can do, that I do in an idiosyncratic way, that gives me fuel, as opposed to keeping the plates spinning just cause they were spinning. And I miss being with people a great deal, but that means I treasure the interactions I have with people like you in this moment even more.

Debbie Millman:

Listeners of my show know that I like to take a long journey into a person’s life in a sort of classic Design Matters interview. And we’ve done that twice now in our previous interviews in 2014 and 2017. This time, I get the great, good fortune of a deep dive into your brand-new book. And the book is so good, and I’ve told you this already, but I’m going to say it again for my listeners, that it’s pretty much all I want to talk about. I highlighted and noted so many topics in this book. I, for the first time ever in my life, surpassed the amount the Kindle lets you export. So, it’s the first time in the history of the show and history of my life that I’ve had to do that. I had to buy two Kindle copies from two different accounts so that I could highlight and take notes on everything I needed. I think that I highlighted about 23% of the book.

Seth Godin:

I am so moved by this. You’re a hoot.

Debbie Millman:

I am a hoot. I even talked about this book on another podcast that I did earlier in the week. So, as I mentioned in my introduction, your new book is titled The Practice: Shipping Creative Work. Before we talk about the title and the topics, let’s talk about the number—book No. 20. Wow, that’s a lot of books.

Seth Godin:

If you keep showing up, sooner or later … I mean, I certainly didn’t set out to do it. I used to be in the business of making books. I’m not anymore. I make a book if I have no choice. It is hardly a profession, it is something that we do when we can’t get rid of an idea, and where we think it’s going to be generous. But it takes a year of your life, whereas a blog post takes a couple of days. And it’s a lot of pushing things uphill, so I’m super proud to have done these books, but really grateful for the industry that lets me do it, and for the readers who let me do it. But I don’t know when I’m going to be crazy enough to do it again.

Debbie Millman:

Well, interestingly, in a recent interview with Tim Ferriss, you stated that probably for the last five books, you felt like you didn’t know when the next book after it would be coming. And this is one of those books. And you go on to state that if this had to be your last book, you’d be proud to make this your last book. So, I have two questions about this. First, what gave you the sense after the last five books that they could be your last? And why, if The Practice is indeed your last book, would that be OK?

Seth Godin:

OK. Some of it has to do with the fact that I’ve been on the edge of media for 40 years, and I think hard about how media works. And in the case of book publishing, the book publishing industry has a customer, and its customer is the bookseller. That’s why there’s no phone number in the back of your book, why you can’t call Random House, because Random House doesn’t sell to you, they sell to the bookstore. And the bookstores are all gone. And independent bookstores are wonderful, but they can’t sustain what’s going on here. And as a result, the book publisher, which offers so many things to the author, is clearly threatened because it’s being disintermediated by the fact that if you want to put a book on the Kindle, you can just put a book on the Kindle.

What that means is that if you want to publish a book and do good work on behalf of your publisher, there’s an enormous amount of heavy lifting that goes beyond typing the thing up. And talking to you is a joy, but I’ve done a lot of podcasts and a lot of work to get the word out, to cause people to do something that’s now unnatural, which is to go buy a book. And I’m fortunate, you’re fortunate, lots of people are fortunate that we can reach a lot of people by clicking a few keys on our keyboard. So, I need a really good reason to hoard an idea and put it in book form. So, that’s part of it. And part of it is I turned 60, and I am not entitled to just keep writing books whenever I want. I’m doing it for my readers. And if I don’t have something that’s book-worthy, then I’m not going to put it in a book.

And I don’t view myself as being beholden to the process of, you write another book, write another book, write another book, like I used to be. And so, if it’s not there, it’s not there. And I don’t feel like I’m going to die tomorrow, but I think all of us are aware of our mortality and want to leave behind work that we’re proud of. And when I look at this book … I reread it in the middle of the pandemic, because if it wasn’t, if it was tone deaf, I wasn’t going to publish it. And when I reread it, I said to myself, “I’m OK with this. This is something I think people need to hear.”

Debbie Millman:

You just mentioned that you didn’t think you were entitled. You use the word entitled to necessarily write another book. Why that specific word?

Seth Godin:

Because you’re taking up space on the bookshelf, and you’re taking up space in people’s heads, and you’re taking a spot away from the next voice, maybe somebody who didn’t get the privilege that I got, maybe they didn’t get the platform that I got. And there’s a scarcity in the world, a scarcity of attention, and a scarcity of trust, and I’m aware every day of not abusing the trust that I have, and not overloading people. Because it’s not about me, it’s about what connections can I create and what opportunities can I offer to people? Because the only way we’re going to make things better is peer-to-peer. It’s not going to come from somebody on a white horse, it’s going to come because each one of us figured out how to elevate 10 other people.

Debbie Millman:

The Practice is a book with 230 chapters, but it is also a book that is less than 230 pages long. So, can you talk a little bit about the structure?

Seth Godin:

OK. So, my brain, thanks to ADD, has always—“Oh, look, a puppy”—has always been easily distracted.

Debbie Millman:

I’m like, “I just got a puppy.” I’m like, “Did he come in?”

Seth Godin:

And the internet showed up and made it so that people with that sort of attention span did better for a while, because it rewards this stop-and-start thing. So my writing has always been a little bit choppy in that sense, but what I wanted to do here was lay a foundation, 200 bricks, one after another, and it felt to me like the bite-sized morsels that followed each other in appropriate ways match the way so many of us are thinking in this moment. But I’m also hopeful that it’s more than a collection of posts. It really should weave together.

Debbie Millman:

You’ve also said that the book could be a workshop that lasted 150 days. So, why the difference? Because that’s a long period of time versus the shorter, more concentrated chapters?

Seth Godin:

It actually is a workshop that lasted 150 days.

Debbie Millman:

So, it is. OK.

Seth Godin:

I made the workshop first. It took two years to make the workshop. And the ideas in the book started as … I think there are 50 principle lessons inside the workshop, but then I got to watch 500 people exchange 500 pieces of feedback per month with each other, back and forth, more than a half a million in total over the course of the workshop, back and forth, people doing this work. And the challenge of the workshop is, we say, “Show up for 100 days, 100 days in a row, you don’t have to spend a lot of time, five minutes, we don’t care, write something for 100 days in a row.”

What happened stunned me, because I’ve been running these workshops for a while in other topics, but the community showed up and they did it, and books were published, and businesses were started, and connections were made, because streaks work, and streaks matter. You have built a lifetime of streaks, Debbie, first with your branding business, and then as a dean and a teacher. If you know you’re going to class tomorrow, your brain is working on it tonight. You don’t make a new decision every day, you make the streak decision once. And watching people who had been unprofessional about their creativity turning pro all as a group. So, we ran it again, and it worked even better the second time. So we’re running it again, we … I’m not we anymore, Akimbo is running it again in January, and it’s extraordinary to see what people are capable of once they commit to it.

And so, once there was a workshop, turning it into a book, that was the straightforward part.

Debbie Millman:

Let’s talk about the title and the subtitle.

Seth Godin:

OK.

Debbie Millman:

The entire book title is The Practice: Shipping Creative Work. And I’m wondering if we can deconstruct it a little bit.

Seth Godin:

Yes, please.

Debbie Millman:

So, first, The Practice, you state that the practice is choice, plus skill, plus attitude. So, is that the backstory for the title and use of the word, “the practice”?

Seth Godin:

The backstory of the title is that the title is really trust yourself. And I own trustyourself.com, which wasn’t cheap, and I’m bad at ignoring some costs sometimes, so, I keep referring to it in my head as trust yourself. Why trust yourself? People talk to themselves. I talked to myself, maybe you talk to yourself, but we don’t really freak out about the fact that someone is talking to someone. There are two selves, the one that is talking, and the one that is listening. Which one is which? The one who is talking is a critic, is afraid, is a perfectionist. And the one who is being talked to is soft at heart, and brilliant, and generous, and has something to say. And we can extinguish it. Pressfield calls this resistance.

And if we could learn to trust that other voice and let it speak up, there’s no guarantee it’s going to work. Most of the time, it won’t, but it’s the best path to doing the work we need to do to trust ourselves. And the great Niki Papadopoulos, my editor at Penguin, said, “That’s a really good riff, but it’s not a really good title, because it’s too complicated and it doesn’t evoke what you’re after.” And the reason you work with someone like her is so you can listen to her. Because, as I pointed out in the book, good criticism is really scarce, and she knows what she’s doing. So, I had to take my advice and I listened to her. So, The Practice is simple, The Practice says, “We merely do this work. We make the choice to do the work, and then we do it without commentary, without drama, without reassurance, without needing to be assured of an outcome. We merely do the work.”

And I know a lot of creative people, not as many as you, but a lot, who have become famous, who have won awards, who are successful in every field, and this is what they have in common. It’s not a talent, it’s not something that the muse touched them and not somebody else—they simply do the work. And there are times that they’ll do a hack just to succeed, but most of the time when they’re proud of their work, it’s because they have a practice, and the practice is its own reward. And its output is a thing that might lead to the thing you’re hoping for, but that’s not why you do it, you do it because it’s your practice.

Debbie Millman:

Well, we’re actually going to take a deep dive into many of the words you just used—hack, trust, reassurance, especially reassurance, and so forth. In the book, you write that the practice is agnostic about the outcome, and the practice remains regardless of the outcome. Can you elaborate a little bit on what you mean by agnostic?

Seth Godin:

Let me just use an example that might not sound like it’s a creative’s work, which is being a doctor. If you are a podiatrist, you probably don’t have many patients dying on you, but if you’re an oncologist, unfortunately, you do. Does that mean an oncologist is not as good a doctor as a podiatrist? Of course not. It just means that the oncologist does her work, and her best work often leads to a good outcome, but sometimes it doesn’t. And that’s not about the work, that’s about the outcome. And it’s impossible to become an emergency room doctor or an oncologist and say, “I will only do it as long as everyone lives.” Can’t have it, doesn’t work. And the same thing’s true if you’re a blogger. You can’t say, “I will only blog if every blog I write works on everyone every time.” You simply do the work.

Now, you should learn from what you do, because if you’re busy writing your blog in Italian, and everyone who reads it only speaks English, you need to do a different kind of work. But learning from the work is different than trying to control the outcome as you do the work, because that means you’re not trusting yourself.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, it’s so interesting. I used to say when Twitter was 140 characters that we lived in a 140-character culture, and now that it’s 240, I guess, or whatever it is, 280, I guess I could say we’re in a 280-character culture. I was doing a talk years ago when blogging was really, really big. And a young woman at the end of the talk, when it was the Q&A time, raised her hand and asked me … oh, actually she told me that she had started a blog, and that she was really frustrated because she was not able to catch anybody’s attention, that people weren’t reading, commenting, noticing. She was quite concerned and frustrated. And I asked her how long she had been doing it. And without missing a beat, Seth, she looked at me and said, “Six weeks.”

I have sandwiches in my refrigerator older than six weeks. And so, what kind of longevity do you think that people should anticipate before they can even begin to think of greatness when they’re attempting to do something new?

Seth Godin:

I was with you until the last sentence. You can be great on your second try. You can’t be popular on your second try.

Debbie Millman:

OK. Yep, I get it.

Seth Godin:

This is podcast number 800 for you, or something like that?

Debbie Millman:

That’s what it feels like.

Seth Godin:

It’s a lot.

Debbie Millman:

Something like that.

Seth Godin:

You were the pioneer. How many people listened to the second episode of your podcast? 10?

Debbie Millman:

If that.

Seth Godin:

Right?

Debbie Millman:

And if you take out my family, maybe two.

Seth Godin:

Every single podcast starts with 10 listeners, every one. Every blog starts with 10 readers. So, we first begin by understanding that commercial success or audience size. You could get lucky, you could not get lucky. They’re unrelated to what you did. But No. 2 two is, great has nothing to do with popular. And if you seek to be popular, you’re listening to the wrong two people right now. If you seek to do work that changes a person, five people, nine people, well, then Debbie Millman is a really good person to listen to.

Debbie Millman:

Well, you write that the practice demands that we seek to make an impact on someone, but not everyone. Is there an ideal number of someones that people should?

Seth Godin:

The ideal number is the smallest number you can live with. And so, in my case, that’s 10,000 people. If 10,000 people like my work enough to interact with it and share it, not only do I feel seen, I can make a commercial success with that. And that means that 99.9999% of the people on Earth never need to hear of me. We are not selling ketchup, Debbie, we are not selling Kraft Singles, what we are doing is selling something peculiar and idiosyncratic and specific to just a few people. And if you’re a podcaster on a specific topic, you could easily be successful by any measure with 300 loyal listeners. It’s not about how many people. The social media folks want you to think that because they’re in the business of making you feel uncomfortable, coming back and boosting … and the boost button is your enemy.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah. One of the things that I think really confuses and deflates a lot of new podcasters is the way that Apple measures their charts, the way that they construct their charts. Their charts are based on impact, not actual numbers. So, if you have a brand-new podcast and a bunch of your friends are listening, chances are you’re going to hit the charts. But after eight, 10, 12 weeks, because that impact isn’t really necessarily changing with any kind of big delta, you drop off. And people start so excited—“I hit the No. 1 place,” or, “I made the Top 10.” And I want to say, don’t look at the charts, because in three months, you’re going to be crying, and you don’t want that. You need to make 10 or 20 podcasts before you even launch. So, you’re doing it because you want to do it, and then let it happen as it happens.

Seth Godin:

Yeah. And if you’re doing the work for someone, who cares what the chart says? Famously, a few years ago, I fired The New York Times on my blog with detail about how it’s corrupt and corrupted, and how every week, The New York Times intentionally publishes a full page of information that they know is not true. And yet, so many authors talk to me, “I want to be on …” “Why? Why do you want to be in New York … Why?” “Well, I know it’s corrupt, but, yeah.” So, what you’re really looking for is reassurance and validation. That’s not why we do creative work.

Debbie Millman:

Right. We are going to talk about that at length. Before we get to that, I want to talk about one of my favorite things you write about, and that’s the concept of practice relating to sports. And you state, “No one criticizes the home run hitter for taking batting practice. At the same time, no one is surprised that 70% of the time, they don’t even reach first base. If you need a guarantee of critical and market success every time you seek to create, you found a great place to hide. If the need for critical and market success has trapped you into not being bold again, you found another place to hide.” And I talk to my students a lot about these stats. Most people don’t even realize that people like Babe Ruth, Michael Jordan, failed more than they succeeded with their respective averages.

Michael Jordan only got the ball in the basket 35% of the time. That means 65% of the time, he failed. And he’s the greatest of all time, or maybe him and LeBron. But people don’t realize how many times you have to do it to actually be able to even predict the possibility that you’re going to get it in the basket.

Seth Godin:

Well, if we think about the infinite game, which is more interesting to me than the finite game, the infinite game, Jim Carse rest in peace, and Simon Sinek’s follow-up, is the game we play because we get to play. If you’re playing catch with your niece who’s 4 years old, you don’t try to win at catch, you try to play catch because that’s the purpose. And the fact that we are lucky enough to be able to play catch is a thrill. We don’t practice our catch so that we can win next time, we practice our catch because the practice is the point. And I’ve been to several of the sessions you’ve run with students and the graduations and stuff, and you can feel the fear in the air, these group projects of people who want to make sure that they fit in all the way, because they’ve been brainwashed for 15 or 20 years to fit in all the way.

And as hard as you are working to help them see that there are no prizes for fitting in, it’s still so hard to stand out, because when we stand out … when I used to travel the world, people would come up to me afterwards and they’d say, “In our country, we have this thing called the tall poppy syndrome, where the tall poppies get cut down. I know you don’t know what that is.” They say that to me in every country I go to. Tall poppy syndrome started in ancient Rome or Greece, and it’s this idea that a despot just beheads the people who speak up the most. And then everybody becomes afraid. So, we’ve now translated that into an excuse to keep us from doing the work that we want to share. But the perversity of it is in the culture we live in now. Those are the only people who get prizes. Those are the only people who come out ahead.

It’s not the ones who say, “This is blameless, I fit in all the way.” It’s the ones who, a lot of people say, “I don’t get it. I don’t get it.” Those are the surprise bestsellers.

Debbie Millman:

Right. It’s so interesting that you bring up students because I very intentionally set up my program so that it was pass/fail. There’s no grades. And I can’t begin to tell you how many people still want to know how they’re doing. And I always say to them, “You know how you’re doing. Nothing I say is going to change how you think you’re doing deep down.” And that is the whole notion of that reassurance that you’re talking about. Before we get to that, and I keep teasing it—

Seth Godin:

It’s great.

Debbie Millman:

… but I do want to talk about the second half of the title. That’s all we’ve gotten to in this one, is the title.

Seth Godin:

Can you give me a seven-part series?

Debbie Millman:

Yes. The concept of shipping creative work. Why the specific word, ship?

Seth Godin:

If it doesn’t ship, it doesn’t count.

Debbie Millman:

So, could ship be publish, or post, or blog, or share? So, it’s really just—

Seth Godin:

If it’s in your head, it doesn’t count. I can tell you how many internet things I have pioneered in my head years before they were real. Doesn’t count. Why doesn’t it count? Because you’re not doing this work for you, you’re doing this work for those eight people, or those 80 people, or those 800 people. And if they never see the work, it doesn’t count. And the word work is also in the subtitle because work means you’re on the hook, and you don’t get to do it because you feel like it, you do it because you promised you would. And so, you’re a pro. You are shipping your work, even when you don’t feel like it, even when you are afraid, even when you are sure bad things will happen, simply because you said you would.

Debbie Millman:

Right. So, you ship on a schedule without attachment and without reassurance. That brings us to the first topic in the book that I want to talk to you about, Reassurance.

Seth Godin:

Yeah. This really rubs people the wrong way.

Debbie Millman:

Full disclosure, I had an ex that told me that I was a bottomless pit of need, and that I needed reassurance all the time. Now, this was 25 years ago, so I’ve done a lot of work since then. But you state this about reassurance: “Very few three-word mantras are more disturbing than reassurance is futile. But once you embrace the practice, you will realize it’s true. ‘Everything is going to work’ isn’t true, it can’t be.” Tell us why.

Seth Godin:

OK. So, I love reassurance, and reassurance makes people … it’s like showering, bathing. There’s nothing wrong with it, except it’s a trap and it will wreck your creative practice. So, what is reassurance? Reassurance is someone predicting the future on your behalf. Reassurance is someone you trust, saying, “Everything is going to be OK.” They don’t know. So, in the short run, you’re grateful. And then you realize, not only isn’t it true, but someone you trust just told you something to make you feel better, as opposed to something that’s true. What is helpful is for someone to say, “Whatever happens is going to happen, and I’ll have your back either way.” Because knowing someone has our back gives us the opportunity to go forward with honesty, because it might not work. That is what makes it creative—it might not work.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, you’re taking a risk, or you should be taking a risk.

Seth Godin:

So, if Spike Lee called you up and said, “Debbie, loving your podcast, it’s going to be blah, blah, blah.” You feel great. And then tomorrow, you’d need him to call again, because some speed bump occurred, and we can never get enough reassurance. So, if it’s something that we can never get enough of, I’d rather live without it. And I’d rather say, “Let me surround myself with people who know how to give criticism, and who are going to have my back. Because if I have those two things, my practice is intact, and I can do the work, and I don’t need someone to tell me everything’s going to be OK.”

Debbie Millman:

Well, I think we metabolize reassurance in the same way that we metabolize success, or the same way we metabolize love. It changes. It seems as if we could trust ourselves, we wouldn’t need someone else to buoy us up.

Seth Godin:

That’s right. But we can only trust ourselves to do the work, we cannot trust ourselves to guarantee the outcome. And our capitalist industrial system has brainwashed us, indoctrinated us, into believing that all that matters is the outcome. That it’s OK to cheat as long as you win. It’s not. It’s OK to play well, even if you don’t win, because that is the practice, and that is what gets us to the other side.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, we really do shy away from any kind of conflict or criticism. My students, I am very specific with them when talking about how they should show people their portfolios. I tell them, especially the young ones that are just starting, at the end of every time they show their portfolio, they should ask, “If you were me, what would be one thing you would recommend I take out?” Because most people aren’t going to tell you the truth. They’re just going to say, “Oh, that’s nice, oh, that’s nice,” but never really tell you that, “That thing right there, that’s ruining your whole portfolio.” Because they don’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings. I think that the avoidance of hurting someone’s feelings or offending someone is bigger than pain.

Seth Godin:

Yeah, there’re so many things in that example that are brilliant. Let’s start with this. I can’t imagine being a student to have to show someone my portfolio. And perhaps the first thing that I would do is have them show somebody else’s portfolio, someone successful. Because most people have no clue how to look at a portfolio. And people who love you and care about you, when you show them your creative work that hasn’t come out yet, will often try to dissuade you from doing it. They will often say, “No, no, no, you should hold back.” Because they’re trying to protect you from pain. And that feels like, “I don’t have your back.” That feels like, “You should just fit in, please.”

So be really careful about who you show your portfolio to ever. And I know, the first years that I was in the book business, I got really bad feedback from people who cared about me, because they didn’t understand what I was doing or where I was doing it, and they didn’t know how to give criticism. And I took it to heart, and it paralyzed me. And only when, I don’t know if you know my friend, Michael Cater—

Debbie Millman:

No.

Seth Godin:

But I met Michael Cater, and then I met John Boswell. Two people from the book business who understood, who were enrolled in the journey. Who could look at my work and say, “That. Maybe not that, but that.” And we need to hear that. That’s not reassurance, that’s someone who knows how to give criticism. And your point about “maybe you should take this out of your portfolio” is a great one, but half the time, that’s the one you should put on the front page of your portfolio.

Debbie Millman:

That’s true. I also say, ultimately, it’s up to you if 10 people looking at it all say the same. And you might want to consider how you either present it, or how you talk about what it is that you’re trying to accomplish with it.

Seth Godin:

Yeah. And William Goldman famously said, “Nobody knows anything.” And what he meant was, every blockbuster in Hollywood is a surprise, every one, until Marvel movies came along. It was always a surprise, because nobody knows anything.

Debbie Millman:

A term that you write about quite a lot in The Practice is the word hack. And you don’t use it as, “We’re going to hack the system,” but rather more the way it was used several decades ago, or even several hundred years ago. Tell us why you use that specific word and actually what you mean by being a hack?

Seth Godin:

I use the word because it has a great backstory, and because I couldn’t think of a better, more specific way to talk about this. I need to be clear, it’s OK to be a hack as long as you’re doing it on purpose. So, what does it mean to be a hack? It means figure out what your customer wants and give it to them. Meet their spec and get paid. This year was going to be the 50th reunion anniversary tour of The Doobie Brothers. If you went to see The Doobie Brothers’ 50th reunion tour, if COVID hadn’t happened, you were hoping that they would play covers of Doobie Brothers songs from the 1970s. You’re not hoping to hear their new album, even if they don’t have it, right? No, you want to hear the classic songs.

So, basically, they’re a Doobie Brothers cover band, right? And there’s nothing wrong with that. In that moment, they’re being hacks. They’re not there to break new ground. “We want this,” “Here it is.” That’s different than choosing to go out on a limb and do something that might not work, which is creative work. Just because you’re playing guitar doesn’t mean it’s creative. They’re two different things. So, if I want someone to paint my house, I want a hack. I want someone who’s going to paint my house exactly the way it was painted last time for a little bit less money than last time. Thank you very much. Whereas if I want a painting for my wall, I don’t want a hack to do that, I don’t want it to be from Dolphin, China, where they paint any painting you want for $39. I want it to be something that changes me. And so, we need to pay the bills.

And when I do speaking gigs, I say to the client, “Do you want me to do my best stuff? Or do you want me to do new stuff?” Because if I do new stuff, it might not work, but you can say I did new stuff. If you want me to do my best stuff, it’s definitely going to work. But in that moment, I know I’m being a hack in the sense of, I know it’s going to work, and I am simply the vessel and the microphone to bring my previous idea for it. I’m doing a cover version of me.

Debbie Millman:

What do your clients usually say?

Seth Godin:

99 out of 100 times, they say, “Please do your best stuff.” And so, I have to do my new stuff to non-paying clients. I have to do my new stuff in other settings, because I’m not going to break that promise that I made to the group that just came to see me.

Debbie Millman:

You state that a hack isn’t something you want to be, a hack reverse-engineers all the work barely getting by. The hack has no point of view, it’s simply, “What do you need? How little do I have to do to charge to get this gig?” And back when I was working in corporate branding, one of my clients called that—and I thought you’d like this—being a design waitress. “What can I get for you today? The Italic or bold?”

Seth Godin:

“Make the logo bigger.”

Debbie Millman:

Right, exactly. Or the serifs. You also go on to state that if you go too far to please an audience, you become a hack. You lose your point of view, lose your reason for doing the work, become a hack. Focus only on the results, become a hack. So, is there a conscious way to avoid becoming a hack?

Seth Godin:

Oh, I think there are many conscious choices. Jerry Seinfeld has famously said, “I’m done with this material, I’m going to do new material.” I do that same thing often. We say, “There are some clients that need me to be like this, but I’m also going to work at this teaching hospital.” We say that, “I do two movies for the studio that make box office, but then I get to make my art film.” And all of these are part of, what does it mean to live in a commercial world and still be able to commune with yourself and bring that idea forward? And so, there’s nothing here that I’m trying to say that says it is wrong to give the audience what they need and want; what I’m saying is, we are constantly in a tense balancing act with that versus what change do we seek to make?

But what I am completely leaving out is I don’t think there’s any room for you to simply say, “This is my authentic muse, take it or leave it.” Because that’s a hobby, that is not professional work.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, we’re going to get to muse. One of the great examples in the book reveals how Joni Mitchell avoided being a hack. And it’s so interesting because you wrote about a line that she says in one of her live concerts in Miles of Aisles, that I think about all the time. And I don’t want to give too much away, it’s really your story from the book. So, I’m wondering if you can share that with our listeners.

Seth Godin:

Her stories, so many of her stories, are inspiring, are heartbreaking. The misogyny that she dealt with for all of those years, when we would like to imagine she was in some sort of Woodstock-like garden, her health issues, all of it. So, part of the lessons we can take. In Miles of Aisles, someone calls out a request, and she says, “I wonder if people yelled at Van Gogh, play ‘Starry Starry Night’ again.”

Debbie Millman:

It’s one of the greatest rock and roll lines of all time.

Seth Godin:

Yes.

Debbie Millman:

All time.

Seth Godin:

And she says it just perfectly. So, what Joni did was, she figured out how to be Joni Mitchell with a capital ‘J’ and a capital ‘M,’ and she sold more records than almost any solo female artist had ever. Carole King was up there with her, but she was just a hit machine. And she knew deep down how to make a Joni Mitchell record, and didn’t want to. She did not want to become captive to that. Bob Dylan did the same thing; whether or not the motorcycle accident was real or not, he did the same thing, which is, “How do I move past this thing that got me? What was the point of getting this popular? Was it so that now I have to just make this over and over again? And so, she made Don Juan’s Reckless Daughter album that I really admire, and then one after that.

And the two of them, those two albums, pretty much alienated most program directors and a lot of her core audience. And she was like, “Phew, now I can go back to making Joni Mitchell records with a small ‘J’ and a small ‘M,’ because I got into this because I wanted to make art, not because I wanted to be a rockstar.” And at the time, it was easy for the fans to say, “You broke the promise.” But she never made that promise. The promise she made was, “Here I am, this is what I made for you.” And being able to go on that journey, if you’ve gotten lucky enough, to make a living, what a privilege, what a joy. And so not everyone needs to do that. It’s OK to be a hit machine, but you should do either one on purpose.

Debbie Millman:

Joni ultimately didn’t care about a mass audience, she wanted an audience that respected her work and her journey. And I think, it’s not like I know her, but I think, knowing her work and her journey, that she essentially chose her audience. And one of the chapters of your book is titled “Choose Your Clients, Choose Your Future,” and you pose this question—and I’d love for you to answer it for our listeners—you ask, “What is the difference between Chip Kidd, the extraordinarily successful book cover designer, and someone with the same tools and skills that Chip has?”

Seth Godin:

Right. I learned a lot of this from you, and I should have name-checked you in this here.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, not at all.

Seth Godin:

No, but I need to say that out loud because as you’re talking, I’m hearing your voice in my head, I just didn’t realize it was your voice when I was writing.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, OK. Well, it’s funny because I got really excited because Chip is one of my best friends. So, I immediately took a picture of the screen and I’m like, “Look, you’re reading Seth’s book.” So, I have to tell you what he said, because I thought, “You know what? This is just serendipity. Seth is going to love this response.”

Seth Godin:

I can’t wait, because he and I don’t know each other well, but he knows I’m a huge fan of his. His TED talk, if you watch his TED talk, I was on right before him, like 10 minutes before him, and what you’ll notice is, his glasses are missing one of the struts, and I still to this day can’t figure out if he did that on purpose or not, because—

Debbie Millman:

Oh, he didn’t, he didn’t. They broke and he couldn’t fix it, and he had to go on.

Seth Godin:

So, the deal is, Sterling Brands had some really good clients, and Sterling Brands had some not so good clients.

Debbie Millman:

Correct.

Seth Godin:

And when you chose to teach at SVA, you have some students who push you, and you have some students who are just there for the ride. I taught at NYU, and I taught at a community college. When I taught at NYU, the students took. And when I taught at the community college, the students gave because they were there for a different reason. Pick your students, pick your future. And in Chip’s case, he has better clients. Better clients demand innovative work and pay on time. They pay extra. They talk about your work. They challenge you. They say, “That’s not good enough, make it better.” You don’t get better clients by first having a lot of mediocre clients and working your way up, you get better clients by becoming the kind of person that better clients want to hire.

And the thing is, if you go to Chip Kidd and say, “I’d like you to do a book cover for me and it should look like this,” Chip Kidd says, “No thank you, because I’m Chip Kidd. If you want me to make a Chip Kidd cover, you’re going to get what I make. That’s why you should hire me.” And the only people who go to him are good clients. He chose that path. Now, it’s not easy to choose that path, because along the way, people say, “Well, who the hell are you?” And there’s a lot of days when you’re just sitting in your office by yourself because you’re not deciding to hack your way forward, you’re deciding to attract a certain kind of client. So, when I look at his work, I say, “I can’t even copy Chip Kidd’s look and feel. I can’t even parody it, because he is such a unique voice with a point of view, and that unique voice and point of view earned him better clients.”

Debbie Millman:

As I mentioned, as soon as I saw it, I photographed the screen and I sent it to him. And he wrote back. He was thrilled, but he wanted me to tell you that not only did he have better clients, but Chip has never quit his day job. And I think that is so important to understand because he had … that sense of freedom gave him that ability to experiment, and that’s really where his heart sings. So, yeah, I mean, I think it just proved every single thing in your book in that one text back from him. Like, “I can’t wait to tell Seth.” It also reminded me a little bit of something that Michael Bierut said, another great, great graphic designer, and he said this to me about his success.

This is his quote: “I actually think that I’ve compensated for whatever flaws and shortcomings I have as a creative person by being smart, and well-read, and by working really, really hard, and by getting more at-bats. I seem to hit a lot of home runs because I have 10 times as many at-bats as everyone else in the league. Meanwhile, the stands are littered with foul balls and strikeouts, and no one knows about them because I don’t count those. Right?” And it reminded me of your quote about batting practice. And for Michael, that’s true. I mean, he is just a workhorse. And I think that people don’t always see all of the strikeouts and all the foul balls, they just see the home runs, because those are the ones that are reported.

Despite all the talk about failure porn in our culture now, people are still really reluctant to experiment with anything out of their comfort zone. I mean, not everybody, but a lot of people. How did we get to this place where people are so reluctant to get scraped up?

Seth Godin:

Well, part of it goes back to indoctrination—no prizes for getting scraped up in school. And high school is an unforgiving place where people who need to find status through separation will remind us forever of the thing we didn’t do. Right? But I think it’s probably primordial. I think you got kicked out of the village or the tribe 10,000 years ago if you offended the chief even once. What’s different now is, there are so many safe, completely safe ways to fail, that call our bluff. So, writing a blog under an assumed name, why wouldn’t you do that? Why wouldn’t you use a fake name and post a piece of your art every day, or a piece of your writing, or a riff from your keyboard every day? Because if it works, OK, you don’t get credit, but you learn something. And if it doesn’t work, you learn something, and no one can lay a glove on you because they don’t know who made it. Right? And this act of being able to put things into the world.

So, one of the cool things about my blog is, people only share the good ones. So, I don’t even have to do what Michael does, which is get more clients, I just write another blog post tomorrow. And for the people who only get my blog because it’s forwarded from one of my readers, they think I’m hitting a thousand, because those are the only ones that anyone ever forwards. And so, no, I can’t do something on my blog that I would be ashamed of. I can’t do something on my blog that’s selfish or hurtful. But there’s tons of days when I write a blog post in a slightly new form, or in a slightly new topic, that might not work, because I’ve lowered the stakes so low, the same way Chip hasn’t quit his day job. Right?

I don’t have five houses, I don’t have a plane. It’s pretty easy for me to not need tomorrow to work. And you can get there with sleeping on a couch, and brown rice and black beans. I mean, the point is, unless you figure out a practice, there’s never going to be a potter at the end of the rainbow anyway.

Debbie Millman:

How many blog posts have you … what’s your streak now?

Seth Godin:

I think it’s 7,500, give or take.

Debbie Millman:

So, I get your newsletter every day, seven days a week. And it would be interesting the next time we see each other—I should share with you my folder, because then you could see the ones that I like. Because the ones that I want to keep forever, I have a NSF coding folder in my email. And so it’ll be interesting. I wonder if you can tell something about a person by the blog posts they specifically keep. What is the common denominator in those? Because there’s hundreds and hundreds in there now, but it would be interesting to understand the commonality. Sometime we’ll have to do that.

Seth Godin:

But just since we brought up streaks, just a little insert here is, there’s going to be a blog post for me tomorrow. And I happen to be pretty pleased with tomorrows, but there would be a blog post for me tomorrow even if I wasn’t pleased with it, because it’s tomorrow. And that is a key part of my practice—tomorrow. If you wait to have a negotiation with yourself about, “Is this good enough to ship?” you’re going to spend all of your time rationalizing that negotiation. I am not permitted to have that, because it’s tomorrow.

Debbie Millman:

You and Cal Ripken. I meant that as a compliment.

Seth Godin:

I appreciate it.

Debbie Millman:

One of my favorite paragraphs in your book is about skills and what we can learn. And this is a fairly lengthy quote, but I think it’s worthy of being read. You state, “We can learn to be more honest, we can learn to be more diligent, we can learn to be more persistent, and that’s great. Because if you can learn them, then you’re not stuck where you are, you can become who you want to be. If we start by acknowledging that our attitudes are skills, and that our skills are learnable, suddenly talent recedes far into the rearview mirror. We’re going to be rewarded not simply because we can beat someone on a test, but because our whole posture is based on the possibility of better. And the possibility of if your goal is to win, to win. That’s the second piece that goes right next to the other skills, and people overlook it because our industrial system doesn’t really reward us for measuring that stuff.”

So, my question to you here, Seth, is, why not? Why doesn’t our industrial system reward us for measuring that stuff? And then, second part of the question, what are the most important things to measure, if anything?

Seth Godin:

I don’t think we get rewarded because it’s hard, it’s hard to measure, and the system is ultimately lazy. So, it defaults to what’s easy to measure. How many words per minute can you type? How many followers do you have on Instagram? How many pounds can you bench press? These are easy measurements. It’s hard to measure resilience, it’s hard to measure loyalty, it’s hard to measure kindness. And so, since we can’t have an easy agreement about that … a small aside. The SAT was invented by somebody between World War I and World War II when there was a shortage of slots, and they needed to figure out temporarily how to make sure they got the right people to come.

And the inventor of the standardized test ended up becoming a college president in Kansas, a very prestigious job. And when he spoke up against standardized tests when the emergency was over, he was drummed out of the academy that he was persona non grata. How dare he say that standardized tests needed to go away? Because the entire structure of most bureaucratic hierarchies is about standardization. And if we don’t come up with a standardized way to measure resilience or loyalty or kindness, we can’t build a hierarchy around it, we can’t build a bureaucracy around it. So, that’s why it’s a problem. And so, whole countries are built around standardized tests. And what we’re finding is that’s a race to the bottom. And the problem with the race to the bottom is you might win. And the alternative is to figure out how can we be a little softer and a little bit more flexible to do work that’s harder to measure, but that’s more important?

Debbie Millman:

Embedded in all of that measurement is comparison, and then embedded in all of that comparison is feeling that you’re not good enough, feeling that you don’t measure up, and then the whole notion of imposter syndrome, which is also something that you talk about in the book. And I learned from your book that imposter syndrome was named by several researchers—interesting commonality there—30 or 40 years ago, and it afflicts people of every gender and background and so on. And it’s the feeling that we have of being a fraud, when we’re about to lead or do something important. And it’s a feeling of being an imposter. And I think I read this correctly—do you still feel that way sometimes? Do you still suffer from imposter syndrome?

Seth Godin:

Only if I’m doing good work.

Debbie Millman:

Why?

Seth Godin:

Because good work for me is work that I’m not sure is going to work. I am asserting something about the future, and I’m not sure. So, who am I? Who am I to show up and say, “Yeah, I think X or this might work”? Because the world wants a guarantee, particularly now because people think I know what I’m talking about. And so, my imposter is bigger because they’re swayed by the fact that I have a reputation, which actually makes it worse. And there are plenty of times when I will hesitate to do something, and there’re very big projects I haven’t done, because I don’t want the person who I’m engaging with to think I am promising it’s going to work. And they have no way to go forward unless they think I’m promising, and I don’t want to be on that hook.

Debbie Millman:

Right. When you’re experiencing imposter syndrome, is there a part of you that’s excited about it, excited about knowing that you’re feeling that for a specific reason?

Seth Godin:

I’ve trained myself to do that. It is not natural to do so. I am not a runner, but I’m told that runners get tired when they do something like run a marathon. And I think that you finish the marathon because you figure out where to put the tired. And if you’re a competitive runner and you’re not feeling tired, that’s a signal that you’re not trying hard enough. Tired is a good thing. It is a compass. But it would seem to me that your natural systems are telling you, “Please slow down because it hurts.” It’s tired. Well, just like me, my natural systems are saying, “Dial it down a little bit; let’s wait, because you’re feeling like an imposter.” And the part of me that I’ve trained is, “Thanks for letting me know I’m doing good work again.”

Debbie Millman:

That’s so interesting. I have one of those little triggers also. When I hear myself say that I’m too busy, it usually means that something isn’t important enough for me to do. So, I say that busy is a decision, because ultimately, if I’m saying I’m too busy to do it, it’s because I don’t want to do it as much as the thing that I’m actually doing, even if that thing might be sleeping.

Seth Godin:

That’s a great title. Busy is a decision.

Debbie Millman:

You’ve written about how you’ve learned that the way we act determines how we feel way more often than the way we feel determines how we act. So, can you elaborate on that a little bit for me?

Seth Godin:

People like you and I are addicted to flow. Being in a state of flow is thrilling, that things are working, we’re in the right place, we’re doing the work, it’s flowing through us. Nobody starts working in a state of flow. The only way to enter a state of flow is to begin working when you’re not in a state of flow. The only way to fall asleep is to lie down in bed when you’re not asleep. We have to do things acting as if to accomplish the feeling that we seek, not the other way around. So, if you want to be a runner, the answer is run every day, then you are a runner. And if you don’t feel like painting an oil painting every day, that doesn’t matter. It is possible to show up and do the work, and then you will discover you’re glad you’re doing the work.

Debbie Millman:

Let’s talk about authenticity. You think it’s a crock, and a trap, and overrated, and talked about too much. So, I have to make you talk about it a little bit more. That’s a word that so many people are using these days; it’s sort of the new strategic. Why do you think it’s a crock and a trap and overrated and talked about too much?

Seth Godin:

Yeah. Well, I mean, you and I have both been around for a while, and I think if we think back to the ’80s or ’90s, no one talked about being authentic, no one. It’s an artifact of influencer culture, social media, bearing of souls. It’s a spectator sport to watch somebody have their authentic meltdown or whatever it is. I think when we say, “Well, I was just being authentic,” what we’re really saying is, “I tried something, don’t blame me that it didn’t work,” because we’re not authentic. Since we’ve been out of diapers, we’ve been very calculated about what to say and how to act to get what we want. And it is not authentic to comb your hair before you leave the house. Your hair didn’t look like that before you left the house—why did you comb it? You’re faking it, because you’re trying to send a message to people that I care about you and my appearance above all.

So, we’ve built all these layers around it. There are a few people who can succeed by throwing their tantrums on Instagram. That’s why we’re watching them. But the rest of the time, what we want from people is for them to be consistent, to be the best version of themselves that is possible in this moment. And if the chef is having a bad night, we don’t want them to authentically serve us bad food, we want them to figure out how to consistently be the chef we thought we were coming to hire. And the same thing is true for almost all the things we engage in. So, yes, there are levels of artifice that we would like to remove, but what we’re trying to come back to is, what’s a brand? A brand is a promise, it is not a logo. It is a promise of what to expect. And so, let’s strip away the artifice and get back to, “What did you want me to expect from you? Did you give me that?” Because that’s why it’s called work.

Debbie Millman:

Right. I think that brand authenticity is actually an oxymoron. And I also think that people that are seeking to be brands are going down a really slippery slope because brands are manufactured. Brands are created by people with a very specific goal, and humans are inconsistent. And we’re messy, and we lie, and those are all things that brands really aren’t aspiring to be. We should be changing our minds. And the idea that a living breathing soul of a person could aspire or should aspire to be a brand feels like you’re really undermining everything it means to be human.

Seth Godin:

Well, can I push back on you a little bit?

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, yeah. Yeah, please.

Seth Godin:

So, I adore you, and I don’t know you as well as I want, and I really wish I could get in my car and drive to wherever you are right now.

Debbie Millman:

Me too.

Seth Godin:

But you’re a brand to me. There is a story in my head about who you are, and different facets of that brand are revealed as I get to know you better, as I see—

Debbie Millman:

You don’t think that that’s just reputation?

Seth Godin:

Yeah, they’re the same thing.

Debbie Millman:

That that’s my character? So, I don’t think that reputation and character are the same as brand.

Seth Godin:

Well, they are in my vocabulary, because what they all add up to is, if Debbie says, “Please come on my podcast,” there is zero expectation that we’re going to get in a fight. There is zero expectation that you’re going to phone it in. There is zero expectation that you haven’t read my book. Because your reputation, I’m just using corporate words here, is, in some ways as a human, part of your brand. I don’t expect you to have a tantrum when I’m with you. There are other humans I know who reliably I expect to have a tantrum, because that is their reputation. And so, what I’m saying is, when we entered the world of, “You’re not my cousin, and you’re not my roommate,” every circle that’s bigger than that, we have to be aware of the fact that no one knows us, that no one will ever truly understand us, and that our reputation has layers of magnitude that are hard to overstate.

And so, I have to show up as Seth Godin with a capital ‘S’ and a capital ‘G.’ And I get that that’s part of my job. And that when I am working, part of my reputation is to say, “I have this privilege, this leverage, this trust.” I shouldn’t blow it by saying, “I have a really bad headache,” and swear somebody out, because who cares that I feel that way because of the fear I’m feeling right now? That’s not what I earned, and it’s not what I owe people.

Debbie Millman:

Well, I guess when I’m talking about the notion of brand versus reputation, is the idea that there’s a humanity in how you’re going to show up, which you can decide. And brands, there isn’t.

Seth Godin:

Totally agree with you.

Debbie Millman:

And that for me is the key difference, and why I bristle when people talk about building their personal brand. Build your reputation, build your character.

Seth Godin:

Yeah, I agree with this.

Debbie Millman:

And then everything else follows suit.

Seth Godin:

Yes.

Debbie Millman:

OK. I have a few last questions for you, and then a request.

Seth Godin:

OK.

Debbie Millman:

In your book, you state that we would never work for somebody who treats us the way that we treat ourselves.

Seth Godin:

Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

That was a beauty. I tell people, “Don’t go to work for somebody that doesn’t like you, or that you don’t think likes you, because it’s very rarely going to change.” And I just know that from personal experience. But why do we talk so harshly to ourselves?

Seth Godin:

When in doubt, look for the fear, look for the fear inside yourself, look for the fear in that boss who doesn’t like you, or in that person down the hall. Fear underlies so much of how human beings behave. And so, in the middle of the night, when your boss calls you and wakes you up because they’re worried about something that’s upcoming, and it turns out that boss is you, you’re being mean to yourself because you’re afraid of something. You are looking for reassurance, you’re looking for control.

Debbie Millman:

And approval.

Seth Godin:

And approval. And so, if we go back to the practice and acknowledge that the future is out of our control, that we are all falling, and that the good news is there’s nothing to hold on to, as Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche would say. Don’t keep looking for something to hold on to, including berating yourself; instead, do better work, just get back to work, because that is the single best way you have to improve the impact you have on the world.

Debbie Millman:

What about people that believe that they’re suffering from writer’s block?

Seth Godin:

Ah, writer’s block. There’s no such thing as writer’s block.

Debbie Millman:

It’s sort of like my busy is a decision thing. Writers block is a myth.

Seth Godin:

It’s totally a myth. It’s real in the sense that people suffer from it, but … we know it wasn’t used in literature until the 1900s. We know that no one gets plumber’s block, no one gets juggler’s block. Why don’t we get talker’s block? No one gets talker’s block. Why do we get writer’s block? Because we are afraid of bad writing. If you show me your bad writing, page after page after page of it, then you can tell me you have writer’s block. I don’t think you can show me that, because you haven’t done any. And the reason you haven’t done any is because you’re afraid to be on the hook to put it on paper, to put it on canvas, to put it wherever you do your work. Show me the bad stuff, do enough bad stuff, and some good stuff is going to slip through, no matter how hard you try.

Debbie Millman:

One of the things that I was thinking about in relation to my own practice of writing … I’ve been struggling for the last, I want to say two years, to write a book that was due a year ago. And then I got a year extension. But I realized, as my second deadline was approaching, with just about enough time to actually do it, if I could figure out a way how, was that I didn’t want to write the book. That the writer’s block wasn’t writer’s block, it was just writer’s wall, because I was trying to write something that I didn’t want to write. And I think that that is sometimes mistaken for writer’s block. Because suddenly I thought, “You know what? I actually don’t want to write this book. I don’t want to write this book.”

Seth Godin:

Why don’t you want to write the book?

Debbie Millman:

I didn’t want to write the book because I felt that I was repeating … ooh, because I’m being a hack. This is like a therapy session, because now I’m realizing it was because I was being a hack. I don’t want to be a hack. But I didn’t realize it at the time. But now I can say that, because I just this moment, like light bulb, because I was going to be a hack doing it.

Seth Godin:

So, just like busy is a choice, the book is a choice. And you said, “This isn’t rising to the level of something that I want to put my name on.”

Debbie Millman:

Right.

Seth Godin:

That, “I can write this book but I don’t want to write this book.”

Debbie Millman:

Exactly.

Seth Godin:

Very brave.

Debbie Millman:

It’s scary as hell. It’s actually, “OK, I think I’m going to have to give back my advance, and, OK. So, bye bye book deal.” In any case, I have one last question for you, and then the request. Although the question is two-parter. You ask in the book of people to consider, “When was the last time you did something for the first time?” And I’m wondering if you might share that with us. When was the last time you did something for the first time? And how did it go?

Seth Godin:

Often, when I ask people this question, they tear up. And they tear up because if they’re honest with themselves, it’s been too long. That feeling of doing something for the first time is so precious. And we have built a luxurious world where so many of us are not living hand-to-mouth with no other options, and yet, we waste it, because we watched the seventh episode of “Emily in Paris” instead of figuring out how to explore a frontier. The dramatic visual is, I built a canoe in my backyard over the last five months from scratch using hundreds of sticks.

Debbie Millman:

Wow.

Seth Godin:

But every day, I do something small, engaging with a human in a way that doesn’t feel like rote to me. And that for me is the practice of that first time thing of saying, “I might not know this person very well, or I might not have been in this situation before—how can I engage with them in a way where they are actually seen?” And I had a conversation with a woman this morning that I think helped both of us a lot because I saw the journey that she was on as a creator, and I was on thin ice in how I was talking about it, but I was helpful. And that was thrilling, I think, for both of us, because I don’t want to get into the business of doing rote. So, when I think of that, and then I think of paddling my canoe on sugar pond, I’m trying, I’m trying to do things for the first time.

Debbie Millman:

Seth, I was wondering—this is my request—I was wondering if you could read something that you include in The Practice titled “The 45 Ways,” which is a list of 45 ways we sacrifice our work to our fear.

Seth Godin:

A small preface, these contradict each other on purpose, and this list is not complete. “There are at least 45 ways we sacrifice our work to our fear. Stall, expand the project so it cannot move forward, shrink the project so that it doesn’t matter. Ship crap, don’t ship work that can be improved by others. Refuse to listen to generous critics. Eagerly listen to well-meaning but chicken-hearted critics. Sacrifice the work for the commercial short term. Hide from deadlines. Become a diva. Compromise on the good parts. Compromise on the hard parts. Assume that inspiration lies in a bottle or a pill. Don’t go to work. Work all the time. Wait for the muse. Talk about the work too early, looking for a reason to abandon it. Don’t talk about the work with the right people, crippling it. Define the work as you, and you as the work, making it all personal.

“Work only when inspiration strikes. Fall behind on domain knowledge. Copy everything. Copy nothing. Embrace jealousy. Taunt yourself. Announce that the important work takes longer. Expect applause. Demand cash commensurate with effort or insight, and hold back until it arrives. Avoid sales calls. Read your reviews. Memorize your reviews. Respond to your reviews. Catastrophize. Focus on your impending or eventual death. Assume immortality as a way of stalling. Listen to people who are afraid. Confuse perfectionism with quality. Hold on tighter as the ship date approaches. Let go too soon as the ship date approaches. Miss ship dates on a regular basis. Don’t set ship dates. Redefine your zone of contribution to be smaller than it needs to be, thus letting yourself off the hook.”

Three more. “Surround yourself with people who have small dreams. Polish your excuses.” And the last one, “Pretend you have writer’s block.”

Debbie Millman:

Seth, thank you, thank you, thank you for your extraordinary generosity, and thank you for joining me today on Design Matters.

Seth Godin:

What a treat, what a total treat. Thank you, Debbie.

Debbie Millman:

Thank you.

Seth Godin:

I miss you. I’ll talk to you soon.

Debbie Millman:

I miss you too. Seth Godin’s latest book is titled The Practice: Shipping Creative Work. To learn more about Seth, go to sethgodin.com and sign up for his class starting this January, and please sign up for his daily newsletter. It is the very, very best newsletter out there. This is the 16th year I’ve been doing Design Matters, and I’d like to thank you for listening. And remember, we can talk about making a difference, we could make a difference, or we can do both. I’m Debbie Millman, and I look forward to talking with you again soon.

The post Design Matters From the Archive: Seth Godin appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Debbie Millman:

Do you have a great idea that you think will make a lot of money? Do you need to raise some serious capital to get your idea off the ground? Well, you’ve come to the right place at the right time because my guest today is Suneel Gupta. He’s the co-founder of the healthcare company RISE, and he helped turn Groupon from a pipsqueak to a multi-billion dollar company. More to our purposes here, he’s the author of the new book Backable: The Surprising Truth Behind What Makes People Take a Chance on You. He’s here to talk about that surprising truth and about the surprising twists and turns in his own entrepreneurial story. Suneel Gupta, welcome to Design Matters.

Suneel Gupta:

Debbie, it’s so good to be here. Thank you so much for having me.

Debbie Millman:

I want to start by asking you a little bit about your mother. While this definitely an interview about you, I’d like to start by talking about her.

Suneel Gupta:

Sure.

Debbie Millman:

She’s really remarkable, are you OK with that?

Suneel Gupta:

Of course. Yeah. I love talking about mom.

Debbie Millman:

OK, so, in 1947, when your mother was 5 years old, her family was forced to move from their small village in India when the country had gained independence from Great Britain, but was divided into two countries—Pakistan and India. Your mom’s parents were well-to-do landowners who lost everything overnight when the rioting and looting broke out. They left on cargo ships in the middle of the night from Mumbai, where they were considered refugees. The family had no money, but your mom hatched a plan to get the family back on its feet. She studied hard in school, she made good grades and then, at 13 years old, the Prime Minister of India visited her city. She went to see him speak and he told the group that India needed engineers. At that moment, your mother decided to become an engineer. Something that was unheard of for women at the time.

Debbie Millman:

She went to college to study Mechanical Engineering at a college that didn’t have a women’s restroom. So like in the movie Hidden Figures, she had to bike one and a half miles just to go to the bathroom. At 19, she read a book about Henry Ford and became obsessed with assembly lines and Ford’s dream of bringing the car to the average person. She started dreaming of coming to the United States and working at Ford. She then left India in 1965 at 22 years old. She travels first to Germany, then to Stillwater, OK, where she studied engineering before getting a job at Ford in 1967. That same year, your mom’s car broke down outside Ann Arbor. So she found a telephone booth and searched the phonebook for the most common Indian name she could think of.

Debbie Millman:

The guy who answered was Subhash Gupta. They were married within a year and had two sons, your brother Sanjay and you. So my first question for you, Suneel, is this: Is it true that the word impossible was not allowed in your house in your upbringing?

Suneel Gupta:

Well, just even hearing you … it’s funny, and I grew up with this story, and just hearing you just say it, Debbie, it gets me emotional. Yeah, the word impossible was not allowed in our house. We were always sort of asked to figure it out. Whatever it is that we wanted to do, figure it out. It’s funny, I always sort of remember these stories about mom, and I have been more as of late, as she’s getting a little bit older, where I’m trying my best to spend as much time as I possibly can with her. And there are these moments that are just … I will all of a sudden think of, and one of them was, I remember in third grade I had a social studies teacher who I loved. Her name was Mrs. Canauer. I will never forget when Mrs. Canauer played some of the footage of John F. Kennedy’s inaugural speech.

Suneel Gupta:

Then, after she showed us the speech, we learned about John F. Kennedy, but one of the things she said was he didn’t necessarily write that speech himself. He had a team working with him, and I remember thinking to myself, Wow, that would be really cool to do someday. What if I got a chance to write for somebody like a John F. Kennedy. I remember racing home and telling my mom, “Hey, mom, when I grow up, that’s what I want to do. I want to write speeches.” I remember my mom looking at me and saying, like, “Why are you going to wait until you grow up? Well, just go do that now.” So, I did, I started to ride my bike to the offices of local politicians, and I would ask them if I could write speeches for them. Of course, most of the time, they would say, “look, we’d rather have you stuff envelopes or go knock on doors.”

Suneel Gupta:

Every once in a while somebody would be like, “Yeah, sure, once you put some thoughts down on paper,” and it just sort of built from there. There was a congressman passing through my hometown in Novi, MI. His name was Bart Stupak, and I knew he was going to be at a certain hotel giving a speech, and I knew he was going to be talking about healthcare. I was, I think, 16 years old at the time, and I drove my car to the hotel with this speech in hand, waited for him in the lobby. When he walked into the lobby, I cornered him and said, “Hey, I’ve got some remarks prepared for you tonight.” Completely naive about the idea that like, of course, I mean, he’s giving the speech in the next 15 minutes. He’s got his remarks. He doesn’t need my stuff. I’ll never forget the look of the person who was traveling with him as well, just looking at me, like, “Who is this kid?” Stupak, he just stares at me blankly and he says, “What’s your phone number?” I gave it to him. It’s my home number, not to sell or anything like that. A year-and-a-half later, I get a call from the White House. It’s somebody who’s part of the internship program over there. He says, Congressman Stupak recommended you a while ago; you’ve been in our files for a long time, and how would you like to come do some writing with us this summer? So, yeah, it’s weird, Debbie, but getting back to your question about the word impossible, no, just looking at her story, it was difficult to ever sort of go to her and be like, “I can’t do something.”

Suneel Gupta:

Even more than that, there was always … so she pushed back with, “OK, well, why not at this moment, because we had no idea how life is going to unfold and what’s going to come ahead.” I think that’s the refugee mindset in a lot of ways, which is this sense of impermanence but also possibility. So there’s a sense of urgency that I think comes with everything, right? Don’t take anything for granted. If you want it, then find a way to make it happen sooner rather than later.

Debbie Millman:

I’ve only had two instance over the 16 years I’ve been doing this podcast where in researching my guest, I thought, Wow, I really want to interview this guest’s mother. Actually, no, three times. Three times it’s happened. It’s happened now with Julia Turshen, and I did indeed interviewed her mother, Rochelle Udell, who was a major, major force at Conde Nast for a very long time, and really changed the field of art direction. Lucy Wainwright, whose mother is one of the Roche sisters, so absolutely wanted to do that, and hope to still someday, and now, you. I have an open invitation for your mom to come on Design Matters anytime.

Suneel Gupta:

My mom would love that, and she’s so great at telling stories. She will definitely come on this show.

Debbie Millman:

Wonderful, wonderful. Well, one of the things that you’ve said was … the most important thing that she taught you was the relationship between action and courage. I thought that was really fascinating, and I was wondering if you can share that today?

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah, because I always felt like in order for her to do what she had to do … how do you muster up the courage to do that? How do you … where do you get the resolve to say that I am living in a refugee camp, right, we are living on rations. Yet one day, I’m going to move to the United States and I’m going to become an engineer with Ford Motor Company, right, which at that time was the company of its day. Where do you get that, and where do you get the courage to sort of proceed with a plan like that? And I think that the thing that I misunderstood was that courage leads to action, right? You build up enough courage, and once you cross a certain threshold, you can act. If I unpack my mom’s story, it really is the other way around.

Suneel Gupta:

She acted, and because she acted, she built some courage along the way, and with that little bit of courage, it led to more action, which led to more courage, and it became this cycle, this engine that sort of propelled her forward. What I do today is I spend time studying extraordinary people, and what I found is very much the same pattern, which is that it didn’t really start with, “Let me go away for a while, build a bunch of courage and then act.” It was more kind of like, “Let me just act and then figure it out along the way,” which I know we hear so often, but when you see your own parent, when you see their own stories sort of unfold that way, I think it hits you in a different way.

Debbie Millman:

Suneel, you’ve written about how you grew up in an almost boringly safe suburb, never experiencing anything close to the conditions your mom did, but somehow, you and your brother both inherited her refugee mentality, something you’ve described as a strange mix of impermanence and optimism. I’m wondering if you can also share a little bit more about what that means?

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah, there can be a sense of anxiety that comes, I think, with the refugee mentality, because I think in some ways, it’s sort of this feeling that you’re going to lose everything, right? At the same time, I think the positive, which I think was a huge, huge net benefit, was the sense of, “Well, then anything is available.” It’s almost like this sense of, if you have nothing, then everything is on the table. I think in some ways that is … you mentioned in the beginning the speech that my mom heard when Jawaharlal Nehru, India’s first prime minister, was basically trying to rebuild the country, right? Trying to figure out, now, the country had gotten its independence from Britain. What do we do now? We’re very, very poor. The economy’s in the shambles. Mahatma Gandhi had just been assassinated and Nehru, always, I think, envisioned that Gandhi would be by his side, and they would sort of be figuring this out together. Now he didn’t have his partner. But I think that the thing that she talks to me about when she heard that speech was a sense of, let’s move in whatever direction we think makes sense. Nothing is anchoring us anymore, and in his case, it was, “Hey, why don’t we really invest in math and science and design and creating things and building things? Let’s go do that, right? Why not?” I think that that’s really that sense of impermanence and optimism that you never lose. She brings it into her own career and, yeah, my brother and I are … we were born and raised in suburban Michigan, the conditions were completely different than anything she had ever experienced before. Yet at the same time, when you’re raised by someone who’s been through that, you can’t help but sort of, I think, pick up a little bit of that grit.

Debbie Millman:

Despite the optimism, you’ve talked about the isolation of growing up as one of very few brown skin kids in your neighborhood, and your dad called your family “raisins inside a tub of vanilla swirl ice cream.” What was that like for you?

Suneel Gupta:

One of the decisions that my parents made that always sort of puzzled me was that there were areas of Michigan where there were lots of Indian folks, and yet my parents decided to move to a place where there were literally none. It was just us when we moved there, and I was always puzzled by that—like, why? Especially, I think, as my brother and I got picked on a lot. You’re bullied a lot for that reason for having brown skin, we would ask her, like, “What was behind that decision?” Her response was very much just, “You have to figure this out. If you think that the answer is to go be amongst people who just look like you and think like you, talk like you, that’s just not the way that life works. And either you’re going to learn that lesson right now or you’re going to learn it later on. I’d much rather be here with you as you learn that lesson.”

So it wasn’t easy all the time, but I feel like we kind of did it together as a family. We would talk about it. I think the hardest part, honestly, for me, was … when I talk to people who I think have gone through sort of being different or feeling like the outsider based on the way that they look, one of the things that I often pick up is that there tends to be an age where that doesn’t matter, and then, all of a sudden, you get to an age where all of a sudden it seems like it does. For me, that was in 1991, because in ’91 we went to war with Iraq. This was Desert Storm, and it was exhilarating for the kids in my class, especially the boys. It was an exhilarating moment because they’d never seen anything like that before, right, and all of a sudden now on television, we’re watching this war sort of unfold, short war. It happens to be that the people who we’re sort of going to war with look a lot like me. I think in some ways, people felt like it was their patriotic duty to sort of give the brown kid a hard time. That’s when it got a little bit rough.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, how did you manage?

Suneel Gupta:

I managed a lot by, I think, learning to just kind of be by myself. I think being more comfortable with that, which I don’t necessarily look at that as a bad thing. I do look back on those experiences and feel like … I wish it would have been a little bit different for that kid, but I also know that because I was able to find, I think, some sort of grounding, some centering by myself, I think that it just served me very well. I’ve been able to come back to that place through other things that have come up. If you look at my sort of bio on LinkedIn, you’re going to see the success, but you’re not going to see all the failures, and there are many of them. It was during those moments where I think there’s a lot of value of being able to come back to yourself, and learning that at an early age was a gift.

Debbie Millman:

I love the way you look at it. It is really quite optimistic. So I see your mother’s influence there for sure. You earned a Bachelor of Science degree from the University of Michigan, and then took an IT job in downtown Detroit, and you’ve written this about the experience: “The pay was decent, but each day was the same as the last, troubleshooting issues, building spreadsheets and maintaining databases. It was simple, mind-numbing work.” Then, you go on to describe how you were waiting for someone to point in your direction and say, “that kid is a star. Let’s find a better way to make use of his talents.” But it didn’t happen, and in the sea of cubicles, you sat at your desk waiting to be discovered. I have to tell you, Suneel, I’ve often heard about people sort of waiting to be discovered. I remember somebody very close to me describing how she was waiting to be discovered because she had ballerina feet, and she was waiting to be discovered as a dancer. Why do so many people do this? Why do they hope and wait and maybe expect that they will be revealed to the world?

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah. Such a good question. When I was in graduate school, I had this marketing professor who said something that I just … I don’t know why, but it just really stuck with me. What she said was … on the first day of class, she said, “I pay attention to the exams, of course, but I also really pay attention to the way that you engage with the class. That really matters to me.” She said, “You know what, you might be brilliant but if you don’t say anything, then I won’t have any idea.” That just stuck with me, because I think it’s true. I think in a lot of ways we’re sort of waiting to be called on before we sort of speak up, and I don’t know why we expect it. I don’t know necessarily why I expected it. I think it is a very privileged position that I try not to take any more, privileged posture.

Suneel Gupta:

This idea that like somebody is going to say, “Hey, you know what, we’ve been underutilizing that person. I bet you that person is very brilliant over there.” The one thing I hear very often from the students that I work with is, “I’m not having the impact that I want to have, right?” In order to have that impact, they’re sort of waiting for somebody to say, “Hey, let’s put you in a position where you can have impact because we think you can do so much more.” So, we get stuck in that position.

Debbie Millman:

When you were in that position, you did what you described as what a lot of people do when they feel directionless: You decided to go to law school.

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

No offense to any lawyers that really love practicing law, and I know a bunch. Were you at all excited about becoming a lawyer at that point, or was it one of the, “I have to be a lawyer, a doctor, an engineer,” kind of moments?

Suneel Gupta:

It definitely was a, “Let me go do something that I feel like might make my parents somewhat proud.” I kind of knew in the back of my mind that, no, I don’t think I want to practice law, because to your point, there are so many people out there, especially I met in law school, who are all about that. That’s what they wanted to do. They had a passion for that. In Hindu terms, that was their Dharma, but it wasn’t mine. So when people started to look for work, I started to look in very unconventional places, and I started to set my eyes on, could I go out to a place like Silicon Valley where people are making things, people are building things, and be a part of that?

Debbie Millman:

You also got an MBA from the Kellogg School of Management. So, in looking at your timeline, I know you did like all of your education in six years. Were you doing your MBA and getting your degree in law concurrently?

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah, yeah, so Northwestern had, at that point, recently rolled out a program where you could do an MBA and a JD in three years. So you spend your first year in law school and then your second year is predominantly at the business school, and then your third year is at the law school again. So it’s pretty condensed, but the nice thing is that you do it with a group of people. So I had 15 or so people who were doing the exact same program with me. So even though it was tougher at times, you never felt alone.

Debbie Millman:

You were sworn in by Justice Roberts to practice law in front of the United States Supreme Court. As you were finishing your degree, you received a job offer from what you’ve described as a chest-thumping corporate firm based in midtown Manhattan. The signing bonus itself was twice the salary you were earning in Detroit. You got a sinking feeling that taking that job would send you back to the same headspace you were in before you went to law school. So you turned down the offer and began cold-calling people in Silicon Valley. You just mentioned that that became interesting to you. What about the atmosphere in Silicon Valley, and the work that was happening there, was intriguing you, especially after spending those three years studying law and business administration?

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah, I think it very much was about creating something from scratch, as you’ve talked about on the show a lot, the difference between building something from zero to one versus just optimizing what’s already there. For me, there’s nothing wrong with optimizing, by the way. There are people who do that very, very well. I guess I’ve always kind of been the kind of person who’s sort of has felt like, what’s not out there right now that could be out there? And it’s just not the way that I was finding that, certainly law firms, tend to think, right? We’re working with established companies, we’re working with established clients that need to solve a very specific problem in order to make their business just a little bit better, or to de-risk it just a little bit more.

That just didn’t appeal to me as much as this idea of like, what can we build? What can we do? I had such admiration for people who wrote lines of code, who built things, who were able to do that. I was also just getting a keen awareness … iPhone had just launched right around the time that I was starting to prepare to graduate. I thought to myself, gosh, things are just getting created so quickly now. If I compare sort of what’s happening now to the way that my parents work … my parents were both engineers. They both worked for Ford Motor Company, and I remember, they would work on projects for years, like literally years, before anybody would ever take a look at their work. I still remember driving to the auto show that took place in Detroit every year.

It was like my dad would tell me, “Hey, inside that car is a part that I had been working on now for like three-and-a-half years, and today is going to be the day that we sort of unveil that.” What really fascinated me about what was happening, I think, in tech at the time, was like, people were literally developing things during a lunch break and posting their code and having it be used by the end of the day. That was intoxicating to me.

Debbie Millman:

I believe that your first Silicon Valley job was director of product development for Mozilla, the maker of Firefox—but I believe your first job out of law school was actually as a writer for MTV, for which you worked there, I think, for about a year. Is that correct?

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah. Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

Tell me how that fits in with this sort of life goal that you had at the time.

Suneel Gupta:

It’s always been a little bit weird, Debbie, and it’s always hard to sort of make sense of it myself, especially if I’m describing it to my family. They’re like, “Wait, what?” I’ve always kind of jumped back and forth between the worlds of writing, which I’ve always loved, and I spent time as a writer before I went to graduate school.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, for the DNC, right?

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah, for the Democratic National Committee. Yeah. Then, when I was working at Mozilla, I wanted to … I still wanted to write, and MTV had this role where they were … where we’re creating something new around content focused on people with brown skin. I was kind of moonlighting that job while I was working at Mozilla. I felt like I was sort of scratching both my itches. I had the technologies, sort of more analytical side of the world during the day, and I got to do more of the sort of creative fresh type of stuff at night. The writing began in 2004; I got a job at the Democratic National Committee as a writer. One of the stories that is stuck with me, I think, in a lot of ways, is probably just the basis of what it is I tried to do each day, was that I’m sitting backstage and there’s a guy that nobody recognizes who’s about to give a speech.

Suneel Gupta:

He’s a state senator from Illinois, and Barack Obama gets up and gives that speech, and I got to watch it from backstage. What I saw was just this … I get the chills even just talking about it. There’s almost this tidal wave of energy that just sort of ripped through the stadium, and I became one of, I think, millions of young people that night, I became really fascinated with Obama’s story. Who is this? Who is this guy? He was running for senate at the time. Whereas I started to unpack his story, which is what I love to do now, unpack people’s stories, understand sort of what was the arc of it. You do this way better than I do. I’m learning from you.

Debbie Millman:

Hardly.

Suneel Gupta:

What I found, though, was really surprising, which was that four years prior to that speech, he had run for Congress, and he lost.

Debbie Millman:

He lost.

Suneel Gupta:

He lost by a huge margin, a two-to-one margin. It wasn’t close. But the thing that surprised me even more than that, was the way that he was received during that campaign. People described him as stilted—

Debbie Millman:

Professorial.

Suneel Gupta:

Professorial. Yeah, there was a reporter named Ted McClelland who followed him around during that campaign, shadowed him, who wrote that Barack Obama is so dry that he sucks up all of the air out of the room.

Debbie Millman:

It’s crazy.

Suneel Gupta:

Then, four years later, he is this bastion of hope and energy and inspiration. That to me was just the most inspiring thing, which is not necessarily that, “Wow, I was seeing this person who clearly was a rising star.” What was most inspiring to me was sort of this moment of … I call it reinvention or turnaround or whatever it was. I wanted to kind of focus more on that, what happened during those four years and really, that’s how I spend my time today. I try to go to these sort of moments where we don’t really pay much attention to, because we kind of assume that the people that we admire have always sort of been that way. If you rewind the clock, I try to find these almost dips in their experience where it’s like, “No, things actually were going very poorly, and here’s what they did. Here are the adjustments that they made to get to where they are today.”

Debbie Millman:

That is what is endlessly fascinating for me. You did that over and over. While you were at Mozilla, you initially were hired to work on legal matters but you found yourself drawn to the engineering and design areas of the business. You talk about how you were finally given a chance to lead and launch a new product feature for Firefox, but you don’t really talk about how you did it. How you actually got that chance. You certainly were hanging around and showed that you were interested, but what was the catalyst to making that happen?

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah, I mean, I asked for it. One of the things I think I’m pretty decent at is sort of just … if I look at somebody’s workflow, how are people working, I tend to sort of kind of be the person who says, “Well, what about … could we do that? Maybe that could be a little bit different or could that improve things?” Which is interesting because that’s, what I just described to you, is the job of an optimizer, and I don’t like to optimize, but in this case, what I was doing is I was watching these brilliant engineers and designers work. What I was finding is that they were sort of putting things into spreadsheets, and sort of tracking their work in pretty disjointed ways because they were focusing on doing what they were doing, which was writing code and creating designs. So, it started out as, “Hey, could I actually just organize this a little bit for you?”

Suneel Gupta:

I think whenever you’re not really asking for something—you’re not asking for a title, you’re not asking for a role—but you’re saying, “Hey, do you mind if I just … could I do this, and if you like it, great, and if you don’t, then throw it out?” That’s kind of what I did. I went to the head of that time of Mozilla Labs, a guy named Chris Beard, who ended up eventually becoming the CEO, and asked him, and he’s like, “Sure, knock yourself out.” I mean, there’s no sort of pressure for him at that point in time to give me anything. I think when I started to organize things, I think that what he saw was, A, I was a pretty collaborative person. I think the other thing he saw was just a curiosity. I was very curious about what they were doing, and then the reason that matters is because I can help other people get interested in it as well. In some ways, the job of a product manager is, how do we take all this cool stuff that we’re building on the inside and make it intriguing to people on the outside? That’s why I ended up getting the shot.

Debbie Millman:

It’s so interesting to compare the instinct to wait for something to happen, to wait to be discovered, versus asking for something. I have to say, there’s maybe been three instances that I can think of off the top of my head where I was just offered something. Two of those three things were from the same person, whereas 99.9% of everything I’ve ever been able to do was because I had to ask for it.

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

It takes a lot of courage to do that. Although, I wouldn’t have thought of that at the time, I think that I’ve come to that conclusion in reading your book sort of that … taking that risk to ask—

Suneel Gupta:

OK, I have to ask this. Was there one moment in particular where you sort of realized that you didn’t want to ask but you realized you had to?

Debbie Millman:

Not until after. Not until after. Now, I give that advice a lot to my students—you have to ask, you have to ask, as you get older and find that the waiting isn’t really working.

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

If you really want something you have to take action. You have to.

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah, yeah. Tell me if this resonates, too. When I talk to people who are sure to kind of … I think waiting, one of the things I also hear is that “I’m not ready. I’m not ready yet.” I’m not ready tend to be sort of the three words. “I’m not ready to step into that role.” “I’m not ready to speak my mind.” “I’m not ready to run with that idea.” “I’m not ready.” I’m often asked with the people that I was studying and interviewing for my book, was there one thing? Was there one common denominator amongst all of these extraordinary people, and I would say that, yeah, the common denominator is that none of them were really ready. I could not find a single situation where it was like, “Yup, that person was completely ready to go do what they did.”

Three friends from design school were not ready to start Airbnb, a mid-level talent manager wasn’t ready to start Soulcycle, a 15-year-old from Stockholm, Sweden, wasn’t ready to build an environmental movement, but today, Greta Thunberg is Time magazine’s youngest ever Person of the Year. There were setbacks and there were failures along the way, of course, but I think the mantra that either consciously or unconsciously, most of the people that I study seem to adopt, is that the opposite of success is not failure, it’s boredom.

Debbie Millman:

I also say that the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference. I think it’s sort of the same thing. The opposite of success isn’t failure. It’s boredom and mediocrity, I think, when you’re just too afraid to take that risk. But one thing about sort of that notion of being ready, that I think is so important to also acknowledge, is that, that sense of readiness usually comes when you feel like you’re not going to have fear about it anymore. That’s never going to happen.

Suneel Gupta:

Never.

Debbie Millman:

Because anything uncertain really does kick up that reptilian part of the brain, and you can’t ever, ever get rid of that. Uncertainty is just the place where that fear lives, and you just can’t ever get rid of that, in the same way you couldn’t ever expect that if you were confronted by something terrorizing, you would feel the adrenaline rush that just happens instinctually.

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah, yeah. In some ways, it reminds me a lot of what you’ve talked about in the past, which is this idea of competence versus courage. I mean, you can wait to build confidence, and what I’ve kind of realized, at least for myself, is that that doesn’t really happen, especially when it comes to new things. I think you said, the idea of confidence comes from repeating something over and over again.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, the successful repetition of any endeavor.

Suneel Gupta:

That’s how you build confidence, but you can’t necessarily have confidence in that case for anything that’s brand new to you. So, waiting to have confidence, to go tackle something that’s different, that moment may never come, which comes back to sort of like, you can wait to be discovered and that moment will never come.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, if not now, when?

Suneel Gupta:

If not now, what not now, when?

Debbie Millman:

If not now, when? So you said that after years of working inside other startups, whether it be Groupon or Mozilla, you realize that what you really wanted you had been afraid to do, so what was that?

Suneel Gupta:

I wanted to start my own company. I wanted to put myself out there, and I was afraid to do that. I think that especially when you’re part of another organization that’s doing pretty well, you can get a lot of credit that sometimes maybe you don’t deserve. When Groupon was doing well, at that time, I was the first head of product development that was hired there. There were all these articles being written and I was getting thrown in, as like, “Hey, this guy must be a star,” and I remember thinking to myself like, not really. I think I’m pretty capable. I’m learning as I go but I’m certainly getting a lot more credit than I deserve because I feel like I’m part of this rocket ship right now. If I put myself out there, with my own thing, then it’s just me. It’s just me. I don’t have anything to ride off of, and that really scared me.

Debbie Millman:

At that point, you had what you believed was a winning idea for your own business. Can you share what it was?

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah. So the idea was … at that time, Airbnb was starting to hit its stride, Uber was starting to hit its stride, and I thought to myself, why isn’t more of this happening in the field of healthcare? What can we do with the many, many, I think talented healthcare professionals who are out there right now that might be sort of wanting to do more, have more impact? That was kind of the problem space I was thinking about, but more than that, it was really just going back to a story that I continue to think about, about my father, who, when he was in his 40s, had a triple bypass surgery. It was emergency. By the time I got to school that day, my aunt picked me up, took me to the hospital. I remember seeing him and he looked like he aged 20 years overnight.

I remember when we were on our way back to our house, a few days later, they’ve given us some paperwork. Part of the paperwork was how to eat at home, and listed on that sheet was sort of the dos and don’ts. It had things like “eat broccoli,” “eat Brussels sprouts.” I remember thinking to myself, like, we don’t eat broccoli. We don’t eat Brussels sprouts. We eat Indian food. I remember thinking to myself, This isn’t going to really work for my dad, and it didn’t. He had a very difficult time, as many of us do, trying to adopt a different lifestyle, trying to change our own behavior. It was lucky for us, finally, at the hospital, I was like, “Look, we have to find a program that’s going to work for you.” Insurance ended up kicking in and we ended up getting the help of a nutritionist, who really helped customize our lifestyle into something that was going to work.

We could still be Indian. We could eat Indian food, but we could do it in a healthy way. I believe that that nutritionist is a big part of the reason that my dad is alive today. So the idea for my startup RISE was we could match you one on one with a personal nutritionist over your mobile phone, give you the same quality of care, but we could do it at a fraction of the cost because we could just be … we could be a lot more efficient, using mobile. So, that was the idea.

Debbie Millman:

So as much as it was and is a great idea, you were struggling to get other people excited about it. You started to feel at the time the same frustration that you had back when you were sitting in that cubicle in Detroit. In the meantime, you were contacted by the organizer of an event called The Failure Conference, or Fail Con, where you’ve been repeatedly nominated to speak, and you agreed to be the keynote. But moments before your speech, you began to question your life choices. Not a great time to have that epiphany. How did that impact your talk? Because that really, if you look at the arc of your life, it was one of those defining moments.

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah. I mean, it’s a humbling experience when someone calls you and says, “Hey, we’re doing this conference on failure, and we would love for you to be the keynote speaker.” I thought to myself, I’ve been trying to craft, as some of us do, this image of success, and things don’t seem to really be falling into place for me right now. And I’m about to go talk about that pretty openly. I think that today it’s a little bit different, because failure, I think, is talked about a little bit more now than it was before. This is 2012 when I gave that speech. I felt like, All right, well, now I’m going to end up being sort of the failure guy, which totally ended up being the case.

Debbie Millman:

There was a reporter in the audience for that speech. She ended up writing a huge story on failure in The New York Times, prominently featuring you. It went viral and you ultimately had to change your identity from that “fake it until you make it” attitude of success to being honest about what you did and didn’t know. How did that article change your life?

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah. There was a time where you could literally Google “failure,” and my face would have been one of your top search results. A friend of mine that I spoke to around the time kind of reminded me of a lesson that we’ve learned when we were kids. We used to go to temple together, and the priest that we would see would often talk about … he talked about Hinduism, but he talked about Buddhism as well. I remember there was a parable that he shared with us from the Buddha, and it was that when you feel pain of any kind, two arrows are shot. The first arrow is the arrow that punctures your skin, and there’s nothing you can really do about that arrow. You’re going to feel the pain. The second arrow is the arrow where you really ascribe meaning to that pain.

It’s where you decide that you want to do something with it. That arrow is very much up to us. That’s our choice. He motivated me in some ways of like, what could I actually do with this. One of the things I decided to do was I started to email people I admired but had never had a chance to talk to. I would email them and I would actually include the link to the article and I would say, “As you can see, I have no idea what I’m doing right now, but would you be willing to grab coffee with me or jump on the phone with me?” The response rate to that email was extraordinarily high. I think more important than that, was that because it wasn’t an email that was sort of, I think, espoused in success—it wasn’t somebody who was trying to impress, it just opened the gateway to just really honest conversations.

I was surprised that people were, I think, as willing and actually wanted to share their own failure story, because people don’t really ask that. I think that we … again, we craft these images that almost hide that stuff, but there’s some really, really interesting stories there, and I was starting to hear those stories. That ultimately ended up becoming the foundation for, I think, how I spent the next several years.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, I mean, they weren’t mercy meetings; people weren’t meeting you because they felt sorry for you. They were really interested, and that provided an epiphany that changed the way you see everything. People who change the world aren’t just brilliant, they’re backable, and ultimately gave you the runway to write this remarkable book. Talk about what being backable actually means.

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah, yeah, I was finding that there are certain people who have this almost mysterious it quality. It seems to be this ability to walk into a room and really just inspire people to take action. The trick of it is, I think the most important thing is, it’s when it’s not necessarily obvious. When you can walk in with the obvious sort of like, “this absolutely we need to do, I have all of the data, I have all of the proof”—that’s not necessarily a backable moment. A backable moment is when we don’t know. We actually have to take a bit of a leap of faith here on you. We have to take a leap of faith on your idea. We still feel inspired to do that. It really kind of cuts to this idea that I just didn’t understand at the time, which is that creativity and persuasion are two different things.

You can have a brilliant idea, and you can still be dismissed. At the same time, by the way, it works the other way. You can have ideas that aren’t necessarily all that great, that don’t necessarily do a lot of good. We’ve seen plenty of documentaries on some of these lately. Yet that person is incredibly backable. They have that it quality. What I thought to myself as I was starting to kind of watch more … what was happening with Theranos, what was happening with the Fyre Festival, and later on what was happening with WeWork—I thought to myself, we need more high-integrity people in the world who know how to sell a good idea, and maybe this book can provide a little bit of a framework. One person that I sort of continued to keep in mind, even though it’s an older story, is a guy named Bob Ebeling. Ebeling was an engineer on the Space Shuttle Challenger.

The day before the Challenger went up, he actually was looking at some of the data and he found that, “Look, this is actually a little bit too dangerous.” Overnight, conditions are going to change. The temperature is going to drop and it’s going to put things at risk. So he does what I think most of us would do. He calls a meeting. He gets his colleagues into a room and he presents sort of his findings, and then he presents a recommendation, which was, let’s just delay this thing. And he was dismissed. The Challenger goes up the next morning, disintegrates within 90 seconds, killing everybody on board. Ebeling ended up spending the rest of his life blaming himself for that. He gave an interview with NPR where he said, “God should not have chosen me for that role, because I had the information, but I didn’t have the persuasive ability to get everybody bought into what I had to say. God should have chosen someone else.”

So I think that we may not have the drama of a Bob Ebeling, but I think we can all, I think, relate to that, where it’s like, we feel inside that we have something to offer, but the people that we’re sharing it with are not nearly as excited about it as we are. There’s something missing there, and that’s where this book really aims to come in.

Debbie Millman:

You used to consider people who were backable to be that way naturally—it was a talent you either had or you didn’t. Now you know it can be learned. How did you realize that?

Suneel Gupta:

I think it’s by rewinding the clock and realizing that the people that they are today aren’t the people they were in the past. They had gone through these failures. They had gone through these rejections, and what inspired me to write the book … because if I found that these people were all naturals, there would be nothing to write here, right? Just either have it or you don’t. But what I found is that there was a series of adjustments that they made. What really got me excited is that these adjustments actually weren’t that big. The way that I put that to practice, to test, was I was actually out there pitching my own idea, and I was getting rejected by every investor that I was pitching. So as I was learning these techniques, I was just putting them … I was bringing them right into the pitch room and realizing that, “Hey, I’m getting a little bit of a different response now.”

Debbie Millman:

So it essentially revealed to you at the time that your idea for RISE, your business idea, wasn’t a bad idea. You were just sharing it in a way that wasn’t really getting backers excited. So how did you change your pitch to essentially raising the money that you needed, to launching RISE and serving over a thousand patients, Apple naming it the best new app of the year, and then First Lady Michelle Obama asking you to be on her technology team and becoming her official technology partner in the Obama White House? So just share with me a little bit how you adjusted your own pitch for that monumental success.

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah, yeah. One of the things that I think was really important was the way that I talked about my dad’s story, the story that I shared with you before. My thought was that going to pitch sort of analytical, Silicon Valley sort of folks, it’s all going to be about the numbers. It’s all going to be about the data. It was very much focused on the increasing rates of diabetes and hypertension, and obesity, and how large a market we were really going after, right?

Debbie Millman:

Right.

Suneel Gupta:

I remember, one of the people that I ended up speaking to was Tim Ferriss.

Debbie Millman:

Yes.

Suneel Gupta:

What I did is, again, I spent all this time talking about the market size, and at the very end, I told a story about my dad. Then Tim says to me, “why did you save that story to the very end? Why did you make it a footnote? You should tell that story up front and then you can zoom out and you can talk about the numbers. You can talk about the millions of people who are out there, who are going through their own version of your father’s story.” I mean, he shared with me that when he did that for his book, by the way, with The 4-Hour Workweek, how when he changed from having to write for a mass market to changing to writing for just one friend, how it made his writing sharper, how before he had been turned down by over 25 publishers but now when he was writing for one friend, publishers ate it up.

The point he was trying to make and what we talk about in the book is the power of, I think, casting a central character for your idea. One person that you are trying to serve, and making sure that you never forget about that one person. You’re bringing them to the forefront of your pitch. We talk a lot about storytelling in business; I think it’s kind of become sort of an in-vogue term. But storytelling is not getting up and saying, “once upon a time, so and so happened,” and sort of leaving. You have to marry it with substance as well, right? In this case, it’s the story that brings you in, but it’s the substance that really keeps you there. Again, when I just made that shift, when I started telling my dad’s story first, what … I could just see that inside the room, people were engaged in a way that they weren’t before.

Now they wanted to learn more, and I found by the way that was a reoccurring theme. Kirsten Green, who runs a venture capital firm named Forerunner Ventures, she was one of the first investors in the Dollar Shave Club, and I asked her, like, “Why did you invest in that business?” She said, “Well, the reality is that when I got that pitch deck, I had zero interest in investing, zero. In fact, I said no.” But when she met Michael Dubin just happenstance at a party, the founder of the club, he walked up to her to share more about the idea. She told me, she was like, “Oh, god, I’m going to hear the same thing that was in the deck.” He didn’t even bring up any of the numbers. Instead, he walked her through the customer experience. He said, “Today, you have these 20-something males who care a lot more about their health than their father ever did. That means what they put in their body, also what they put on their body; they’re very used to convenience. They’re used to buying things online, but when it comes to razor blades, that all kind of goes out the door. They walk into a pharmacy. They’ve got to sort of locate where the razor blades are; oftentimes it’s behind literally a security case, so you have to push a button and you have to wait for somebody to come find you in the aisle. By the way, now everybody is sort of staring at you, and behind that lock case are things like condoms and laxatives, and no one knows what you’re leaning there to buy.” She’s like, the whole thing just … it doesn’t make sense. For Kirsten, who by the way is like a former Wall Street analyst, who loves the numbers, was like, that’s the thing. It was that story that sort of pulled her in. It got her engaged. So I know it sounds simple, but oftentimes we save the stories to the very end or sometimes we don’t tell them at all. Just making that simple shift of telling the story first, and then talking about the market, made a huge difference.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, it reminds me … my dad also had triple bypass; he’s since passed away but after his surgery, we also had to dramatically change his diet, dramatically. He was so unhappy with it and we ended up finding slews of sweets in the glove compartment of his car, because he was hiding it and still eating it. But it would have been really helpful to have something like that when he was alive.

Suneel Gupta:

It’s so interesting, because my parents would work late. So they come home, and that meant we wouldn’t eat until probably around 8, 8:30 or so. This was a late meal, and we go to bed pretty soon after; it’s by 10:00, so it wasn’t a lot of time in between. This is one simple thing that we ended up doing, was we started making these low-fat lassis. Have you ever had lassi at a restaurant, an Indian restaurant? It’s basically yogurt and water, and you can mix in some other things, but ours was like a low-fat sort of low-sugar version. It’s like yogurt and water with some spices in. We would always have that in the fridge. So when they came home from work, the first thing that he would do is he’d have a glass of that. He was eating much less.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, it changes everything.

Suneel Gupta:

Which is that simple thing.

Debbie Millman:

You took RISE to the next level. In 2016, One Medical, a thriving healthcare company, acquired RISE from multiple times its original value. I have to say I’m a member of One Medical. So I really love that app and the brand. You’ve since gone on to become an entrepreneur and residence at the VC firm Kleiner Perkins; you’re also currently a visiting scholar at Harvard University. What made you decide to write your book? What made you decide to write Backable?

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah, I think it still all comes back to that story in 2004, with Barack Obama, and just realizing it’s just this moment, the way that people are today is in some ways an assumption that we say that they have always been that way, and realizing that that wasn’t the case. It just made me excited about the idea that, like, “Hey, there’s some stories out there that just haven’t been told before.” I find them everywhere. I worked in politics. I spent some time working in Hollywood. I spent time working in tech, and I just had this like endless curiosity for, “OK, you’re successful right now. That’s great, fantastic. Let’s rewind the clock a little bit. What’s the Version 1 of you like, and then let’s talk about how we went from Version 1 to where we are today.”

Debbie Millman:

You declare that everyone is within striking distance of becoming backable, and we just need to make adjustments to our style without sacrificing what makes us who we are. The book details several adjustments or steps, and we talked a little bit … we hinted at that they course-corrected both your life and career, and I really do think that they can help a lot of people do the same with theirs. But Step 1 is to convince yourself first, and you go on to state that what moves people isn’t charisma, it’s conviction. So I’m wondering if you can elaborate on that a little bit.

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah, definitely. One of the assumptions that I made when I started doing this research was that Backable people were going to have a certain style of communication. They were going to, for the most part, speak with compelling hand gestures and they create eye contact and just sort of have more of a, almost a Toastmasters-esque or Dale Carnegie-esque way about them.

Debbie Millman:

Yes.

Suneel Gupta:

I found that very quickly to not be the case. In fact, I would say that now the vast majority of the people that I studied for the book don’t talk that way, and they don’t have sort of classic communication styles. One quick example of that is if you go look up the No. 1 most popular TED talk of all time, and one of my favorite speakers, the late Sir Ken Robinson, who gives his brilliant talk on education. When you watch it, he has one hand in his pocket, he meanders on and off script, but it’s a brilliant talk. I found that to be more the case, which is that backable people take the time to convince themselves first, and then they let that conviction shine through with whatever speaking style it is that feels most natural to them.

Debbie Millman:

Step 2 is to cast a central character, and I think we’ve been talking about that, with you casting your dad or me casting my dad, but talk about what it means for others.

Suneel Gupta:

With anything that we’re doing, I think having the ability to be representing someone who’s other than you, it’s so important. I ended up talking to a lot to agents, people who represented other people—sports agents, talent agents—when I was writing this book. One of the things I noticed is that when they were in the room, representing their client, they were a lot more confident than when they were in the room representing themselves.

Debbie Millman:

Absolutely. I totally understand that. Yeah.

Suneel Gupta:

Right, and I think that even though we’re not all necessarily agents by profession, we can all, I think, put ourselves in that mindset, which is that no matter what it is we’re doing, no matter what type of work it is, there’s always somebody else that we are there for. Sometimes we can forget that. When I was at Groupon, early days, our central character was the small mom and pop shop, and there was this small business owner. I still remember, when I went to go interview for that role and when I spoke to Andrew Mason, who is the founder, CEO of the company, he took me on a walk around downtown Chicago. He pointed to these different shops. He knew each of these shop owners by name. He told me their stories. “Jim is a baker. He grew up baking with his mom and he had that craftsman early age.” Right?

He was just telling me his really compelling stories. That was a central character and I remember thinking to myself, I have to work at this company. Right? I have to. And when we’re in the office, that’s all we talked about. When we looked at the walls, it was the stories of these small business owners, and it wasn’t done in like a cheesy way. We really did believe that. As we started to grow as a company, especially as we started to think about going public, the focus shifted from that central character to quarterly earnings. What are the things going to look like to shareholders now? And because we lost that focus, I think that our business really, really suffered. We lost 80% of our market value within months, and some of our best talent ended up leaving.

If you compare that to I think some of the other organizations we see out there that really keep like in touch with their central character … I’ve been going to the Airbnb office to spend time ever since they were in their first-ever spot in Potrero Hill. I remember they had a storyboard up on the wall of what their guests go through, and what their host go through. It was literally a frame by frame of the experience, so that designers and engineers and business people could go to that storyboard together and say, “Hey, this is the part of the experience that we’re sort of thinking about,” or “here’s the part where we think could be reinvented a little bit.” It was just his brilliant, beautiful way of making sure that every time you walk into the office, you knew who you were there for.

Every time you walk into a meeting, you knew who you were there, representing. So whomever it is, right, it could be just bringing to mind a very clear image of that person who is other than you, that you were there to serve. I think just can do wonders for your … the way you can convince others to get behind an idea.

Debbie Millman:

Step 3 is to find an earned secret. What does that mean?

Suneel Gupta:

One of the people that I studied for the book was Brian Grazer. He’s this prolific filmmaker, he’s won over 130 Emmys and dozens of Oscars. He also invests in technology companies, and he runs large teams. So when I was in his waiting room, there were people there ready to pitch him on everything, apply for jobs, film ideas, technology companies. I said to him, “Brian, there’s a lot of nervous people out in that waiting room right now, and if I could have given them one piece of advice on how to be prepared for this meeting, what would it be?” He thinks for a moment. He says, “Give me something that I can’t easily find on Google.” I thought that was so interesting, because great interviews, great pitches, great presentations, they tend to be based on an insight.

They tend to be based on something that you have gone out into the world and you have found through firsthand experience. By the way, it doesn’t necessarily need to be a revolutionary finding. One of the key things about having an earned secret is that you earned it. You put yourself out into the field. You did it yourself. Shortly after my book launch, somebody contacted me. She’s a mom and she’s returning to the workforce, and she was applying for a job at a social media company. The thing is, that it was very much not a product that she used. Her kids used the product, but she didn’t. So she was trying to prepare for the interview and she was like, “How do I do this?” What she did was really clever, I think.

She decided to interview every single one of her daughter’s friends. What do you like about the experience? What do you not like about the experience? Then she had them send her screenshots, these little moments that they loved or wish were different. She takes her phone with her to this interview, which is over Zoom, it’s during the pandemic. Now, instead of just having her background, her bio, she shows this hiring manager this gallery of moments, these screenshots that she’s collected through her research. This hiring manager is so impressed that not only does she get the job, but right in the middle of the meeting, he ends up patching in one of their UX designers so that they could see some of this stuff, right? I asked her, like, “How much time did it take you to really prepare for this?”

Her answer with me was less than two hours, less than two hours to do all of that. All the interviews, packaging it all together. It just wasn’t all that much, but the point is that she sort of, in some ways, followed a very simple framework that I think backable people follow, which is like, what would most people do in this situation? What’s the kind of research most people would do? Then, how do I put myself one step further into the story?

Debbie Millman:

One of my favorite anecdotes in your book is when you talk about how when you were working on RISE, you stood outside Weight Watchers meetings and as people arrived, you ask them if you could show them a quick demo. That’s how you found your first customers.

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

I just think that’s brilliant. I want to jump to Step 5, which is to flip outsiders to insiders. In telling us what that means, I was wondering if you could share my second favorite anecdote in the book, which is the instant cake mix anecdote, please.

Suneel Gupta:

Of course, of course. Yeah. In the 1940s, Betty Crocker came up with this idea for instant cake mix. All you had to do was pour water into a mix, and then pop it in the oven, and voila, you get this really tasty treat. So they were very confident that this was going to be a huge mega bestseller product. So they were very confused when they found out that people were not buying these instant cake mixes. They could not figure out why. So they hire this psychologist, a guy by the name of Ernest Dichter, to go out to the field and start talking to customers. What Dichter comes back to the executives at Betty Crocker with is, “I think you have made the process of making a cake too easy, too simple.”

Debbie Millman:

All they had to do is add water.

Suneel Gupta:

It’s all they had to do.

Debbie Millman:

Right, nothing else.

Suneel Gupta:

It’s all they had to do, they add water and say it was so easy that when the cake actually came out of the oven, they actually didn’t really feel a sense of ownership over that cake; they didn’t really feel like they had made that cake. So Dichter’s recommendation was really simple: Why don’t you remove one ingredient and just see what happens, one key ingredient? So they do, they remove the egg. Now, as a customer, you have to go out, you have to buy fresh eggs, come back, crack it into the mix, mix it in and then you pop it into the oven. Sales just completely skyrocket. They completely take off. So much so that Betty Crocker ends up building their entire advertising and marketing campaign around the idea that you crack in your own egg, right?

You’re still part of the process, and researchers have unpacked I think this idea over and over again; there’s a group out of Harvard that called this “the IKEA effect,” which basically says that we place up to five times the amount of value on something that we help build than something that we simply buy off the shelf. So, if you think about “what does this have anything to do with creativity or building things?” I think we’ve kind of been told that innovation is a two-step formula—you come up with a great idea and then you execute on it really well. There’s a hidden step in between, right? This hidden step is where you bring in early people. You bring in early employees, early colleagues, where they can actually crack their own egg into the mix, where they can actually feel like it’s their creation as well, right?

I think you can trace literally every successful organization, every successful product, every successful political movement, back to this hidden step. We know that. It was never just one person who came up with an idea and ran it all the way down the flagpole. It was always a group of people who felt almost founder-level ownership over the idea, even though they didn’t come up with it themselves.

Debbie Millman:

So you’ve discovered that people tend to fight the hardest for ideas that they feel some sense of ownership for and with.

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

So for somebody that is trying to get their own idea off the ground or pitch themselves in a way that is more successful, how do you foster this? How can people sort of find their own egg?

Suneel Gupta:

Yeah, yeah. Well, I think it’s about how do you give the person on the other side of the table, the person that you’re talking to, how do you hand them an egg? How do you actually have them crack their own egg into the mix? One of the ways that we do that is by falling in love with a problem, but not necessarily always falling in love with the solution. One of the mistakes that I used to make going into rooms is that I would walk in with everything figured out, a fully baked plan, right? Then, I would ask people to buy in. This didn’t just happen as an entrepreneur, by the way. This happened when I was working inside companies and I was having to rally people who didn’t think necessarily like me. They were part of different departments. They were in charge of different metrics.

I wanted them to rally around what I had to say, and so I’d walk in with these bulletproof plans, and I would say, “Hey, are you with me?” Oftentimes, the answer was, funnily, no. Actually, we’re not with you. What I found is that instead of walking in with a fully baked plan, walking in with some semblance of what something could be, but not necessarily how it has to be, right? In other words, sharing just enough, you can get across like the problem that you’re trying to solve, but then open it up to the creative possibilities that come up inside the room. Now, I always have to caveat this, because it doesn’t mean that because you’re walking in and sharing 20%, that you’re only 20% prepared. You’re actually 100% prepared. What I have found is that it takes a lot more preparation to have a discussion than to have a presentation.

Debbie Millman:

Yes.

Suneel Gupta:

The second thing I’ll throw in just very quickly, as part of that, is, what are the people who are in the room, what are they excited about? Oftentimes we do research on the people we’re trying to pitch for. We kind of understand their sort of bio but I think that we need to like all take a Debbie Millman sort of approach to research. You are a very thorough researcher; when you interview your guests, it’s very clear. I think we all need to do that with the people we’re walking into a room with. What do we care about? Those are the things that you want to bring into the room. “Hey, I know that one of the things you paid attention to, you love thinking about, is how mobile distribution really works.” That’s actually one of the things I’m trying to figure out right now.

I have some options, but can we talk through that together? Right? If you can get to a point where now you shifted from presentation mode into huddle mode, where the two of you are looking at something together, now, you’re giving that person founder-level passion over your idea.

Debbie Millman:

Suneel, you have backed startups including Impossible Foods, Airbnb and 23andme. What did those founders say to you to feel confident in backing them?

Suneel Gupta:

I think they very, very much had put themselves I think inside the story. Brian Chesky again, for example, not coming in with just, “Hey, wouldn’t this be cool,” but like having come in with like, “I’ve been sleeping on couches, investigating how this whole thing works. I’ve been renting out my own apartment. I put out Craigslist ads. Here’s how many people actually applied for the vacancy that I had.” Leah Busque, when she was founding TaskRabbit, she was actually cleaning homes herself. When Logan Green was creating Lyft at that time, Zimride, he was the one actually carting passengers around Los Angeles himself. He was doing that and it was just curiosity that was taking people into the story and then, they were getting these insights along the way.

That impresses me, just going way beyond Google, and I respect it so much, especially for people who are smart, who could just stay behind the desk and come up with a really great pitch deck, but they decided not to do that. They took much more of a person on the street kind of approach, and that’s what I tend to look for.

Debbie Millman:

Suneel, I have one last question for you. I want to ask you about a little morning routine that you have with your two daughters. You ask them two questions, and I’m wondering if you can share both what the questions are and their responses. I think it’s a really wonderful insight into who you are deep down.

Suneel Gupta:

So I started doing this during the pandemic. My daughters are doing homeschool, and every morning I was getting them sort of set up. I would ask them two questions. I’d say, “Hey, what is the meaning of life?” They’d say, “To find your gift.” I’d say, “Well, what is the purpose of life?” They say, “To give it away.” It’s my favorite quote by Picasso. The meaning of life is to find your gift, and the purpose of life is to give it away. I continue, Debbie, to come back to not just how we get there, but the three words that tend to hold us back from sharing our gift with the world—which is, “I’m not ready,” right? “I’m not ready to do that.” If I have one role, as a dad, it’s to somehow tap into my mom’s energy, let it sort of generationally flow through me in some way so that they can feel that they are ready.

Debbie Millman:

I think that it is one of the most heartwarming things that I learned about you, and such an inspiring way to think about the world. Suneel Gupta, thank you so much for such an engaging conversation, and such a generous conversation, and thank you for joining me today on Design Matters.

Suneel Gupta:

It’s such a pleasure. Thank you so much Debbie.

Debbie Millman:

Suneel Gupta’s new book is titled Backable, The Surprising Truth Behind What Makes People Take a Chance on You. You can read more about everything that Suneel does at Backable.com. This is the 17th year we’ve been podcasting Design Matters, and I’d like to thank you for listening. Remember, we can talk about making a difference, we can make a difference, or we can do both. I’m Debbie Millman, and I look forward to talking with you again soon.

The post Design Matters: Suneel Gupta appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Debbie Millman:

Bobbi Brown created her eponymous line in the early ’90s, and then sold it to the Estee Lauder company in 1995. After 25 years heading the brand, Bobbi has moved on. In that time, she’s written nine bestselling books. She’s consulted with TV shows. She’s recently become a health coach. She’s bought and refurbished a hotel. And yes, she recently started another company and a new beauty brand. She joins me today to talk about the evolution of her remarkable groundbreaking career and her new line of cosmetics. Bobbi Brown, welcome to Design Matters.

Bobbi Brown:

Oh, thank you so much. And it’s a pleasure talking to you, you have such a calming voice.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, thank you.

Bobbi Brown:

Yeah, so just saying that, so I’m happy to talk to you.

Debbie Millman:

Bobbi, is it true that your ring tone is “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction”?

Bobbi Brown:

It’s one of the five, and yes, that is one of them.

Debbie Millman:

Wait a minute, so who is “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” appointed to, and what are the other four?

Bobbi Brown:

Right now, I actually have “Happy” by Pharrell, and I definitely have some Biggie, because I love rap. Just when I get bored, I change it. I’m also this weird girl that changes my covers on my iPhone because I get bored. So maybe because I didn’t have daughters, so I couldn’t buy these different outfits, I changed my iPhone.

Debbie Millman:

Now, I know you’ve worked with the Rolling Stones before—did they ever hear your phone go off?

Bobbi Brown:

I don’t think they did. I’ve done their makeup for album covers. And I had this out-of-body experience a bunch of years later, where I was doing the fashion show of then­–Mick Jagger’s girlfriend, L’Wren Scott, and was invited over to their home for dinner. And that was an out-of-body experience, having spent an evening at Mick’s house with six people. That was pretty cool.

Debbie Millman:

And what a loss for the world, to lose L’Wren.

Bobbi Brown:

She was unbelievable. A dear friend, and the tallest woman I’ve ever been with, and I am five feet tall.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, did you get a good picture? Because I know you like to do that—

Bobbi Brown:

Oh, I did. We always said together, we were the perfect 10. She was the one and I was the zero. We were the perfect 10.

Debbie Millman:

Bobbi, you grew up in the suburbs of Chicago. You said that your mother, your Aunt Alice, and the actress Allie MacGraw were your role models. Why Allie MacGraw?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, different role models for different things. I mean, my mother is responsible for me falling in love with makeup and following it as a career. She always encouraged me. My Aunt Alice is the woman that has taught me the most about life, about how to be grounded, about what’s important and how not to sweat the small stuff. And Allie MacGraw, when I saw Love Story, I was in middle school, and at a time in my life where I didn’t feel enough—pretty enough, cute enough. And I saw Allie MacGraw with her natural hair and hardly any makeup, and it’s the first time I said, “you know what, I could be pretty too.” So there are different reasons.

Debbie Millman:

You’ve written about how your mother was an extraordinarily glamorous woman, and you loved watching her apply white eyeshadow and black liner in her blue gilded bathroom. What enthralled you so much about makeup at that time in your life?

Bobbi Brown:

I’m not sure. I mean, I was not a student, so reading and studying were not my passions in life. So I just always loved, not glamor, I didn’t love glamor, but I just loved ways to better yourself. Whether it’s through diet, even back then, or certainly with makeup, but I used to watch my mom. And it was the ’70s, and so my mother was 20 when I was born. So she was always 20 years older than me. So when I was 10, she was 30 and still incredibly glamorous. And she pretty much channeled anyone from Cher to Jackie Kennedy. She just always had this amazing beauty and perfection about her, and I could never compete with that. So I never tried; I always felt so silly when I would do my makeup like she did. So I did it my way.

Debbie Millman:

You know, Bobbi, I don’t want to be pandering. I have been accused at the, certainly in the early years of this podcast, of fawning over my guests. But I do have to say, you’re really beautiful. I don’t know where you come up, you know, this like zero, and that you thought you could be pretty. You are really a beautiful woman. I don’t know where that’s coming from.

Bobbi Brown:

Well, thank you. But I’m realistic and I kind of have a sense of humor about it. And coming from the suburbs of Chicago, I wasn’t like my friends that were the cheerleaders. I wasn’t like my friends that were the student council. I was in the popular group, but I couldn’t really figure out where I belonged. I was kind of, and I still am, a chameleon. I would go with one group and I’d fit in, then I’d go with another group. I’ve always been a sponge, which has served me well in my adult life. But when you’re growing up, you get insecure. And I was the shortest one. I’ve always had to watch every morsel in my mouth, or I could definitely be a very heavy girl at five-foot tall.

Debbie Millman:

So, we are contemporaries—we grew up at exactly the same time. Our mothers are also 20 years older than both of us. So I have to ask, was there ever a time when you wore green eyeshadow?

Bobbi Brown:

I never wore green eyeshadow, but I did wear lavender and a little bit of pale blue. Because I remember on the bus, I would bring this Yardley palette I had and just put a very small amount close to my lashes. I guess my mother didn’t want me to wear makeup at school, so I did it on the bus.

Debbie Millman:

I also was not allowed to wear makeup, but I was so desperate, I also brought makeup and nail polish to school. And I put on the nail polish in the morning and took it off before I went home. But I wore red, so it was really hard to get it out of the cuticles. How did you wear your hair back in the ’70s?

Bobbi Brown:

Oh, I have been wearing my hair the exact same way: parted in the middle, dark, long and whether that’s Allie MacGraw, I mean—

Debbie Millman:

I was going to say Allie MacGraw, for sure.

Bobbi Brown:

I still do that. People always say, “Where do you part your hair?” I’m like, “In the middle.” And my hair, which looks dark now, is actually 100% white. I always thought, when I maybe turn 60 … now that I’m 64, I’m like 70, I’m like, no. Maybe at 80, I’ll let it go. But right now, I like coloring it.

Debbie Millman:

So as soon as you were old enough, you got your introduction to formal training at your local small cosmetic store.

Bobbi Brown:

Well, no, not formal training. It was almost like a job interview at the local makeup store. It was a friend of my mother’s. I didn’t actually work there, because my experience at this store was, I went in and she said, “I’m going to teach you everything I know. I’m going to show you how to do makeup.” And she started with taking everything off. And she said, “Well, your skin is really yellow, so let me make it pink. And by the way, your nose is too big, so I’m going to show you how to contour it. And your lips are too small, let me show you how you can make them bigger. And your eyes are very beady or small, let me make those bigger.” By the time I was done, she made me feel like I was the ugliest person. And I looked in the mirror. And I just said, “Oh my God, I look terrible.”

Bobbi Brown:

I went home, I didn’t cry. I washed my face and I said, “I look much better.” And I never wanted to work there. But I did see this woman, her name was Elaine, about 20 years ago, and she said, “I am responsible for your success.” And I said, “Yes, you are part of it. That is true.”

Debbie Millman:

But not for the reason you think.

Bobbi Brown:

Yeah, exactly.

Debbie Millman:

At that point in your life, what did you think you wanted to do professionally?

Bobbi Brown:

I didn’t know. I mean, I was still in high school. So I was more concerned with hanging with my friends. And even when it was time to go to college, I didn’t go look at colleges, I followed a boyfriend to University of Wisconsin at Oshkosh. I graduated high school early, not because I had great grades, but because I just did my homework to be done, so I could do something else. So I went there for six months. And then I went to University of Arizona. I was there for a year, and I came home and said, “Mom, school is so boring, I want to drop out.” And she said, “You can’t drop out.” And she said, “What do you want to do?” And I said, “I have no idea.” She said, “Pretend today’s your birthday and you could do anything you want. What would you want to do?”

Bobbi Brown:

I could have said, go to Paris. I could have said, go clothes shopping. I said, “I want to go to Marshall Field’s, the department store, and play with makeup.” And she said, “Why don’t you be a makeup artist?” I said, “I don’t want to go to beauty school.” She said, “I’m sure there’s a college somewhere.” And I found Emerson College in Boston, and that changed my life.

Debbie Millman:

A friend of your father’s first told you about Emerson College, and you were ultimately able to create your own major in theatrical makeup. But you’ve said that the reason that you went, the real reason you went to Emerson, was because of the Magic Pan cafe.

Bobbi Brown:

Yes, yes.

Debbie Millman:

Tell us that story.

Bobbi Brown:

As a kid growing up in the suburbs of Chicago, we didn’t have a lot of outdoor restaurants back then. I flew up to Boston. It was very magical. Boston looks like Europe. And there was this Magic Pan cafe with umbrellas outside, and I literally flew up two days before Emerson started. And I walked into the office and basically anything I said I wanted to do, they said, “You could do it here, sure.” I said, “OK.” And I created my own major. And I realized, that was the start of me learning how to be an entrepreneur.

Debbie Millman:

You said that when you found Emerson, you found yourself.

Bobbi Brown:

Yes.

Debbie Millman:

In what way?

Bobbi Brown:

Because it was the first time I was with people that were just like me. I always felt I wasn’t as smart as my other friends, I wasn’t as smart as the other kids in some of my classes. And I wasn’t interested in traditional education, which I didn’t realize at the time, is because I am a visual creative person. But when I went to Emerson, there was a bunch of “goofballs” like myself that were creative and passionate and fiery. And not afraid to try things, and just jumped into all these new experiences. Like filmmaking and public speaking and whatever else there was. And I was studying makeup. And I did makeup for all the different things at school. It was just a really, really amazing experience for me.

Debbie Millman:

When did you go from more theatrical makeup to fashion makeup?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, in college, my degree was in theatrical makeup, because it wasn’t a fashion school. I didn’t even think of it back then, because I really only assumed that being a makeup artist meant you worked in TV and movies. I didn’t understand that there was other things. So I studied theatrical makeup. I did one film, right after I graduated. It was torture for me. It was so boring, being a makeup artist sitting on the set, and just waiting for your turn to fix and touch up and continuity. And I learned, when I picked up a magazine once and read a story about a freelance makeup artist who was doing makeup for Fashion Week and ads, and she just sounded like this amazing career.

Bobbi Brown:

And so I wrote to her and said, “can I come and assist you for free?” She never wrote me back. But when I came to New York, I called her, she never called me back. On her answering machine, it said, call her agent, which I did. And he said, come see me. And he didn’t represent me, but at least he told me the steps I needed to take to become a makeup artist in the fashion world. So I did.

Debbie Millman:

You said that at this point in your life, one of the best things you had going for you was that you were naive. And in retrospect, you felt that you couldn’t believe that you had the guts to show your amateur portfolio of makeup work from college, in which half of the models were yourself.

Bobbi Brown:

Right, well, yeah.

Debbie Millman:

I’m just wondering, do you really think it was naivete? I think it’s also kind of courageous.

Bobbi Brown:

Well, I think you could look at it both ways. I mean, yes, I’ve always been courageous, not afraid that someone’s going to say something. But I’m naive thinking that they might not like this, or naive that, oh, you don’t just do this. I’m not afraid to ask anyone any question; I never have been. I’ve never thought of, oh, what could happen? So it is being naive. And it’s kind of a good quality. I didn’t realize it. And yes, it’s courageous, because I’m not afraid of them saying “no.” I think I’m someone that sees opportunity when other people see roadblocks.

Debbie Millman:

What are you afraid of?

Bobbi Brown:

I’m afraid of safety, health and wellness for the people I love. I’m very nurturing and I happen to have this amazing career, but I’ve literally put most of my time and energy and emotions into my family. Right now, I am literally one week away from my first kid’s wedding. Honestly, I’ve been just sitting there crying listening to mother-son songs. So I’m trying not to focus on that. I’m not afraid of failure, because to me, there is no such thing. When something doesn’t work out, it’s an opportunity or a message to do something else.

Debbie Millman:

When you first got to New York, in an effort to get work at that time, you placed an ad in the Village Voice offering makeup lessons, and you got one answer, one response. Tell us a little bit about who it was and what he wanted you to do?

Bobbi Brown:

First of all, I am so incredibly impressed in how much homework you have done. I hope you are also a writer on the side, and could write my memoir, because it would be awesome. Save me a lot of time and energy. But yes, I thought well, OK, I needed cash. I had no money and my father, as a graduation gift, bought me my rent for one year. So I put an ad in the Village Voice; I got one call. I think I charged $150. It was from a man who said he was an actor and he was in a play. And it was actually a man, if I had to guess, because he didn’t tell me that he was going through something personal, and he was a cross dresser or something, because he brought an entire Louis Vuitton bag full of women’s clothes.

Bobbi Brown:

And he just wanted me to teach him how to put makeup on. And he tried on all the clothes, and it was just me and him in the space. And I’ll never forget it. And I was like, OK, maybe this is not a good idea. And I never did it again.

Debbie Millman:

Over time, you got some work assisting on “Saturday Night Live.” Within a year, you got a good gig at Glamour magazine. But wasn’t that the job where the hairdresser told you that you would never make it in New York, because you didn’t have a style?

Bobbi Brown:

And he wasn’t the only one that ever told me that. I’ve had stylists. And I had one that took me shopping in the East Village to buy me leather pants, because she thought I needed a style. And I’ll never forget when I put those leather pants on, I bought them and I put them on and I was like, oh my God, I look like an idiot.

Debbie Millman:

Now, how do you handle that kind of feedback? Did it give you pause? Did you think that perhaps she could be right?

Bobbi Brown:

Of course, I absolutely always listened to what people say and think about it. It’s taken me years to let go of any kind of insecurity and feeling bad about these things that people say. And realizing that, you know what, I do have a style. It might not be your style, but it’s my style. Yeah, of course, at the time, when anyone tells you any kind of criticism—your portfolio, your work isn’t up to speed, or you need to start contouring models’ faces if you want to work, you need to do this … I always had people telling me things. And I also was smart enough, maybe naive enough, to know this is their opinion. And other people have different opinions. But I always asked, because I do like feedback.

Debbie Millman:

What do you think of the current high-contour phase we seem to be going through brought on by the Kardashians?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, I’m not a fan of it, at all. I don’t like it. I find that it, if anything, it’s telling women what’s wrong with their features they have. I’m someone that believes that natural beauty is the best kind. And I’m 64 years old—do I wish I didn’t have lines in my forehead? I don’t really even wish that, because it’s not possible. So why spend the energy doing that? I just don’t focus on natural aging on myself. But I try to always look better, feel better, how I could be healthier, because I just look better when I’m healthier.

Debbie Millman:

There seems to be an almost acceptable trend now for a lot of plastic surgery. At one point, it was very secretive and people were sort of ashamed about it. Now it seems very out in the open and there does seem to be a very specific kind of look that people are going for, which to me, feels really unnatural and really highly constructed. How do you feel about what’s happening? And it’s sort of a leading question, given that I’ve just told you my opinion first.

Bobbi Brown:

Well, I remember when it started coming out to be more popular about 20 years ago, where people were, “yes, I just got some Botox,” or “yes, I just got some filler.” And it was still whispered. But I tried Botox twice. And both times, I had terrible, terrible reactions. I just remember saying, “OK, this makes me look weird, I don’t like it.” And I happen to be married to someone that doesn’t like that look. So I just never went back there. And there’s some people that do it, and you can’t really tell, and it’s tasteful. But there’s a lot of people that do it and you could tell. And I’m not a fan of it, but honestly, I’m not here to judge. Because there’re so many different women out there, and men, by the way, that like and want different things.

Bobbi Brown:

I think that’s OK. I mean, we’re in a place and a time where we have to find more love in our hearts for people. We have to find more acceptance of people that are different. And I think that if I can do anything, I could at least encourage people to be the healthiest versions of themselves. So they hopefully will feel better and not do things they don’t need to do.

Debbie Millman:

One of your first big breakthroughs took seven years. It was your first American Vogue cover. You worked with Patrick Demarchelier. And he was photographing Naomi Campbell for her first Vogue cover in 1989. And you’ve written about how this shoot was the first time anyone had filled Naomi’s lips in with a dark color. Prior to that, her signature lip was a dark outline around her lips with the inside being a lighter lip cover. And I went and looked at photos and it had that very ’50s kind of fake look. And you thought making her entire lip darker looked better, which it absolutely did. How did that cover change your career?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, first of all, the shoot was at like sunrise in the middle of the summer. So it was in the 7 o’clocks. We started the makeup very, very early, and we touched it up on the beach. And there were no mirrors. It was an old Calvin Klein lipstick, where I blotted it on her lip. And I was like, “Oh my God, it’s so beautiful.” … We shot it, and you never know if it’s a cover, it’s a cover try. And it did become a cover. And I heard through the grapevine that Naomi was very upset at the time, but I think she stopped doing it after that.

Debbie Millman:

She did, I looked. I couldn’t find anything post that cover.

Bobbi Brown:

Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

And now her lips look exactly like they did on your cover from 1989.

Bobbi Brown:

Right. So I stuck to my gut. I was really bad, and I still am, at doing makeup that I don’t find natural. And I don’t really get hired as much to do those kind of jobs anymore.

Debbie Millman:

At that point, as a makeup artist with essentially access to everything in the market, I understand that you found most products too artificial looking, making it really challenging to create a more natural look. And at the time, the most popular look was very, very white skin with bright red lips and painted, sculpted faces. And you wouldn’t do that kind of makeup. And in fact, I’ve read that you’ve stated that you couldn’t do that kind of makeup.

Bobbi Brown:

Yep.

Debbie Millman:

How come?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, I couldn’t, because I didn’t think it looked good. So no matter what I did, I couldn’t do it. And I remember the first time I tried, I got hired to do a cover of British Cosmo with Jerry Hall. And she was lovely. And she was a very, very big model at the time. I’d never met her before. And when I finished her makeup, I handed her a mirror, because I always handed people mirrors to say, “How do you like it?” And she looked at it, she said, “Oh, it’s very pretty.” She said, “Do you mind if I do a couple things?” I said, “Not at all.” She said, “Could you hand me that brush and that palette?” I said, “Sure.” She sat there and redid her entire face contouring, over-lining, whatever the look of the time was. And No. 1, I learned a lot about certain things that I might not have noticed. And No. 2, she was happy. So it became a cover. I still have it somewhere. And I couldn’t do it myself. She did it.

Bobbi Brown:

And that happened a couple other times, but then I’d work with other women that allowed me to do my thing. That didn’t even look in the mirror. The first time I did Diane Sawyer, I did her makeup, I showed her a mirror, she said, “Oh, I’m sure it’s fine.” And I was like, “Wow, things like that are memorable to me.”

Debbie Millman:

You said you learned a lot from the experience with Jerry Hall. What did you learn?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, I learned, No. 1, that it’s really important for the person you’re making up for a shoot to feel that they’re at their absolute best. Because that’s going to make the best picture. I also learned things like, she did her brows all the way to the edges, and used the brush to raise the brow for the arch. So I took away makeup techniques that I might not have known, but then I have kind of made them my own. And that has happened dozens and dozens and dozens of times. I always hand someone the mirror and see if they’re happy. And it’s not always a perfect experience, but I think a partnership when it comes to makeup is the way to go.

Debbie Millman:

Most lipsticks on the market at that time looked artificial, smelled bad, really artificial, and had a texture that was either greasy or dry. And to create lipsticks that were more flattering, you mixed commonly used colors that were very popular at the time: ultra-bright fuchsia—oh my God, the ’80s—acid oranges, frosted pinks with a little matte beige color, to create prettier, more wearable shades that looked great on pretty much anyone. Can you share how you created your bespoke nude shade at the time?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, when I was a makeup artist without a line, I figured out the beige tones down bad colors. And this blackberry tone into a lipstick makes it more even. I learned all these different tricks. So when I sat down and thought about this bespoke range I was going to create, it started with one color that looked like my lips. And I thought, oh my God, this is amazing. It was kind of like brownie, beigey, blue toned—it’s hard to even describe. And I said, “oh my God, everyone’s going to love this.” And then I realized, everyone’s not going to love it, because this particular color is my lip color. But women have pale lips and dark lips and blue lips. So I needed to make lipstick of all the lipstick shades.

Bobbi Brown:

And then I also said, “well, OK. Some people don’t like their nude lipstick colors.” And by the way, we all have different nude lipsticks. And some people like red, pink and orange, so I made those colors, too. So I curated 10 colors, and I thought, all right, with these 10 colors, anyone can find their shade. Or if you bought all 10, you can literally create any color in the world and never have to buy another lipstick.

Debbie Millman:

I read that you thought about different women you knew at the time and tried to imagine their perfect shade. Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy was the inspiration for a great red, Ricky Lauren inspired pale pink. Adrian Vittadini was the inspiration for beige, to Lisa Soto for raisin. And Naomi Campbell was Blackberry. I saw some of the wonderful swatches that you first created and worked with the Kiehl’s chemist to help create. How long did it take you to perfect the color palette?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, we started with brown, which was my color, and then back then we would just mail things back and forth to each other. It probably took me about six or nine months; coincidentally, it was the exact same time when I was having my first baby. So I had the time and I was not impatient. And I had no idea what was going to happen. I really thought I was just going to make these lipsticks to sell the models, maybe sell to my friends in the suburbs where I lived. And I had no idea what was going to happen, honestly. And so I did it. And I’m like, wow, this is so cool. And I started then selling them out of my home, mailing them to people. That’s how it began.

Debbie Millman:

I read that you got a three-line description of the new brand, Bobbi Brown Essentials, in Glamour magazine, which included your phone number. Did that jumpstart your sales? Did people realize? Did that do anything?

Bobbi Brown:

It did. So everything for me just kind of happens for a reason. I was having lunch with a friend who happened to be the beauty editor at the time, Leslie Seymour. And we talked about our first baby and work and she said, “What are you doing?” And I said, “I’m working on this makeup line. And I’m selling these out of my house.” And she says, “That’s so interesting, tell me about it.” She said, “Can I write about it?” And I was like, “Why would you want to write about it?” Now I know it’s called PR. And it did jumpstart people knowing about it. And we started selling them out of my house. And I think we did that for a year, maybe a year and a half.

Bobbi Brown:

And then I one day was at a party in New York, and I thanked the person that invited me, who—someone else brought me to the party. And I said to her, as I do, I talk to everybody, and I said, “What do you do?” And she said, “I’m a cosmetics buyer of Bergdorf Goodman.” I said, “Oh, I have this line of lipsticks.” And she said, “I’ll take them.” And that kind of started the conversation.

Debbie Millman:

Well, she said you would take them, and then she actually reneged …

Bobbi Brown:

She did.

Debbie Millman:

Tell us that story, because that’s one of my favorite Bobbi Brown stories.

Bobbi Brown:

Right? Well, she said, sounds amazing, she’ll bring them in and get everyone’s opinion. And she called me and said, “Everyone’s really excited. We’ll take them.” And I said, “That’s so great.” And then I think it must have been days later, I was doing a shoot for Saks Fifth Avenue, their catalog. And I had all the colors, because I was always busy doing something in between, getting ready for the makeup. And one of the art directors came over and said, “What are you doing? That’s so cool.” And I said, “Oh, I’m launching this line of lipsticks at Bergdorf.” And then later in the day, I called in to get my messages on my phone. I remember I had a beeper. And one of the messages was from the buyer that said, “I am so sorry, I have bad news. But we can’t take the lipsticks right now because we don’t have any room.”

Bobbi Brown:

So I remember my heart sunk into my stomach, and I was so bummed out. And the art directors came back over to show the other art directors and said, “Oh my God, we’d love to take this.” And I said, I don’t even know why I thought of this, and this was after the Bergdorf call, “I said, well, you can’t have it, because I’m launching at Bergdorf’s.” And then the Bergdorf person called back, asked me something, and I said, “No worries, it’s not a problem, because Saks wants it.” And she said, “I’ll call you back.” And they took it. So, yeah.

Debbie Millman:

I love that story, I love that story. And now they’re in both places.

Bobbi Brown:

Yes, yes.

Debbie Millman:

Your first 10 lipsticks debuted in 1991 at Bergdorf Goodman. You were projecting to sell 100 in a month; you sold 100 within the first day. What do you attribute to the success so quickly after launch?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, I think I hit a nerve. And I know I’m doing it today in the new company too. But I think back then, I hit a nerve. Because people really liked the feel of these lipsticks, they liked the colors. And it was so different than what was on the market, where most of the lipsticks on the market were the artificial, smelly, bright lipsticks. These were, they were comfortable on your lips, and they were colors that worked not just to match your lips, but with your skin. So they were so easy. And you put them on and you’re like, oh my God, it looks good. And so it hit a nerve. And it was very much word-of-mouth in the beginning. We didn’t advertise. And there was no social media, there was nothing that we have today. It was really word-of-mouth, and also the fact that I was a PR editorial makeup artist. So magazines would write about it. And it just kind of started taking off.

Debbie Millman:

You’ve talked at length about how you grew up in a time when beauty was epitomized by tall all-American models like Cheryl Tiegs and Christie Brinkley. You’ve said that when you look at a woman, you actually don’t see what’s wrong with her if they don’t look that way. You see what’s right with her. Has that always been the case for you?

Bobbi Brown:

Yes. And I’ve always appreciated interesting beauty. It was never the classic blond, blue eye, ’80s model or ’70s model. I loved when I started meeting women of different coloring, different things that they had. Whether it was someone who’s mixed, and I would always want to know, what are you? What are you? And I just always appreciated. And back then, I mean, I can’t even believe they called it “ethnic beauty,” which is anyone that wasn’t blond and blue eyes, basically. So now, it’s like women with strong noses. I love freckles. I actually like lines in the face. I like character and I like full lips. And I like just different things on different people.

Debbie Millman:

After four years, just four years, you were able to sell your company to Estee Lauder. But even before that, you had two big offers you turned down. What made you decide to sell to Lauder?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, I think that when Leonard Lauder called … and I didn’t think about selling to Estee Lauder, I thought about selling to Leonard Lauder. When Leonard called and asked to meet me, I went with the partner to his house. And I fell in love with him. And he basically said, “You’re beating us in the stores, I would like to buy you.” And at the time I said, “We’re really not on the market, we’re not for sale.” He said, “What if I could tell you, you could do what you love, and we could do all the things you don’t love? And what if I tell you that you could spend quality time as a mother and with your children, and do all the things that bring you joy?” And I was like, “Hmm, interesting.” And it was an offer that I couldn’t refuse.

Bobbi Brown:

It was an amazing feeling. I never felt bad. I mean, it was an incredible experience. I was thrilled my husband and I were able to send all of our nieces and nephews to college and just, it was an amazing thing.

Debbie Millman:

Didn’t he also tell you that you reminded him of his mother?

Bobbi Brown:

He did.

Debbie Millman:

And her entrepreneurship, when she started?

Bobbi Brown:

Yes, he did. But I used to laugh that, OK, we both had boys—she had two, I had three. She would hang out with royalty and presidents and I hung out with basketball players and rap stars.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, but I think yours sounds a lot more fun.

Bobbi Brown:

I think so, even though I really want to meet the queen. That’s been my lifelong dream.

Debbie Millman:

Well, you did meet some royalty here in the United States. In 2010, you were appointed by then-President Barack Obama to the Advisory Committee for Trade Policy and Negotiation. You were invited by First Lady Michelle Obama to participate in the White House’s Leadership and Mentoring Program for Young Women. And I believe you almost did Michelle Obama’s makeup for the 2009 inauguration. Is that correct?

Bobbi Brown:

Yes, I’ve done her makeup before, but I didn’t get the job for the inauguration. She brought her Chicago team. I don’t blame her. But I ended up doing Dr. Biden’s makeup, and becoming a very good friend of hers. I did her makeup for both inaugurations. And I don’t remember if it was the first or second one—I think it was the first one—where I somehow ended up in a motorcade amongst all of these guys that I had no idea who they were. And one guy turned to me, he said, “Who are you?” I said, “Oh, I’m a makeup artist.” He’s like, “What are you doing in my motorcade?” And I said, “Well, I did Dr. Biden’s makeup.” And I’m like, “Who are you?” And he said, “I am Leon Panetta, the Secretary of Defense.” I’m like, “Nice to meet you.” And he said, “Oh, can I take a picture for my wife?” I do have pictures of me and him in the motorcade.

Debbie Millman:

Awesome. Have you been to the new Biden White House?

Bobbi Brown:

I have not, I have not. It’s been a very interesting time with COVID and everything else. And I think they’re still running and trying to catch up.

Debbie Millman:

By 2010, that same year you were appointed by President Obama to be on the Advisory Committee, Bobbi Brown Cosmetics was available in more than 980 doors, as they call it, 56 countries. By 2012, there were over 60 freestanding Bobbi Brown cosmetic stores worldwide. And Bobbi Brown cosmetics were estimated to represent 10% of Estee Lauder company’s total sales, which is quite a lot. You stayed at Lauder for 22 years. What kept you at Lauder for so long?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, I honestly thought I owned the company; I acted as if it was my company, even after I sold it. I had so much support in the beginning. I was pretty much allowed to do what I thought was right, and what I wanted to do, and I interviewed every person that came in the door. I was able to build my team. I was able to do everything from name the products, to create the products, to promote the products. I did everything I was really good at. And for 20 years, it was pretty incredible. And I am so grateful to have had that experience. The last couple years, as I’m sure you could understand, was more challenging. And it was time to go.

Debbie Millman:

It’s interesting. I spoke to Jenna Lyons about leaving J.Crew, and she felt that she maybe left one or two years too late. Do you feel that way?

Bobbi Brown:

Yeah, easy to say that now. And by the way, as someone that is Susie’s sunshine and just naive, I always think I could fix things. I always think, all right, I’m going to go in and I’m going to organize, and I’m going to get everyone together, and we’re going to … and it just was challenging. And honestly, it was my Aunt Alice, who is now 90, who, I guess she was 85. And she called me one day: “How’s it going?” And I was like, “Oh my god, Aunt Alice, it’s torture, this, this.” She said, “Honey, It’s time. It’s time.” She said, “I’ve been listening to you complain for years, it’s time.” And it was time. And honestly, it was the biggest gift that could have ever happened to me. Because I would not have been able to be who I am and do all the things if I was still there.

Debbie Millman:

I read that after the shock of leaving wore off, there was the silence.

Bobbi Brown:

Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

What was the transition like for you?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, it was a joint decision. I went down in the elevator. And it was like the most amazing thing happened—all of this stress left my body. I realized I wasn’t responsible for all the problems anymore. It was an interesting couple days. So I had a couple days where I was, I don’t know if I was shocked, sad, mad, I don’t know what it was. I drank tequila with my friends who live next door to me for two days. And then I started reaching out and calling a few friends. One of the first people I called was Mickey Drexler, who was the most incredible mentor to me. And then I called my friend Richard Baker, who at the time owned Lord and Taylor and Saks. And he said, “I’m so glad.” He said, “I want you to make a justBOBBI store in the middle of Lord and Taylor.” And I said, “OK.” And my husband said, “I want you to help me with the hotel.” So I had two quiet days. But it was my choice.

Debbie Millman:

You don’t like being bored.

Bobbi Brown:

No, I get bored very easily. And I like to use my imagination and my mind, and my friends and my network. I like being in the middle of it.

Debbie Millman:

You had a four-year noncompete in the cosmetics industry, which—

Bobbi Brown:

No—

Debbie Millman:

… meant that you couldn’t—

Bobbi Brown:

I had a 25-year noncompete. When we sold the company, I signed a 25-year noncompete. When I left Bobbi Brown Cosmetics, I had four-and-a-half years left.

Debbie Millman:

Wow.

Bobbi Brown:

Wow.

Debbie Millman:

So you made a necklace with the date, right?

Bobbi Brown:

Yes, yes.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, you’re still wearing it?

Bobbi Brown:

I’m still wearing it, it’s not on today. But yes, I bought an ampersand. And on the back, I wrote 10.20. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but it signaled my freedom.

Debbie Millman:

How did you manage not knowing what your future looked like for the first time in your career?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, the positive things are, I got to do things like see people for lunch for no reason. I got to ride the train, instead of being in a car service, because I was too cheap to pay my driver. And walk into stores, and see what was out there. I kind of felt like George Bush, when he left the White House and said, “Oh, you could just go shopping and put your code in.” So I kind of liked all of that. And I just started thinking about possibilities. And I put together a mini team. And my mini team was to help me, I had a book to promote, Beauty From the Inside Out. And to kind of help me with the George Hotel, help me with justBOBBI at Lord and Taylor. And things just started getting interesting. I ended up getting an offer to create a wellness brand.

Debbie Millman:

Didn’t you become a certified health coach to do that, too?

Bobbi Brown:

I did, I went back to school and I got my degree as a health coach from Institute of Integrative Nutrition. It was all done digitally, and so much fun. And I just started talking to people and trying different things. And especially on the hotel, like putting together my favorite brands and products and reaching out to them. And so when you stay at the hotel, you’ll be sleeping on a Casper mattress. You will be having your Nespresso in the morning, and you will have a Dyson hair dryer, and onward and onward.

Debbie Millman:

So you’re once again building an empire. You’ve launched Evolution_18, it’s a lifestyle-inspired wellness line. You’ve started a website named justBOBBI.com. And drumroll, late last year, you launched your second makeup line in 30 years, your brand-new beauty brand Jones Road. Is it true you got the name from the Waze app?

Bobbi Brown:

Yes, because when you’re sitting there deciding what to name this company … and I can’t use my name, which is totally fine, did that. We couldn’t agree on names. We asked writers that we know, we hired copywriters. I even had Gloria Steinem working on names, because they did a job with her. She goes, “Oh, I’ll come up with a name.”

Debbie Millman:

What did she recommend?

Bobbi Brown:

You know what, if I could only find that list, because she wrote it on a piece of paper.

Debbie Millman:

In her handwriting.

Bobbi Brown:

Yeah, I know, right? But then one day, my husband, who is my biggest supporter in all of this, said to me, “You’ve got to come up with a name.” I said, “I know, but …” Dah, dah, dah. “And this one’s not available.” And he said, “We can’t even think of launching until, and we’re starting to run out of time.” So we were driving to the Hamptons. And my husband likes to look at Google Maps and Waze because God forbid, we’re in traffic when there’s a back road. And I put my head down and I looked at, I said, “Jones Road Beauty.” And he said, “What?” And I said, “Doesn’t that sound great?” He said, “It actually sounds awesome.” And I called the team, I said, “Put me on speakerphone.” They said, “Love it.” And it became Jones Road Beauty.

Bobbi Brown:

And for me, it was like, OK, Jones Road reminds me of a bespoke brand in the UK. And I’m a total Anglophile. It also was like, OK, well, I can’t use Brown, I’ll use Jones.

Debbie Millman:

I like it, because I actually thought it was like, I have a Jones for something.

Bobbi Brown:

Exactly, and that was the last one. Yeah. And everyone has a Jones for beauty.

Debbie Millman:

Exactly, exactly. So tell us about the brand and your various signature products, some of which I’m wearing.

Bobbi Brown:

Aww. Well, first of all, working on it, it is a clean brand, which just means it’s a brand of now, because there’s 2,700 banned ingredients that you cannot have if you want to be a clean brand.

Debbie Millman:

You said 2,700?

Bobbi Brown:

2,700, and that’s the truth. So I wanted to create the best products, I wanted to make this different kind of makeup. Because what happened also, while I was still at the brand, when you’re part of a big brand in a big corporation, you have many people to please. And you have to come up with these products for different parts of the country. And I had to approve, at the end of my stay, products that I just didn’t like. And I was pressured into it, where I never would have had to do that earlier. And I just don’t like makeup that is so heavy and strong. Things were changing while I was still at the brand, the digital brands, the direct-to-consumer brands. But my personal makeup style on myself, and on the people I was making up, was changing also; less makeup, more fresh, more skin, healthier.

Bobbi Brown:

I just wanted to have makeup that you could put on that instantly made you look like that. I was always frustrated with some of my artists that couldn’t understand what I wanted. Because it made everybody look like they had a makeup face. I don’t like a makeup face. So working with chemists and a couple product development people, I created these products that I was like, oh my God, these are amazing, amazing. Where I somehow named things like, we named the pencil the Best Brown Pencil. We named an eyeshadow the Best Color in the World. I just, I was so enamored and excited. And the Miracle Balm, which is our hero product. It was a happy mistake creating it, and it literally instantly makes everybody look better.

Debbie Millman:

Why was it an accident?

Bobbi Brown:

Because I asked the chemists to create something that I wanted to make. And it came back completely not what I wanted. And instead of saying “ugh,” I just tried it. I stuck my hand in it, I put it on, I’m like, oh my God. So I wanted something that was more like a foundation. So it would have been more skin-colorish. But it ended up to be this Miracle Balm that you put on your face, that’s a hybrid skincare tinted makeup, that you don’t really even need a foundation when you put it on. Or just need it on parts. And if you did wear foundation, it made your foundation look so much better. And that was the first product that we said we could launch a company with, just this product.

Debbie Millman:

Is it true that the Miracle Balm has a wait list of 20,000 people?

Bobbi Brown:

It did, it did, because we didn’t know how popular it was going to be. So we launched on the day my noncompete was up, one week prior to the presidential election in the middle of a pandemic, where I did the “Today” show on my Zoom, with basically a blazer on top and shorts on the bottom. Then I did The Wall Street Journal and then I did Elvis Duran. So I hit three different medias from my office. And that’s how I launched it.

Debbie Millman:

Incredible.

Bobbi Brown:

I didn’t know and realize, No. 1, how interested people were that I was back. And how much they’d love the product. So we thought we’d have enough for six months, and we sold out of two of the colors in three weeks. So there was a huge wait list. And then the coolest thing happened. Someone called me and said, “Oh my God, we just found 2,500 dusty rose Miracle Balms in the warehouse. But we have no boxes, I’m going to order boxes.” I said, “You’re not going to order boxes, I’m not waiting a month. Go to the store, get me white sandwich bags, get some neon tape and bring it to me.” And we printed the ingredients on a card, put it in the bag and taped the bag with one little neon stripe. And we sold 2,500 that day, just like that.

Debbie Millman:

So tell us the origin story of the bag that you created that kind of looks like a lunch bag, that you stored Jones Road in. Because when I got my products, they came in a little bag with a little white snap button, which was really charming. Where did that come from?

Bobbi Brown:

Well, we did not want to put anything in plastic, we did not want to use those little packing things that are environmentally bad. And we wanted to keep everything, you know, indie, low-cost, simple. And we just found a company that had this fabric. You’re a brander, I love creating the logo, I love creating the feel. I love how the logo looks on the packaging. And I believe that everything sends a message.

Bobbi Brown:

So the bag it goes in, the box it goes in, the note, every little thing matters. The paperclip matters. So of course I worried it wrinkled a little bit, but you know what? It’s supposed to wrinkle a little bit.

Debbie Millman:

It’s like linen.

Bobbi Brown:

It is.

Debbie Millman:

It looks better that way.

Bobbi Brown:

Yeah, exactly. So we have since launched almost every month a new product category.

Debbie Millman:

Who did the identity for you?

Bobbi Brown:

Me.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, good.

Bobbi Brown:

Honestly, well, not me, because I don’t know graphic design. We had hired a few different people and I ended up finding a graphic designer who ended up going to high school with my youngest child; she was one year out of school. And she joined freelance, and everything she did, I fell in love with. So I have this kid, Aaron, who does everything for me, and we work really closely together. And for me, like, “Bobbi, what do you like?” “I love that, oh my God, I love that. And Aaron, why don’t you try to do this, this way?” Because you know, I have this vision, but I don’t have the skills to actually bring my vision to life. So Aaron has been a big supporter and big help.

Debbie Millman:

Bobbi, I have one last question for you. But then I have three sort of rapid-fire beady questions I want to ask you.

Bobbi Brown:

Sure.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, wait, I actually have two last questions. I read that you wanted to have a hashtag for the brand called, “how not to look like shit.”

Bobbi Brown:

Well, we actually have a hashtag because, I might be the only one using it, #hownottolooklikeshit. Because I also realized that’s truly why people wear makeup. I don’t think people that want to look alluring and sexy are necessarily going to be a fan of Jones Road. But I’m going to attract the women that just want to look better with makeup. So yes, #hownottolooklikeshit.

Debbie Millman:

How can people buy the new line? Where can they find you?

Bobbi Brown:

We are only direct-to-consumer. We have Jonesroadbeauty.com. You can also buy off the Instagram. We are available, I don’t know how they got it, but at the George Hotel in Montclair, we have a little pop-up that has some of the products. That’s my hotel, that’s how they got it. And we’re opening a freestanding store in Montclair in September-ish/October, that will be our first freestanding store. We are not in any retail. We’ll be doing our first pop-up at Goop in Sag Harbor this summer, and working on our second one. So we’re not doing traditional sales, which I’m pretty psyched about, at the moment.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, that’s great. Really great. OK, three quick beauty questions, you OK with that?

Bobbi Brown:

Yeah, I’m good.

Debbie Millman:

I think everyone that listens to the podcast that loves makeup would be mad at me if I didn’t. So I’m doing it for my listeners. All right, No. 1. What’s the best way to tell if a makeup shade is right for your skin?

Bobbi Brown:

Honestly, the only way is to look in the mirror, and if you like the way it looks, it’s the right color. OK, that’s the general question. But then there’s rules like foundation should blend into your skin, to know it’s the right color. Blush should be the color of your cheeks when you pinch them. Some of those things are just little, you know, hacks, to help you find the right color.

Debbie Millman:

When you’re putting on foundation, do you use your fingers or a sponge?

Bobbi Brown:

Or a brush, any of that works? I don’t even use foundation; I use our face pencils. Because you don’t really need foundation everywhere, you just need to even out redness, dark spots and anything else that pops up on your face.

Debbie Millman:

What is one makeup routine most women get wrong?

Bobbi Brown:

Definitely picking a foundation. I, honestly, I find that most foundations out in the world don’t allow your face to look like skin. It looks like you’ve got a foundation on. I personally don’t like it.

Debbie Millman:

Last one: What’s one makeup tip you wish every person who wears makeup knew?

Bobbi Brown:

Concealer, something to lighten under your eyes, makes you look not tired. I think that’s really important. And a lot of women skip that, because they don’t know how to look for the right one. And for me, my No. 1 thing is blush. If I do nothing else, and I’m lucky, because I wear glasses, so I can get away with looking tired. But if I wear blush, I look better. And by the way, whatever makeup you have, whether it’s an eyeshadow or a blush, you could use it on more than one thing. You could make any of your products multipurpose products, there’s no rules.

Debbie Millman:

Bobbi Brown, thank you so much for making so many people feel more beautiful or not feel like shit. And thank you, thank you for joining me today on Design Matters.

Bobbi Brown:

My pleasure, I’ve been looking forward to this. Thank you so much.

Debbie Millman:

Thank you. You can find out more about Bobbi at her website, justBOBBI.com. And you can learn a lot more about makeup from any one of her nine wonderful books. This is the 17th year we’ve been podcasting Design Matters, and I’d like to thank you for listening. And remember, we can talk about making a difference, we can make a difference, or we can do both. I’m Debbie Millman, and I look forward to talking with you again soon.

The post Design Matters: Bobbi Brown appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Debbie Millman:

Jenna Lyons started with J.Crew when she was 21 years old and worked her way up the ranks to become not only executive creative director, but also president of the company. Her style became J.Crew’s style, and her brand was synonymous with J.Crew’s. She was even appointed “The Woman Who Dresses America” by The New York Times.

Debbie Millman:

So, when J.Crew and Jenna Lyons parted company in 2017, they each had to figure out who they were on their own. Since the parting, Jenna Lyons has started a new eyelash company, and she is currently producing and starring in a new reality show on HBO Max. She joins me today to talk about her past, her present and her future. Jenna Lyons, welcome to Design Matters.

Jenna Lyons:

Hi, thank you so much for having me. I’m so excited to be here.

Debbie Millman:

Thank you, Jenna. Well, the first question I have for you is about your dog. Why did you name him Popeye?

Jenna Lyons:

That’s a great question. When I got Popeye, my son and I picked him out from a rescue place, and he was only two pounds. We wanted to give him a name that he could grow into and wanted him to be strong, so that was why we named him Popeye. And I understand that—

Debbie Millman:

You’re considering getting him his own agent?

Jenna Lyons:

It was a joke. But considering how much attention he gets, he may need one. He’s very, very popular.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, he has a lot of charisma on the show, I have to say.

Jenna Lyons:

It’s so true. Ironically, he’s definitely my dog but when people come over, as soon as someone comes over and they sit on the couch, he looks at me and goes over and sits right next to them. Like, “Just so you know, mom, I can be friends with other people too.” It’s like he’s a total slut. I mean, I don’t know why but he totally give me a run for my money.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, I could tell you. We got a new dog a few months ago and he was also two pounds when we got him. He’s really a love muffin but only with us. He takes a while to get used to other people. Your dog goes and sits next to people, my dog barks at people. He’s now only seven pounds but you’d think he was a pitbull, the way he just is barky when he sees people he doesn’t like.

Jenna Lyons:

Well, the one thing I will say is your dog must be a puppy then.

Debbie Millman:

Yes.

Jenna Lyons:

OK, so Popeye did the same thing up until he was like 14 months. So, I think that goes away.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, good, because I want him to be a little bit more friendly—

Jenna Lyons:

I know.

Debbie Millman:

Although we do feel much safer now.

Jenna Lyons:

I don’t know if safe is really the feeling I get.

Debbie Millman:

So, Jenna, you were born Judith Lyons in Boston, MA, but your family moved to Palos Verdes when you were 4. When did you go from Judith to Jenna?

Jenna Lyons:

Oh, you did your homework. Well, I remember I went to Parsons. My first year in Parsons was actually in California, so it was Otis Parsons in Los Angeles the first year. I remember, I never really felt like a Judith. Well, the teacher said, “If anyone goes by a nickname or wants to change their name, now is the time to tell me. Roll call and I’ll put you in properly.” The girl in front of me, they get to her, and her name was Christina. She’s like, “Oh, I go by Sebastian.” I’m like, “Oh, shit.” All bets are off, I can do anything. I literally on that spot thought about what am I going to say. I had no idea. I didn’t know what to say. But my brother had teased me for quite some years, and he used to say, “Geni, geni, genitalia. Geni, geni, genitalia” as a joke. I know. Isn’t that a nice …

Debbie Millman:

That’s so awesome.

Jenna Lyons:

I mean, the derivation of my name is really sexy. It was the only thing that came to my mind, so I just said, “Jenna.”

Debbie Millman:

Oh, my god.

Jenna Lyons:

It just came out. And I wanted something, at least I had the same initial so I could sign my name. I got crazy.

Debbie Millman:

What does your brother think of this, that you took on his nickname, his moniker?

Jenna Lyons:

I do know that I didn’t tell a soul. I kept that a secret for, I don’t know, probably 20 years. I never told him until probably about five years ago because it was embarrassing. I don’t know, I didn’t really want anybody to know, so I’ve been keeping it a secret, but now I’m sharing it with you.

Debbie Millman:

Well, thank you. Thank you. Moving on to a slightly more somber note, your mother was a piano teacher and your parents got divorced when you were in junior high school. You’ve talked about a defining moment at that time in the tuna fish aisle in a supermarket.

Jenna Lyons:

Oh, gosh, you really went there. Yeah, I did. It’s interesting because my mom doesn’t remember this. You know how we all have those things in our head that completely strike us and someone else is there and they don’t have the same recollection, or it didn’t impact them at all?

Debbie Millman:

Yes.

Jenna Lyons:

I just remember being in the tuna fish aisle and me saying, “Oh, let’s get some tuna fish this week,” and my mom saying, “It’s a little expensive. Let’s not get it this week.”

Jenna Lyons:

Palos Verdes is known for being a rather fancy neighborhood, but I lived in the not fancy part of the neighborhood. With my father leaving and my mom doing the best she could on a piano teacher salary, things were always not easy. It was a very humiliating and humbling experience. I think, as a kid, I didn’t know how to process that. It was scary. It was a scary experience I had never had before. It really rocked me in a way. I don’t know how to express it.

Debbie Millman:

I know that that moment inspired you to feel that you could only rely on yourself. How did this manifes
t in your work ethic as you were growing up?

Jenna Lyons:

I think it was that coupled with a few other poignant moments, where my mother had said to me, “Make your own money. Don’t rely on anyone else.” I had made a really bad decision at one point where I had gotten money from a car accident and I bought my then-boyfriend a synthesizer. My mother lost her mind and was like, “Don’t spend your money on other people. Take care of yourself. You’ll never know. Don’t rely on other people and don’t overspend.” There were moments like that across my life that resonate with me.

Jenna Lyons:

I think it’s just, I know this is going to sound weird, but it was kind of just fear. It made me afraid that I would not be taken care of, and so I needed to do that myself. I also think I had a fear of just not doing a good job. It wasn’t just because I want to do well to make money. That was part of it, of course, to take care, but I also really had a lot of pride. I didn’t want to do a bad job. I didn’t want someone to look at something I did and say, “Ooh, that’s not good enough.” That was just something I didn’t feel comfortable with.

Debbie Millman:

Has it gotten any easier?

Jenna Lyons:

Oh, god. I mean, therapy helps, but …

Debbie Millman:

I’m still waiting for it to get easier. I’m waiting to feel safe. I just don’t know when it’s going to happen.

Jenna Lyons:

I don’t know if you ever fully sink into that, but it certainly is helpful to be a little bit more aware of it, particularly when you’re raising a kid.

Debbie Millman:

Yes. You were born with a genetic disorder called, I’m hoping I pronounce this correctly, incontinentia pigmenti?

Jenna Lyons:

Pigmenti, yeah. Very good.

Debbie Millman:

It impacted the growth of your teeth and your hair. You’ve said that as you were growing up you were ashamed of your condition. You also experienced tremendous bullying with your classmates, and I read that boys chased you and hit you in the schoolyard.

Jenna Lyons:

Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

Did anyone try and help you?

Jenna Lyons:

Listen, it was a different time. Just to be clear, it affects the skin and the teeth and the hair for people who don’t know it. My teeth grew in conical, that means like cones, so I literally looked like Dracula. I had huge bald spots in the back of my head that I didn’t actually realize were there until I was probably in fifth grade, and then my skin is kind of multicolored. It has darker patches and white patches, so I’ve got some sort of like vitiligo a little bit.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, I have vitiligo, so yeah, I know what it is.

Jenna Lyons:

Oh, OK. So, there. This was years ago. This was long before people really talked about bullying. A lot of people talked about, “Don’t listen to them. You’re beautiful.”

Jenna Lyons:

It’s interesting, I’ve been doing a lot of reading. There’s this guy, Brad Reedy, who I’ve been reading some of his … I listened to some of his podcasts talking just about things you shouldn’t say to your kids, and one of them is “don’t listen to those people, you’re beautiful,” all those things because basically what it does is it shuts down this idea that you have pain. It’s basically just completely not acknowledging what you’re going through, and no one knew. My mother didn’t have access to that kind of therapy or perspective and people didn’t talk about bullying. I was afraid to go to my teachers. My mother didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want her to go to the school and then the kid that hit me get in trouble, and then he’d hate me even more.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah, made it worse. I know that. That happened to me too, which is not worth it.

Jenna Lyons:

There’s no way out of it, so I just kind of dealt, probably not in the best of ways.

Debbie Millman:

By the time you were in the seventh grade, you were six feet tall—

Jenna Lyons:

Yes.

Debbie Millman:

… and fashion was a challenge for you. You mostly had to shop in the big and tall section of stores. All that changed when you took a home economics class and you became fascinated by the world of sewing and making clothes. I read about a yellow round skirt printed with jumbo watermelons that you made. I was wondering if you could tell us more about that.

Jenna Lyons:

Gosh, you really … I’m so impressed. Yeah, I was incredibly tall and incredibly thin. I know that sounds like a blessing, but at the time, this was before there were skinny jeans for girls. There was no tall section for girls. I couldn’t wear pants and I had all these scars on my legs, so I was trying to hide them. I needed pants. I found myself just really unsure and buying really big clothes so that they would hang longer and fit. I thought I was a size 14, it turns out I was not.

Jenna Lyons:

And so, when I made that home economics class the thing, I wanted to make a skirt that would actually go to the ground because nothing would do that on me, and so I did the process of making something my own. I had to measure myself and then make the skirt to my measurements. I put it on, and I was like, “Oh, I’m not big. I’m actually kind of thin. This looks kind of good.” And then I wore it to school. The most popular girl in school, this girl Dara Peterson, sent me a note in social studies and was like, “Hey, I love your skirt. Where’d you get it?” I will never forget the moment.

Jenna Lyons:

I said, “Oh, I made it,” and she was like, “Would you make me one?” That was the first moment in my life where I had gotten positive feedback for the way I looked. On top of that, I made it myself. It was just kind of a little bit of like the best Pandora’s Box you could possibly open at that time in my life. I was really struggling. None of the boys wanted to go out with me because I was a head taller than all of them. Also, my teeth were still really not great, and I think, I’m sure, people looking at me were like, “I don’t want to kiss her.” It was just an incredible experience and I really, I ran with that one.

Debbie Millman:

I won the home economics award in high school, and the only reason I won, because we did cooking and sewing in home ec and I didn’t and still can’t cook, but my mother was a seamstress and my mom made clothes. She put an ad in the Penny Saver, and she made clothes for women that were tall and thin or people that
couldn’t buy clothes anywhere else, and she would make their clothes.

Jenna Lyons:

Amazing.

Debbie Millman:

She would make all these beautiful drawings after she made them, and she hung them up in this little studio that was in our basement.

Jenna Lyons:

Oh, my god.

Debbie Millman:

We didn’t have any money, but she taught me how to sew and I would make all my own clothes, which I thought were the coolest. But, thinking back on it, they weren’t. It wasn’t like a beautiful, like the description that I read about the skirt, that it was long, liquid and cut on the bias with an elastic waistband and hand-stitched hem; the skirt turned out to be an epochal piece of rayon and mine were like pink polyester puffy sleeves with an applique purple butterfly.

Jenna Lyons:

Hey, that sound great.

Debbie Millman:

And I had a pair of red corduroy overalls.

Jenna Lyons:

I mean, yes. I mean, listen, I’m all in it. It sounds amazing, literally. I think there’s one year where I dressed in nothing but shades of purple, so have at it. I’m all for it.

Debbie Millman:

I still have that sewing skill but nothing like you.

Jenna Lyons:

Oh, no. I went to college for four years and one of the things we did was sew. It’s supposed to be like going to trade school, but I don’t know if I could sew that well anymore. I mean, it’s been a long time.

Debbie Millman:

Now, you’ve said you use clothing as an armor and that your personal style changes based on how you want to feel, even if you’re faking it. I know a lot of women do that. Like, I put on makeup today so that I would feel more confident talking to you face to face through Zoom. What makes you feel strongest?

Jenna Lyons:

It really depends on the moment and what the occasion is. I think I can give you an example. I am on the board of Shake Shack. They had a retreat and they asked if I would talk at the retreat. I realized that they all expected me to be businesslike and very professional, and so I chose to wear a sequined jacket that was incredibly sparkly in like 80 million different colors of sequins—it’s one of my favorite pieces—mostly just because I wanted people to see me feeling fun and relate. I didn’t want to be what they expected. I wanted them to see a fun part of me and a sparkly part of me, and that was important.

Jenna Lyons:

It really just depends on the moment. It doesn’t always work either. Sometimes I try really hard and I don’t feel great. It’s a process and an armor as such. I think … at the end of the day, confidence is an inside job. It can help. It can give you strength, but it doesn’t always give you everything.

Debbie Millman:

Your grandmother gave you a sewing machine and a subscription to Vogue. I read that the first copy you received was the 1982 issue with Isabella Rossellini on the cover and an Issey Miyake spread inside. You read the issues cover-to-cover, went back and read them again and even memorized the mastheads. Did you ever consider a career in publishing at that time working at a magazine?

Jenna Lyons:

I did not know anything about the fashion industry. I didn’t think that I would ever meet an Anna Wintour. I could not express to you how far away it felt from my life. I lived in an area like Palos Verdes when I was growing up. There were no bookstores, there were no magazine stores. The only thing that was on the magazine aisle in my grocery store was Redbook and the National Enquirer. That’s just what was available to me, so it just felt completely not approachable. I didn’t even dream that.

Jenna Lyons:

I also didn’t really understand what those people did. I didn’t know what a magazine editor did. I did know that I enjoyed making things with my hands and I liked the process of thinking about something, making it and then wearing it and having feedback. That loop for me was really healthy, and so I felt more drawn to that, but I still don’t totally know what goes on in all the magazines.

Debbie Millman:

I understand that a drawing class and learning about Antonio Lopez is what inspired your decision to apply to Parsons School of Design for fashion.

Jenna Lyons:

Yes. My mother was really incredible. She got me a private sewing lessons so that I could really learn to make things outside of my home ec class. I was enrolled in private drawing lessons with this woman named Mrs. Webster, and Mrs. Webster gave me a book called Antonio’s Girls by Antonio Lopez. It was probably one of the most eye-opening things for me.

Jenna Lyons:

You know, I grew up in California where beauty was “Baywatch.” It was blonde hair, blue eyes, big boobs, surfer. That was the only aesthetic that really existed. I open up the pages of Antonio’s Girls and there is Jerry Hall who, granted, she was blonde, but really didn’t have any boobs to speak of; Grace Jones, beautiful, dark skinned, strong black woman; Tina Chow, Asian woman with bright red lips and kind of boyish way of dressing. Just completely different.

Jenna Lyons:

Marisa Berenson with big locks of curly hair. … You know, it was just, I realized that there was another type of beauty out there. The way that he photographed them was not like what I was seeing in the magazines. It wasn’t polished and perfect. They were beautiful but they were free and sexy. I was just completely taken in and it really just got me. I was like, I want to go to New York. I want to be wherever this person is. Wherever this idea of beauty is, I want to go.

Debbie Millman:

So, you moved to New York City in the late 1980s. What a great time to be in Manhattan. What was that like for you going from Southern California to New York City and—

Jenna Lyons:

I always got the chills. First, it was a different place. I mean, this was well before all of the zoning laws have kicked in. You had just clubs, all kinds of clubs everywhere. Underground clubs, dancing clubs, sex clubs. It was just like the wild, wild West but it was amazing. It had that grit. The Meatpacking District was the meatpacking district and there were clubs.

Debbie Millman:

Remember Western Beef?

Jenna Lyons:

Oh, god, are you kidding? I mean, we would hang out—

Debbie Millman:

And the [inaudible] place across that you’d go to at like 4 in the morning?

Jenna Lyons:

Yeah. I remember walking from Nell’s on
14th Street over to [inaudible] and literally, with all the dudes at 4 in the morning, with the meat hanging on the racks. It was just a totally different vibe. But on top of that, it was the first time I’d ever really felt pretty in the way where I could be myself, where I didn’t feel like I was … I had moved here very tan with bleached blonde hair and dressed kind of sexy, like California sexy. When I moved here, nobody dressed like that. It was much more sophisticated. Women with like slicked-back hair. I’d never seen a red lip like that before. You know, sexy was not showing everything. Sexy was understated. It was very different, and I was beyond excited. It was just one of the best. I mean, those early years while I was dirt poor, I have the best memories.

Debbie Millman:

You interned at Donna Karan during your senior year. You said that the clothes were all incredibly beautiful but insanely expensive and you didn’t know anyone who could afford them. It was at that point that you went from wanting to make beautiful clothes to wanting to make things that anyone could afford, and anyone could wear. At that point, did you think that you could do both?

Jenna Lyons:

I think I wanted to believe that. I mean, I was aware of other brands that my friends could buy. My friends could buy Ralph Lauren. My friends could buy J.Crew. My friends could buy, you know, Ann Taylor was very, very different back then.

Debbie Millman:

Yes. There were some great pencil skirts back then.

Jenna Lyons:

Yeah. I wanted to believe that. I knew that where I got my satisfaction and where I got my emotional fuel was through the process of making things for other people. It wasn’t just like I want to make a beautiful thing and very rare three people can afford this $2,500 cashmere jacket. While it is absolutely stunning and I want to live in it and I want to own it, there not that many people that can have that. It didn’t work for me, like emotionally work for me.

Debbie Millman:

You saw a posting on the Parsons job board for a job at J.Crew. At the time, J.Crew was selling a mix of khakis and rugby shirts and inexpensive cardigans. What made you decide to apply there?

Jenna Lyons:

This was exactly the same time that they were starting to shoot on Christy Turlington, Linda Evangelista. They were really making an effort to make really simple, straightforward clothing more elevated. That was Emily Woods. That was her brainchild. She really was trying to shift to thinking around like why shouldn’t an everyday T-shirt be gorgeous and sexy, because it is? I think she was looking at the work of the [inaudible], Avedon’s and Bruce Weber’s, who were able to make something really simple very, very sexy. Not just sexy, but also just chic.

Jenna Lyons:

That was what was really inspiring to me, was to see these models that I knew were walking the runways of Valentino and Prada and Gucci. These high-end models but then they were coming in and being paid to wear a beautiful simple T-shirt, and a sweatshirt, and a pair of leggings, and it looked chic. That was really inspiring to me and made me want that, because it did both in my mind.

Debbie Millman:

There wasn’t actually a job when you interviewed despite the job board ad, but the head of recruiting asked if she could have Xerox copies of your portfolio.

Jenna Lyons:

Well, there wasn’t a job in women’s.

Debbie Millman:

Oh, I see.

Jenna Lyons:

They had a job in men’s, but I had never done men’s, but I figured I would just go and say hi. I also was like, “Well, maybe I could try.”

Jenna Lyons:

Yes … the head of HR at the time, I still remember her. She said, “You don’t have any men’s in your portfolio.” I was like, “I know. I just figured I’d come. You never know if there’s something in the future. So, yeah, she Xeroxes my portfolio and she sent them to Emily Woods, who was living in California at the time. That night, she called me right back. Yeah, I had a very quick interview process. I flew out to L.A., met Emily and did a project. I mean, I’m shortening this but, yeah, I got the job.

Debbie Millman:

She asked you to create eight sketches for Emily Woods.

Jenna Lyons:

Oh, you know all of it.

Debbie Millman:

This is such a great part. You’re asked to make something from nothing for a company you’ve never worked for, then you do.

Jenna Lyons:

I made a booklet of men’s clothes. I had never really sketched men, so I had to learn how to sketch a male figure too, which was … I know that sounds crazy, but it’s a different thing. I’ve been sketching women, and the way that you sketch women, particularly at Parsons, there was like a rhythm to it. My hand-eye coordination, I kept making the men really tall and skinny and it looked so not manly. It was very funny. It took me a while.

Jenna Lyons:

So, yeah, I made eight men’s ideas for sketches. They sent them to Emily and then they hired me. I worked in men’s for about two weeks and then they were just like, “We’re just going to move you over to women’s because this is silly.” And, yeah, I sort of never left.

Debbie Millman:

You started as an assistant to an assistant to someone else’s assistant.

Jenna Lyons:

Yeah, basically. Just for the record, I sat where there was no desk. It was like a weird sort of hallway area and there was no real desk. It was pretty funny. This was early, early days.

Debbie Millman:

What was it like to first start seeing people wear something you designed?

Jenna Lyons:

It’s interesting. The first time it happened, it felt the same the 700th time it happened. It’s so, I don’t know, so exciting. It doesn’t matter if it’s a rugby shirt or a pair of khakis. Like there’s some weird sense of pride that someone parted with their hard-earned money and they liked something that you touched enough to purchase it, and then put it on their body. That’s just amazing. It’s an incredible reflection. It’s really powerful. I know it sounds silly, but it worked for me.

Debbie Millman:

Were you making your own clothes at the time?

Jenna Lyons:

No. I was working a lot. The company was still very young, and it had a very kind of mom-and-pop attitude. I was really excited and into it. I worked till 10 at night. You also have to remember, this was before computers, so we were sending faxes, handwriting longform faxes every night, communicating with the factories about what we wanted to tweak or change on a garment. The process of making cl
othes at that point was actually really laden with kind of busywork and memos. It was really hard. All of the sketching and stuff was done in the evening hours, writing memos about what kind of button I was looking [for]. I was just on phone calls with button vendors. It was a very different world.

Debbie Millman:

By 2011, you said that you and your colleagues were lost soldiers working away, following orders, and you were shellshocked and burned out from what was going on. What were you imagining your future would be at that point at J.Crew at that time?

Jenna Lyons:

The dates might be little bit off, but it was really right before Mickey Drexler came in. It’s really hard to put into words, but before Mickey joined, I had literally been through three complete line redos. It was exhausting. We had someone, a woman named Jean Jackson, who had been brought in by our parent company who owned us, who would want her to help and consult, so I was sort of following her direction. Then, we had a CEO who had not come from apparel, who really didn’t understand fabric. He was a lovely man, but just did not have the background for it. And then he was gone. Then this other man came in. He stayed for six months, but in that six months, we did a total redirect.

Jenna Lyons:

The trickiest part was I don’t know if I believed in what I was doing, but you get into this weird situation where in order to keep my team, I needed to hold it together and I needed to try and motivate them. So, I had to drink the Kool Aid and really try to push through particularly when they’re coming to me and saying, “I want to leave. I don’t want to be here,” and I’m like, “Please, stick it out.” They’re like, “Are you going to stay?” It was like, oh god, I wanted to go too, but I didn’t want to lie to them. So then, you get in this weird conundrum where you’re promising people you’ll stay but you really don’t want to, so now you have to get up every morning and go into a job that you don’t feel passionate about, that you’re confused and really … it was just a really, really dark time.

Jenna Lyons:

And then Mickey joined, and I thought, “I don’t know if I can do this again.” I just was really … also, what is missing in that little intersection is that it was the first time I was the boss. So, when Jean Jackson came in, they had fired my boss who was my dear friend and mentor. I didn’t have those managerial skills. I wasn’t competent in that way. I have a really distinct memory of someone saying to me—I just inherited this entire team, they were now reporting to me, I had known them maybe for … I had known the senior people who’ve been reporting to me, but I didn’t know all of their team—“Are you telling me this person on the org chart is opaque to you?” I’m like, “Well, they’re not translucent. I don’t know everyone yet.” It was just getting hammered constantly.

Debbie Millman:

You had so many choices that you could have made with your life, but you really were determined to stay loyal to your team, which I think says quite a lot about a person.

Jenna Lyons:

Oh, I think it was that. It was also, just to be fully transparent, I also don’t think my choices … J.Crew was not on the map. No one was excited about J.Crew at the time, nor myself. I remember going to parties and people would ask me what I did, and I would kind of wince and just say I work in fashion and then kind of brush over it. I wasn’t proud at that time because I didn’t feel good about what we were making and what we’re creating and the way that we looked. So, it wasn’t like I had a ton of options, it was just this weird kind of spiral.

Jenna Lyons:

When Mickey came in, like literally day three, it was like a fucking Hail Mary. He was the most exciting. It was the most exciting time of my life because everything that I wanted, he wanted. He wanted to bring back the beauty, he wanted to bring back Italian cashmere, he wanted to bring back the beautiful washed clothes that we had made and get rid of all the stretch things that have been put in, he wanted to get rid of all the slick stuff. He wanted to do real quality work where he wanted to raise the quality of the catalog and the look and the feel. Everything. I was like, “Oh, my god, this is going to be amazing.” All of that darkness really lifted very quickly.

Debbie Millman:

Your partnership marked the end of product design being dictated by corporate strategy at J.Crew and you ended up having to go about redesigning the entire aesthetic of the company. How do you go about doing that? Where do you start in that kind of endeavor?

Jenna Lyons:

First of all, it doesn’t happen overnight. I think if you really went back and looked at the trajectory over time, it did not. We were turning the Titanic and it was not fast. It took multiple seasons to really get our footing, but I do think in terms of how, I mean, I don’t know. You just, again, it was … listen, I can say I could not have done it if I wasn’t excited. I had already redesigned the line three times in the previous year and a half and that is massive, and the team was exhausted. But when you get a group of designers that are able to create things that they’re excited about, no one could stop. We couldn’t wait to get on the plane, couldn’t wait to go to Hong Kong and meet with our factories, couldn’t wait to go to fabric shows. We just couldn’t wait.

Jenna Lyons:

It’s so motivating and I think people really underestimate the power of what creative teams can do when they are excited and engaged and ignited. And I think, you said it, when you’re designing best strategy, it’s not exciting. It doesn’t yield the best results. Mickey just literally took all of that way. He separated the design team from any of that and he said, “Go and do what you love and then let’s talk.” And then he looked to the garments and said, “OK, now let’s see. Well, what do we think they should be priced at? What do we …” We used to work into a price point, and that’s very hard. It was so liberating. It’s hard to say how. We were like really gassed up. It was great.

Debbie Millman:

I read this about the sense of design at the time. There was no Kardashian-level contouring, no overt sexiness, no sense of trying too hard; sleeves were rolled up, shirts half tucked, wide-legged denim paired with leopard-print heels and sequined jackets worn with army green pants. What was the inspiration for the aesthetic that you were creating?

Jenna Lyons:

I think it was rooted in the brand heritage and also just being a magpie. I have a deep attachment to sparkly things, still do. The brand heritage was really this very classic clothing. But I’d also grown up in California and my grandmother used to send me really preppy clothes from Bergdorf Goodman because she lived here in the East Coast. I would remember getting a navy-blue blazer and like a kilt. I remember wearing that navy blazer the first day of school in eighth grade and I think it was, I don’t know, maybe 92 degrees, sweating bullets, but wearing that. I paired that with my T-shirt from The Cure and my dolphin shorts.

Jenna Lyons:

I was used to a mashup because it’s just the way I grew up, and all of my clothes were. I liked that mix of things and I think everyone that I was working with, the stylists were a huge part of that. And the designers really loved that mashup too. There was a sense of ease to things. We all wanted things to be a little messy. We had a similar vibe, so it was very much like an iteration. It was constant vibration off of other people.

Jenna Lyons:

You know, the team, the design team, the styling team, we used to have dress up days, and everyone would dress in stripes, or everyone would dress in winter, or everyone would dress in camel, or everyone will be dressed in khaki. It’s inspiring because when you give a constraint to a designer or a creative person, that’s when they actually get crazy because then they can’t think about anything else other than how they turn that one thing into magic. That’s alchemy. It was so fun and really, really inspiring.

Debbie Millman:

You said that you felt a huge drive to make clothes that everybody could have because of how you felt ostracized by the world of beauty and fashion. Did you ever imagine that the first lady of the United States and her children would be wearing your clothes at President Obama’s inauguration?

Jenna Lyons:

No. Not in a million years. I mean, still I have to pinch myself. I still miss … everything about them. It was such an incredibly inspiring time not just because they were wearing our clothes, obviously, but because they were a couple of really huge makers. Obviously, it was the first time our country actually voted to put a Black man in office. That’s incredible. It felt so hopeful to me. It felt so exciting.

Jenna Lyons:

On top of that, they were so real and connected. They did everything differently than what the past presidencies and first ladies had done. They connected with people. I think that’s what was so incredible, when Michelle Obama went on to “The Jay Leno Show” and said, “I’m wearing J.Crew.” That was a way of connecting with people. She was trying to say, “I’m just like you,” and she did. I think that really resonated with people from a brand perspective but also from a personal perspective. It was so exciting. And then on top of that, in his inaugural speech he talked about gay marriage. That’s the first time a president had publicly acknowledged that it was even a thing. They just felt really, really hopeful.

Debbie Millman:

There was something about and something that’s still really unique and special about Michelle Obama’s fashion style. When she was in office, there was a blog that was recording every single thing that she was wearing.

Jenna Lyons:

Oh, yeah.

Debbie Millman:

And I would go to it every single day.

Jenna Lyons:

Me too.

Debbie Millman:

And then the book came out. There was something so, and I’m still so dazzled by her sartorial choices and the way she combines things.

Jenna Lyons:

Completely.

Debbie Millman:

Everything was so beautifully done, and it looked so effortless. I can’t imagine that it was, but it seemed.

Jenna Lyons:

I know she had some very talented people working with her. Obviously, Ikram Goldman, who has a store in Chicago, she was behind that, and Meredith Koop who I think was also really helping to make sure that she had access to things. But again, she took choices like no one I’ve ever seen. What I’ve really loved is seeing her post-presidency, because watching her, the outfits are to die for. I love—

Debbie Millman:

I know.

Jenna Lyons:

I mean, the thigh-high gold boots and the … I can’t. I die every time. I’m so in love.

Debbie Millman:

In 2008, you became executive creative director at J.Crew. In 2010, you became president of the company. I read that the decision for you to take over as president was a two-second conversation with Mickey Drexler. Is that true?

Jenna Lyons:

He is very decisive. Just to be clear, and I think I want to clarify this for some people because I realized that it does get confusing. I was president and executive creative director of J.Crew Group, which is J.Crew, Madewell and J.Crew Factory. It was all three of those brands, so the scope of the project was pretty massive. I think I get sort of separated and put only into one bucket. It’s hard to imagine just how intense the job was but I think it gives context.

Jenna Lyons:

I think the conversation with Mickey was only two seconds because there wasn’t much to say. I mean, I think he had been gearing up to it. Mickey is very transparent, and he is clear about what he likes and what he does not like. In meetings, he would reference or defer. He would include me on things that I hadn’t been included on before. It was becoming apparent, I think, to not just myself but other people around me that that was where things were going, so when it happened, I remember walking out of the room sort of shellshocked. I hadn’t really prepared for it and I never expected it to happen. And then when it happened, I couldn’t really process it. It was a little overwhelming. It wasn’t what I had ever expected for myself nor dreamed of.

Debbie Millman:

You helped the company tripled its revenue from $690 million in 2003 to $2 billion in 2011. In 2013, The New York Times wrote an article about you with the headline, “The Woman Who Dresses America,” but The New York Post also wrote a piece, nasty, snarky piece, titled “Too Big for Your Britches.” How hard was it to balance how the media was measuring you and how you were measuring yourself?

Jenna Lyons:

Oh, god. I remember listening to Barack Obama actually talk about this. He was like, “Listen, I don’t read the press. I rely on my team to tell me what’s important and what’s happening, if there’s something I should know about, good or bad.” I know that, obviously, I was nowhere near as big as him, but I decided not to read things, and I stopped. The reason was, and his perspective, and I believe this is if you believe all the good, then you have to believe all the bad. The fact of the matter is, I know the truth. I know what’s really going on. I got credit for things I didn’t deserve credit for, I got slammed for things I probably didn’t deserve to get slammed for. And so, I think you have to just take the good with the bad and realize that it’s going to happen no matter how hard you tried. I did the best I could to be as polished with the press as possible, but I stepped in mud many times, sometimes by my own doing, sometimes just because that’s what happened.

Jenna Lyons:

I think once you put your name out there and once you put yourself out there, you are susceptible.
It comes with the territory.

Debbie Millman:

You and your then-husband split up around this time and you fell in love with a woman. What was it like to have everything you wore, everything you did, even your relationship and your then-husband, under such scrutiny?

Jenna Lyons:

It’s hard. You get in your head too much. I think the main thing I remember being the most challenging thing was that I would go from, and I know it sounds crazy, but literally having an incredible weekend being at the White House, dancing with the president and the First Lady, singing Stevie Wonder and Beyoncé, things that I never in a million years imagine would happen to me, and then come Monday morning, I’m sitting on the floor with someone who’s three years out of college negotiating about keeping a style on the line. It was a very hard balance. I did my best, but I know … it was confusing. It was emotionally confusing.

Jenna Lyons:

On top of that, it’s not the best thing for a relationship to have such kind of imbalance where I didn’t want to leave the house without putting on makeup. I was concerned about every little thing because I felt like I was under scrutiny. I lived down the street from a very popular hotel and so there are paparazzi there all the time. And so, because I happen to live here, they’re not there for me but they see me. I will be walking my dog, or getting groceries or coming back. It was a lot. I’ve embraced and really enjoyed the past couple of years of being quiet and not being out there in the limelight.

Debbie Millman:

Was it difficult to come out later in life so publicly? I didn’t come out till I was 50, so I can relate to the sudden change in how people view you.

Jenna Lyons:

I know, I know. I know a little bit. I know about your story too.

Jenna Lyons:

Well, first of all it wasn’t my choice, and the Post outed me. I got a call. I remember distinctly being in a meeting and I got paged over the intercom. There’s an intercom at J.Crew. It was Mickey Drexler and Margot Fooshee, who was the head of PR and marketing and the time. All I heard was, “We just got a call from The New York Post. They’re running a story that you are seeing a woman. Should we confirm or deny?” My heart was literally like ba-bump, ba-bump. I can feel it. I was facing the wall and I just heard my voice go, “Confirm.” There was silence in the other end. I don’t think they know what to say. They were just like, “OK. I think we need to talk.” I was like, “OK.” And so, I sat at Mickey’s office with the head of HR, the PR and then we talked and decided what to do.

Jenna Lyons:

I will say, I was treated with so much understanding and respect and acceptance. That was really incredible because I think had that not happened, while it was really challenging, I think it would’ve been much, much harder. I’m deeply grateful for everyone who helped me in that moment because it was really terrifying. I had not told my mother, I had not told my ex-husband, I had not told my son, I had not told my friends, I had not told my family. It was very new. This person had been my friend and we were barely in, and I think we … it was so, so new. I didn’t really know what was happening. So, yeah, it did make it so that I didn’t have to come out.

Debbie Millman:

You know, it’s interesting. It’s not even just the switching teams. I think it’s also just the letting everybody know in your life that’s important to you so that they feel included in something that’s happening. I had a friend that got very angry with me; she found out that I told my cousin before I told her. It’s like just that sense of people wanting to feel like they’re part of what’s happening and not left out.

Jenna Lyons:

Oh, completely. And having their own experience around it. I literally made frantic phone calls. It was 4 o’clock in the afternoon when we got the call. It was going live at midnight. Particularly at that time, anything with my name on it got picked up, so I knew it would get out there quickly. Also, president of a big American brand. My name and face is attached to the company, I had recently separated from my husband. It was juicy. They knew it was going to be interesting. The most bizarre experience was the looks that I got standing outside, picking up my son at school. That was interesting.

Debbie Millman:

Well, know that there were millions of gay women all over the world cheering for you—

Jenna Lyons:

Oh, thank you.

Debbie Millman:

… and still are.

Jenna Lyons:

Thank you. Thank you.

Debbie Millman:

In 2017, after 27 years, you decided to leave J.Crew. I read that you actually wished you’d left a few years earlier. How come?

Jenna Lyons:

I think I had become less effective. I think that there were a lot of things happening within the company that I think were probably what needed to happen, but they didn’t totally align with my desires and my motivation and my enthusiasm. I also think I had closed myself off to other opportunities, and I think that there probably would have been some other things that could have happened. But, listen, hindsight is 2020. It happened when it happened, and it probably happened the way it needed to. I think I talked myself out. I think it had run its course. It used to feel really innate and it used to feel really like I knew exactly what I wanted and felt charged about how to get the best thing and how to push through, and then it just started to shift. It was harder.

Debbie Millman:

Shortly after you left J.Crew, you and the woman that you were outed with by The New York Postalso broke up.

Jenna Lyons:

Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

Jenna, what a shitty year. Could 2017 be any worse for you?

Jenna Lyons:

Listen. I think it was that. It was also, you have to remember it too, I went from having … you know, I had a full-time assistant and then I have a second assistant who took care of everything for me. I had a PR team that also fielded any kind of press calls. I also had a full-time nanny. I went from that to nothing. I didn’t need the nanny anymore because I’m home. I lose my girlfriend. I don’t have anybody helping me. I don’t know how to use an Excel document. My whole life just kind of … I had to take back all of my … my assistant was managing all of my finances with my financial team, but really communicating with them, I hadn’t exercised those muscles in so long and it was scary. I was depressed. It sucked. Damn.

Debbie Millman:

You initially imagined that your next role might be at a big fashion house, but your phone didn’t ring. The entire year after you left was even tougher than you expected. How
did you manage? How did you get through it all?

Jenna Lyons:

Please understand, I don’t think I’d managed. I think I literally just like … it’s hard to explain. I left the job. I knew it was time to leave the job. It was my choice, but I really didn’t expect what happened afterwards. And then, on top of that, the partner thing and everything. I didn’t do much. I just put one foot in front of the other. I was really quiet. I was really, really quiet. I would sit on my couch and flip through magazines, look at books, but I don’t know if I retained anything. It was strange. I barely remember some of it. I would think I was really depressed, and I probably didn’t handle it that well, so I wouldn’t use me as a guide.

Debbie Millman:

Well, I think it sounds like you were trying to reacquaint yourself with yourself. I mean, I left a big company. I was president of a design company for 21 years and left. I also feel like I left several years after I should have, but a former partner of mine at another business had said, “Don’t leave cold turkey because you’re going to lose every sense of who you are. Leave slowly and let yourself sort of acquaint with the rest of the world.” I did that, and then I think I did it for too long and so then, by the time, it was just like get the fuck out.

Debbie Millman:

I also experienced that even just going from three days a week to then one day a week, just sort of re-inventing the threads of your being. Everything that you are, the way you understand power, the way you understand identity, the way you understand your place in things and whether you have a place or if it was your job that got you the place. It’s so—

Jenna Lyons:

I am.

Debbie Millman:

… ego toppling.

Jenna Lyons:

For sure. I will say, I don’t think that I actually started to build any of that back in any concrete way until I started to get back into the world. I think the year that I was quiet, I had no sense of how I was going to fit in or where I stood in the whole ecosystem of the fashion industry, of the beauty industry, of the business industry at large. I feel really, really grateful that I had time to figure it out and that I took the time to figure it out.

Jenna Lyons:

I didn’t seek out employment in the beginning because I was really just wanting some time off. And then now, in retrospect, I’m really happy that I didn’t, and I’m sort of happy that no one called. I think I needed a reset. I needed that. It’s funny because I think a lot of people were like, “Oh, did it hurt your feelings? Did it feel like a real ego blow?” Truthfully, I was the one who was like, “no one’s going to call and I know it.” I just knew in my heart that there was going to be a big shift in my life. And it happened.

Debbie Millman:

Do you think that people just felt that whatever they were offering wasn’t worthy of you, or do you feel that it was because you were associated so strongly with one brand? Why did you feel so strongly? Because I never would have predicted that.

Jenna Lyons:

I think probably a combination of the things you just said. I think a couple things—people expect executives to be locked up. And while I was locked up, I wasn’t locked up for that long, and certainly there’s no reason to not start conversations.

Debbie Millman:

Let me just make one thing clear for my listeners. When Jenna says “locked up,” she doesn’t meet in jail. She means with a non-compete.

Jenna Lyons:

Thank you for the clarification. Sorry.

Debbie Millman:

High-powered executives don’t always go to jail when they leave the big company.

Jenna Lyons:

Nope, they don’t. Definitely not. Some of them definitely should. I don’t think I fit in that category.

Jenna Lyons:

So, it may be assumed that I was under contract of some sort in addition, as you mentioned, particularly for a fashion brand, like I’m not going to go to Ralph Lauren or Michael Kors because those names have names on the door and I had my name. I was almost too well known in that way, and who knows if they would have wanted me anyway. I’m not saying that I could have gone there, I’m just saying that the American companies that were available to me, there weren’t a lot. Then there was the Ann Taylor and Banana Republic, and neither one of those were really the right thing. It’s just sort of another version of what I’d just done. It didn’t really feel like … so, there weren’t that many options in that regard. And then, maybe people just didn’t assume that I could do something else. I don’t know. I think it was a combination of all of those things.

Jenna Lyons:

I would have loved to try my hand at Ralph Lauren. It was my dream. I had told Anna Wintour. But Ralph is still there. There’s a team and they’re amazing. It was more of a fantasy than anything else.

Debbie Millman:

Well, now it seems you have several chapters unfurling simultaneously.

Jenna Lyons:

Yes.

Debbie Millman:

You’re the executive producer and star of the show “Stylish with Jenna Lyons” on HBO Max, which is so good.

Jenna Lyons:

Thank you.

Debbie Millman:

I’m so invested in the people that you had been testing to hire.

Jenna Lyons:

Thank you.

Debbie Millman:

I think you made the right decision.

Jenna Lyons:

Thank you.

Debbie Millman:

It’s just so exciting to see what you’re doing. You started a bespoke false eyelash company, which I’ve also bought eyelashes from now. You’re working on the design of a hotel chain and opening pop-up stores. You’ve called your new company Lyons Life After Death. L.A.D.

Jenna Lyons:

Yes.

Debbie Millman:

So, is there any other backstory other than coming back to life with the name?

Jenna Lyons:

Yeah. It’s interesting. There’s been a little bit of a shift in all of that, but I think when I first started, I realized I was taking on quite a few projects. I had this hotel project. Just to be clear, it’s not a chain of hotels. It’s a one-boutique hotel in the Bahamas in Elbow Cay, just to be clear.

Debbie Millman:

OK.

Jenna Lyons:

I don’t want anybody to think that there’s going to be more of them, because then I can’t do other ones. So, if somebody has another one—

Debbie Millman:

It’s true.

Jenna Lyons:

I’m for sale. I’m for hire. So, when I was doing all these different projects, I realized that I had all these things coming in and I was paying people out of my bank account. I sat down with my accountant and he’s like, “You need to have some sort of hub.” So, I created Lyons LAD as a way for me to have a hub and be able to actually pay people out of that.

Jenna Lyons:

As things have gotten bigger, I’ve been looking into a sort of a design consultancy company, which we’ve been calling Sort of Creative. Sort of Creative Agency. The reason is, we make this joke that we’re like, “Well, that’s sort of creative. Is that creative or is it sort of creative?” The reason is because they are now these new people in the mix and it’s not just me, so I wanted to sort of remove it. So, Lyons LAD is the original, and now we’re going to do Sort of Creative Agency.

Jenna Lyons:

I have other projects brewing. I’m working on a furniture line with Roll & Hill. So, there’s that. I’m also consulting with Rockefeller Center, who is working on reinvigorating Rockefeller Center and all of the retail and food and beverage, and just the look and feel. That’s been incredibly fun and really exciting. So, yeah, there’s a lot going on.

Debbie Millman:

Your television show is really wonderful.

Jenna Lyons:

Thank you.

Debbie Millman:

In 2014, you played a Conde Nast editor in a three-episode arc on season three of Girls.

Jenna Lyons:

Yes.

Debbie Millman:

But other than that, you had no experience in television. What has it been like learning something entirely new?

Jenna Lyons:

Harrowing? I am grateful that at my age I get to learn a new trade like that. It’s pretty incredible, and to be able to do it at an executive producer level. The particular challenge though is as I had never done it before, I had no idea how to move the needle on things. I didn’t know what levers to pull, I didn’t know the order things needed to be done. I made so many mistakes just in terms of the way that I thought about how it would get done. I just didn’t understand. I’ve learned a ton, but it was probably one of the hardest and also most rewarding and fun things I’ve had the chance to work on.

Jenna Lyons:

Being in front of the camera, not so fun, really hard. The number of times I went to the bathroom with my mic on. I’m like, “Why am I so hot?” I’m like, “Oh, I have a microphone on my back,” and then I realized I’m sitting on the toilet. Or like having a conversation in the corner, talking to somebody and you’re like, “Wa, wa, wa, wa” and you realized that everyone can hear you. It’s very like invasive. They were in my home, they were in my office, they were in my underwear drawer. It was a lot.

Debbie Millman:

You were involved in literally everything, from the graphics to the music to the editing to the color. I know you experimented with 54 names before landing on Stylish.

Jenna Lyons:

Yes. Yes.

Debbie Millman:

The show is sort of a mix of both—I described it before as a reality TV show, but it’s really kind of a reality TV show and a documentary.

Jenna Lyons:

Yeah.

Debbie Millman:

Why this hybrid approach?

Jenna Lyons:

I think mostly because I wasn’t comfortable doing a reality show based on the way reality shows were being put out there at the time. And so, when I originally spoke with the network, it was really important to me that I wanted it to be reality, meaning wanting it to feel real and not with quotes.

Debbie Millman:

Well, it’s a wonderful show.

Jenna Lyons:

Thank you.

Debbie Millman:

I’m not a reality TV person. When Roxane realized that it was reality TV, she was so excited because I generally don’t want to watch reality TV show with her. She’s like, “We can watch this together.” She loved it too. We’re rooting for different people.

Jenna Lyons:

Thank you.

Debbie Millman:

You were supposed to tape 10 shows, but because of COVID the show ended up eight episodes—

Jenna Lyons:

Correct.

Debbie Millman:

… and filmed the last one in the middle of the pandemic with masks and social distancing, trying to do a pop-up store. How hard was that? I mean, talk about challenges.

Jenna Lyons:

I related the year 2020 to like business twister. I felt like I was constantly trying to put my hand on the blue dot with my right leg twisted underneath me to the green dot and my other hand had is on the … it just was really, there’s nothing about the way that I’m used to working that is connected to distance and COVID. It was just the most incredibly challenging. When we shot the last episode, it was so incredibly hard, not to mention the fact that it was like 100 degrees every day we were shooting and we just happened to pick the final week of filming to be the most excruciating week of the year. I was just … oh, my god. I still can’t believe it actually happened.

Jenna Lyons:

And then … we’re getting ready to launch a business. LoveSeen was literally percolating and coming. Everything collided at once because originally the show was supposed to launch in May, then it got pushed to June, July, August, September. And then we were trying to launch this lash business. LoveSeen launched in September and then the show ended up launching after. It was messy, messy, messy.

Debbie Millman:

You also sold the house in the process.

Jenna Lyons:

Oh, there’s that. Yes, one of the projects for the show was redoing a house. My ex-girlfriend, we still owned a house together in upstate New York. We had had a leak from a broken shower valve. It had been a really slow leak, so we didn’t realize. It collapsed the roof and ruined the furniture and ruined the floors. We redid the house as part of the seventh episode and turned around and sold it and also closed out that chapter. We’ve been sharing that house for the last three years. It did not lack emotional fortitude. There were a lot of
tears.

Debbie Millman:

When I saw the house, the original before you redid it, I cried. I was like, “Oh, my god. The floor is buckled.”

Jenna Lyons:

It’s really hard. I know, it seems like a thing, and of course it is just a thing and it’s obviously fixable and it’s not a person, but it is amazing how much you attach homes to experiences and life experience. I just felt like the house was representing the relationship in some way, that it kind of fell apart and buckled. I wasn’t really upset about the house. I mean, of course, it was sad to see that, but it was just like, god, I felt like the house was talking to me and I was like, “Oh, I’m sorry.” And then they have cameras watching you. There was that too.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah. Oh, my god.

Jenna Lyons:

I know.

Debbie Millman:

Will the show be coming back for a second season?

Jenna Lyons:

I don’t know. I hope so.

Debbie Millman:

I do too. Let us know.

Jenna Lyons:

I will let you know.

Debbie Millman:

You’ve also launched a new eyelash business. Did you ever consider calling it Stylash? Stylish with Stylash.

Jenna Lyons:

That’s kind of great. I love that. We’ll do an email called Stylash. I think that’s good.

Debbie Millman:

Yes. With your friend Troi Ollivierre. What made you decide to do that? It’s such a unique and unusual thing to do.

Jenna Lyons:

I know. It’s so weird, right? I mean, honestly. It was kind of another weird, happy accident. I don’t have any eyelashes, so I’m obsessed with eyelashes. It’s part of the side effects of my genetic disorder, and so I noticed them in everyone. I noticed all the women at J.Crew coming into the office wearing eyelash extensions. These women didn’t wear any makeup. They were very, very clean. So, I thought it was interesting that they’re getting eyelash extensions. And then, on the flip side, I was watching all of these YouTube videos of these women wearing contour, eight shades of eyeshadow and lip liner, highlighters.

Jenna Lyons:

They would finish themselves and I was like, “Holy shit.” It was like a different person. But then, they would finish with an eyelash, and I thought it was so interesting that two completely opposing concepts of beauty were focusing on eyelashes. I thought, “Wow. Maybe there’s something in between,” because when I looked at the landscape, everything was pretty over the top. I wanted them, I liked them, I loved what they do but the expressions of beauty and also the lashes themselves were pretty bold. I wanted something that was a little different.

Jenna Lyons:

And so, I was having a conversation with my now partners from Magnet and I just, I don’t know, just threw it out there. They got excited, we got excited, and here we are. We’re off to the races. It happened. I mean, launching a business during COVID. Like, please, never again in my life.

Debbie Millman:

But the fact is, for those of us, like me, who love having eyelash extensions but can’t because of COVID, it’s a great, great solve and you can get addicted. You have lots of different styles of lashes. The name of your company is LoveSeen—

Jenna Lyons:

Correct.

Debbie Millman:

… and the names of the lash varieties all have four letters: Cate, Inez, Noor, Troi, Jack, Axel, Levi, Iris, Luca and Romy. I bought Cate because I think that that’s a good lash for a droopy eye like I have due to lashes. So, what do you make of the increase in the business of eyelashes? When do you see that having really taken off? Because now I think it’s reaching a tipping point where it’s become interesting.

Jenna Lyons:

It is amazing. Listen, I think that there has been a dramatic shift in the beauty business at large if you really think about. … The fashion industry as well. It’s really been turned over to the people, so to speak. It’s moved away from the industry pushing down and telling you what you should have. Now, the people are saying “this is what we want,” and the businesses are listening. I think that is pretty remarkable. It’s a massive paradigm shift in business in general. I think, as you see more people doing makeup videos and putting lashes on, there’s a clear understanding, and I think businesses are starting to understand, that there’s all different desires.

Jenna Lyons:

While for the most part you had a pretty, pretty singular look and feel in the beauty industry, the glamor was kind of the same. If you looked at Maybelline, Revlon, CoverGirl, all the big ones, they didn’t look that different. Now, you’re getting Huda Beauty, who is doing total over-the-top glam, and then you’re getting Ilia, which is doing really pared-down clean. You have Glossier, which is literally just sort of kissing yourself with beauty but not really changing yourself. There’s all different ways that people are playing, and I think it’s changed the way that industry has addressed things. The biggest shifts I think are eyelashes for one, and then just the skin foundations. If you look at the world of foundation, it is literally a hundred million times different than it was five years ago. There are so many more options, and I think that’s incredible, and there should be. Ironically, that’s just what we’re trying to do. Eyelashes are pretty much only for people who really wanted big glam and big makeup. What we’re saying is, “OK, well, what about the people that don’t want big glam and big makeup? Still want the kick but don’t really want to do that full expression?”

Jenna Lyons:

I don’t like to wear black eyeliner all the time. I can wear the Luca or the Iris in brown and do a tiny little bit of brown shadow on my lash line. I don’t get that heavier makeup look and I can wear them walking my dog, which I normally do. I love it.

Debbie Millman:

Yeah. I love beauty that is easy.

Jenna Lyons:

Me too.

Debbie Millman:

I love the new brow craze as well—so I can do my brow and I can have a lash and just throw in some lipstick and that’s it.

Jenna Lyons:

Totally.

Debbie Millman:

I still look more put together that I would’ve if I just sort of rolled out of it.

Jenna Lyons:

Totally. Especially in a Zoom call. I really do think about it when I put on the lash. I’ve gotten good at it. The tool has helped tremendously.
I know you said that you had a little bit of a hard time.

Debbie Millman:

I’m learning.

Jenna Lyons:

Listen, everyone does. No one gets it right the first time. I have now learned some tricks that have really helped, but the tool makes it much easier. Now I can get them on in two seconds, and I’m like, “Damn, it really does make a difference on my calls.” I’m like, “Oh, snazzy.”

Debbie Millman:

Well, I understand before the pandemic you’d never heard of Zoom. I hadn’t either, actually.

Jenna Lyons:

I hadn’t. I had never been on a Zoom call. I mean, my work is so tactile. You know, it’s interesting, I was talking to the girl from the Crown Affair, they are a brand of haircare. We were texting back and forth because she had posted all these pictures of her getting ready to produce the line. There were all these boards lined up and it’s like, “Oh, god. I’ve never missed a board more in my entire life.” Like, boards with images where you can move things around and pin it over here. I was like, “I don’t want to pin it on the computer. I just don’t want to.”

Debbie Millman:

I want to touch it.

Jenna Lyons:

Me too.

Debbie Millman:

Jenna, I have two last questions for you. The first, I understand Ashley Merriman, the chef at the restaurant Prune, has been cooking for you.

Jenna Lyons:

Yes.

Debbie Millman:

Her wife, Gabrielle Hamilton, was a guest on the show a few months ago. What kinds of things are they making you?

Jenna Lyons:

Oh, my god. I have to say, it is like the saving grace of COVID. I have been eating like a fucking queen. It’s amazing. I mean, there’s this stuff I call crack, which is basically this roasted smoked tomatoes with onions and olive oil. It just goes on anything. It is probably one of the single-best things I’ve ever had in my life. She makes this [inaudible] stew that is to die for. She makes the most incredible white bean salad that I like absolutely, white bean salad and a white bean soup that I love. A French onion soup that is insane, duck breast with … oh, and agrodolce. I didn’t even know what agrodolce was.

Debbie Millman:

I don’t what that is. It sounds good.

Jenna Lyons:

It’s like onion crack. It’s basically all these different onions and then you put them in a pan with a little bit of butter and a little bit of sugar and then they crack. It’s insanity. It goes on everything well. I could go on and on. It’s been the best. She’s incredible. I’m so lucky.

Debbie Millman:

So, my last question is this, and it’s rather silly. I understand that texting has saved the relationship that you have with your mother.

Jenna Lyons:

It’s totally true. I hate to say this—my mom, and she will say this, my mom suffers from Asperger’s, and it’s not as easy for her communication. She just doesn’t always know how to emote and finds it troubling, challenging. We’ve struggled. It’s really interesting, you know, you can change the tone of a text so deeply with a heart emoji, or a crazy face. Now that she’s gotten used to it and understands how to use them, a lot of things that I think would have been said before that have might had fallen flat or might have triggered me into feeling like maybe the way I interpreted it, you know with a simple heart and flower or exclamation point, I have completely changed. It’s really softened our engagement and made it easier for us to connect, and connect more frequently and just be … I don’t know. You know, sharing pictures and liking the things. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s been really, really helpful.

Debbie Millman:

No one would have predicted how popular texting was going to be. There was no future of saying we’re going to all be using emojis in 15 years 15 years ago. But there’s something about the efficiency of it that I think has sort of democratized conversation in a lot of ways.

Jenna Lyons:

You know, I’ll say, “Oh, I miss you. I can’t wait to see you,” in a different, like with a bunch of hearts. It somehow feels different than when you’re on a call with your mom. You’re like, “OK, bye mom.” You don’t take the time because there’s things I’ll say in text that I probably wouldn’t, and she too. My mom made her own emoji. What is it called? What are those things called?

Debbie Millman:

An avatar or a bitmoji?

Jenna Lyons:

Bitmoji, yes. My mom has her own bitmoji. My mom is 88. My mom has got a bitmoji and she sent that thing through. I’m like, “Yes, mom. It’s so great.” I’m so proud of her. I’m like, you go. It’s incredible. I don’t know, that’s the kind of stuff that like, it really does. It helps. It feels like … she’s always been really good at being on top of whatever it is now. Because she was a piano teacher, so she always was around young kids, which I think is really incredible. It’s kept her kind of connected. And now she really tries. She tries very hard, and I really appreciate it. It’s definitely hats off, mom. Nice work.

Debbie Millman:

Jenna Lyons, thank you, thank you, thank you for helping to make the world a more stylish, joyful place.

Jenna Lyons:

Thank you.

Debbie Millman:

And thank you so much for joining me today on Design Matters.

Jenna Lyons:

Thank you. Yeah, I’m so impressed with your research. That was an incredible interview. I really appreciate it, and it was so incredibly—

Debbie Millman:

Oh, thank you.

Jenna Lyons:

… nice. So nice to talk to you.

Debbie Millman:

“Stylish with Jenna Lyons” is currently on HBO Max, and you can read all about her new eyelash line and buy eyelashes for yourself. LoveSeen at loveseen.com.

Debbie Millman:

This is the 17th year we’ve been podcasting Design Matters, and I’d like to thank you for listening. And remember, we can talk about making a difference, we can make a difference, or we can do both. I’m Debbie Millman, and I look forward to talking with you again soon.

The post Design Matters: Jenna Lyons appeared first on PRINT Magazine.

Fanny Singer all but grew up in Chez Panisse. Her mother, Alice Waters’, famous Berkeley restaurant. She went on to become a curator, co-founder of the design brand Permanent Collection, and a writer contributing to Art Forum and other magazines. But she’s never strayed too far from Alice Waters’ food. In 2015, she co-wrote a cookbook with her mother, and this year she circled back to her childhood with a memoir and cookbook called Always Home: A Daughter’s Recipes and Stories. She joins me from her home in Berkeley, California. Fanny Singer, welcome to Design Matters.

Thank you, Debbie, it’s so nice to be here with you.

Fanny, I understand you have the same birthday as Julia Child.

I do. And Napoleon, I hasten to add.

I found the Julia Child one to be much more interesting.

But yes, no, and actually I remember being with Julia on at least one birthday one time in California when she was visiting. She was a friend of my mom’s and obviously a kind of mentor and a deep spiritual connection there, so yeah, a special birthday twin to have.

You are the only daughter of Alice Waters—farm-to-table pioneer, food activist, the Edible Schoolyard Project founder and creator of the legendary restaurant Chez Panisse—and Stephen Singer, the renowned winemaker, entrepreneur and artist. And I understand that you think you’re the only kid in Berkeley, maybe the world, who has seen the movie The Baker’s Wifemore times than The Little Mermaid. Is that true?

Yeah, I think that’s definitely a safe assertion. The Pagnol films from which my name was also derived were a kind of amniotic fluid from my mom. It was the inspiration for Chez Panisse, it was the inspiration for so much of the culture that she tried to develop at that restaurant, and of course for so many of the names. My name, and then when my dad opened a bar right next door, it was called Cesar, which was also named from the Marcel trilogy, which is where my name comes from. But The Baker’s Wife is a real favorite too and definitely a movie that’s been screened multiple times in this house when I was little, for sure. Although I wasn’t deprived of Disney, I will say. I did get to watch a lot of the films that my peers were watching.

You’ve written about how you don’t really remember a time in your life before taste and a world that wasn’t permeated by flavor, and I understand that breakfast was always an event in your household and that you were a merciless porridge critic. In what way?

I just had really strong feelings, even as a very young child, about how it should be prepared, and I didn’t like milk very much. This will probably surprise a lot of people, but my mom had this dated notion around the health of dairy products. It was coming from a post-1950s backlash against the eggs and bacon diet. She maintained that nonfat yogurt and nonfat milk were the healthiest things she could give me but it meant that I hated milk because nonfat milk is terrible empirically.

And yet it was the only milk that was available in our house. So I kind of had already a very conflicted relationship to milk but I still liked the way it added a touch of creaminess to porridge, so there was the cook in water and then at a late stage, addition of milk. My dad was usually … just batting me away from him, like “No, too hot, you’re boiling it.” And I mean I’m sure in general I was just a nightmare as a kid because I was encouraged to have such opinions and to actually look at my food and think about my food, and what it tasted like and be discerning. So sometimes it went I’m sure too far in that direction and then I was just insufferable. I’m sure.

Well, you were born 13 years after your mother founded Chez Panisse, and when you were little, as your mother was testing recipes I know she encouraged you to tell her when something was too salty or too bitter and to cultivate autonomy in your likes and your dislikes. And you’ve said that this gave you a sense of being able to implicitly trust your tongue and your nose from really early on, and I was wondering if there was anything that you particularly didn’t like as you were growing up and refused to eat?

I mean, I speak at great length about my dislike of anchovies. They were just so pungent, and I don’t think I was a supertaster or super sensor or whatever they’re called, where it’s like they actually can’t tolerate anything other than bland food because everything that’s outside of this margin is just deeply offensive to them. I liked some crazy tastes and I liked things that were fermented and I liked things that were really bitter, but anchovies were just my bugbear when I was a kid. Then, of course, now I adore anchovies.

I could just have toast with anchovies for dinner and that would be a perfect dinner for me. But there was a period that was actually relatively long-lasting because even when I worked at Chez Panisse as a young teenager in the salad department, I was tortured by having to watch and prepare and filet a can of anchovies, which went into almost it seemed every dish at Chez Panisse because there was always the need to, every single day, deal with the disgusting, stinky canister of them.

But no, I had Catholic tastes as a kid. I would just eat anything. Fat on meat was one other thing that I would always sort of bristle at. But I was open and my mom I think also, she quite genuinely never said, “You have to eat that.” There was just not that kind of rhetoric of more punitive relationship to eating or what’s on my plate or leaving leftovers or anything like that. So it felt like she would actually be responsive to what my reaction was and take it in stride, which I think is what also emboldened me and also gave me the sense of, like you said, autonomy.

You’ve stated that you believe you have an ultra-sensitive nose, so much so that there were many instances where your overactive sense of smell was such a source of parental grief that your dad used to compare you to the German Shepherds who sniff out drugs at airports. When did you first become aware of this trait? Do you have a memory of first realizing that your nose was so super sensitive?

God, from the very beginning. I think it’s why I have these taste memories, is b
ecause I think the smell is really the dominant thing. I have this actual memory from when I was three of eating ice cream but it’s really, I think, it was as much smell. You know the way that smell and taste become interwoven enhances that memory, so I just remember smell being a part of most of my memories and that, to me, is kind of an indication of how extensively developed that sense is, that it is the dominant way that I have even decoded my entire childhood. My history and all these stories.

But yeah, my dad would take me to go smell and taste wine when I was really little, and there was a real emphasis on actually smelling things. One of the great things about this trip, actually, a couple of years ago to Japan with my mom, was I realized there was a real culture of smelling the tea before you steep it, or smelling some of the herbs that go into a dish, and we kind of lost that in America. We don’t have that almost reverential relationship for the raw ingredient, and then having multiple different sensory experiences with it. You smell it first and then you taste it.

But that’s actually what my childhood was like. Because everything you would smell first, and you would know it in that state, and then you would have the experience of tasting it prepared however it was going to be prepared. But even still, my mom has this massive garden of roses in the back. Throughout this pandemic, they’ve been gracing us with blooms, and every time one blooms she’s like, “Smell it.” Is the first thing. Not “look at how beautiful this thing is.” Like, “You have to smell this.” So it’s almost like an olfactory culture in this house.

One smell I know you love is the smell of a chicken roasting at high temperature. But I couldn’t help but connect that when you wrote about how when it’s cooked in the kitchen without ample ventilation, it led to your coining of a word. I’m wondering if you can share that word, both its meaning and its spelling.

Yes. It derives from the French. It’s to be pouleted. So poulet is the word for chicken in French. It’s spelled P-O-U-L-E-T, so it’s like to be pouleted. I think I spelled it, just added an ED at the end, but phonetically it would be P-O-O-L-A-Y–E-D.

But that term came because, for a time when I was in England doing my Ph.D, I lived in student quarters that had a shared, really perfunctory kitchen, and I was going through a period where I was trying to be really rigorous about going to the library. So sometimes I was trying to prepare something for dinner before so I could stay at the library really late, and I remember I was going through the succinct period of roasting chickens at 7 in the morning, and I set off a fire alarm in the entire building with one of these chickens.

And I mean, everyone in their pajamas at 7:15 in the morning. Everyone had to come into the courtyard, and I was the culprit with roasting a chicken. People were like, “are you insane?” And maybe I am but I will do almost anything for a good roast chicken.

Did you end up having to feed the entire dorm that night?

I definitely passed around some cookies in the next few days. I felt pretty contrite. But I was infuriating to everyone because I was the only one who took seriously the using of that kitchen. So I was like, “It’s me again.” Cooking a proper meal in here when you’re trying to make some ramen.

Well, I am definitely taking on that word for when our kitchen ventilation isn’t quite what it needs to be and the smoke alarm goes off, which happens from time to time. I live in a house with an avid cook as well.

It’s very important. But there’s a few I should elaborate the lexicon for you. There’s also to be steaked out if you cook a steak.

OK.

And there’s—you’ve gone fishing if you really just cover yourself in the smell of fish. The reason pouleted was given this French twist is because that episode in graduate school when I forced everyone out of their beds, I was dating a French biologist, so we would always talk about getting pouleted.

It really, it has a nice ring to it. I like the word very much. When you were 8 years old your mom published the first of two children’s books themed around your experiences at Chez Panisse, titled Fanny in France: Travel Adventures of a Chef’s Daughter, With Recipes. And at the time you thought that being a heroine of a picture book was terrific, and you’ve written about how you didn’t need to be coerced into tagging along with your mom to book signings and interviews.

And in March of this year, this very strange and surreal year, you published your first solo book, titled Always Home: A Daughter’s Recipes and Stories. How have these two experiences with sharing the limelight with your mom as an 8-year-old and now as an adult having your first book launched during a pandemic, how have they differed for you?

Massively. I mean, you know when I was 8 and Fanny at Chez Panisse first came out it was a very surreal experience. I had no point of reference for that, and I didn’t really have much to do with it, either. I was 8. So my mom decided to write this book, and she thought that it would be a fun way to tell stories of the Chez Panisse philosophy and share recipes with kids and I was like, yeah OK.

I mean, I didn’t really have a sense of what the extent or reach of that would be, but then here, so many years later, Andy Samberg is putting Fanny at Chez Panisse in his top 10 for his quarantine period because he’s reading it to his daughter.

It’s so good.

And that’s really sweet that it still has that longevity. So, Fanny in France was published much more recently. I mean, that was published in the last handful of years, and the idea there was to also … I think with my mom’s, especially her activism work with the Edible Schoolyard, was to try and talk about the foundational things that brought her into a relationship with food—that she thinks is the way that we should really educate children and be present and understand correlations to agriculture and production, which is something she really gleaned from spending time in France when she was in her 20s.

So it was a way for her to continue talking about these really salient issues right now. As a much older adult, I was like, “Do you have to do another book? Do you have to?” And then I was like, “Fine, whatever, of course.” But there was this period after the first book was published and then it sort of had its initial life span, and then I was in high school when someone adapted it for a Broadway play. And that was a different kettle of fish. I was wishing death upon that play. I was really just hoping it wouldn’t be good enough to go anywhere beyond a more local theater in San Francisco.

And I mean no offense to the lovely people who produced it, but it was just a relief to me that it was not something that ended up going particularly far, because as a teenager I was much more sensitive to the strangeness of having your life paraded out like that. And then I went for college and afterward, I traveled back East and to England, and I lived in England for 11 years, and I was really doing nothing to do with food. I mean, I was doing a Ph.D.
in Art History and it wasn’t that I was rejecting food, I just wasn’t choosing a career in food in a very direct way.

I was continuing of course to always cook for people and have people and the aforementioned fire alarm incident, forcing people out of their beds because I was cooking, but I was choosing a different route, and very intentionally. And I think that’s what allowed me to come back and then look at this relationship that I have with my mother and with food and with the restaurant, and do it in an intimate way without it feeling like it was getting away from me. Feeling like I was doing it on my own terms.

Your choice of the title, Always Home, had nothing to do with an impending pandemic. I mean, the timing is rather ironic.

It’s insane.

Given that we’re always home now.

I mean, as far as book releases in the middle of a pandemic go, I probably hit the jackpot. It was like, I couldn’t have chosen a more ridiculous title. So I think some people were just buying it because of how over-the-top, almost tongue-in-cheek it seemed, and because you could take a photo of the cover and be like, this author hit the nail on the head with this one. So being always home and being back at my mom’s house, especially because I came here early on in the pandemic to be with her and help her.

I mean, obviously, we still don’t know very much about this pandemic or this virus but at the time it seemed really urgent to try and make sure that she was getting help and not going out and doing things herself. And then have the added bonus of we were able to do a bunch of events together, and we started making these little cooking videos, which we both love doing, and my friend Nod edits, and they’re just really exactly actually a reflection of our relationship, which is great. So it’s ended up being kind of serendipitous. I felt completely insane to be here instead of on a book tour, as planned, but at the same time, it was not the worst outcome, I suppose.

Your book is a memoir, but in many ways it is also a love letter to your mother, one of the most important chefs and food activists of our time. What made you decide to write this particular book?

I think I honestly felt like it was the book that had to be written before I could write anything else. On the one hand, I’m aware, of course, that there is an appetite for stories about my mother, and a more intimate understanding of who she is. Her own autobiography sold very well as did, I think, the biography that was written about her.

People are inquisitive and interested in what it is that’s made her, her. But I think for me it wasn’t so much about satisfying that curiosity as it was a way for me to really look profoundly at this relationship that matters so much to me. I mean, it is the most important relationship in my life. I don’t have kids yet and it’s hard for me to consider being close in this way to anyone else and yet at the same time it was a difficult thing to navigate as a young adult, and as someone who’s trying to develop her set of interests independently from this very magnetic and very beloved person.

So it was kind of a way for me to almost diagnose and treat something and then just put it somewhere. Consolidate it and then say, “All right, I’ve done that, what’s the next thing?” Which is not to say there won’t be other food-related things or that there won’t be other projects with my mother. It would be really fun actually to do some kind of television show together, especially in light of discovering what we thought at the beginning would not be comic but is rather a buddy comedy cooking experience. But at the same time, it feels like it gives me some freedom to do whatever that next thing is.

For people that want to see the little films that you’re making with your mom, where would they go to look at them?

They are on both my mom’s and my Instagram feeds, and they’re little IGTV videos. We’ve got another one coming up. BLTs will be out any day now. They’re very funny.

They’re wonderful. Fanny, yours was not a childhood in which sugar reigned supreme, but in Always Home, you recount a memory that you alluded to a little while ago, of when you first tasted ice cream. I’m wondering if you could share that memory from your book with us now in this short excerpt?

Sure, yes. So this is, I’m in Italy, just to set the scene. I think we’re somewhere outside of Siena and it was after my parent’s wedding. I was already alive at that point, I attended that wedding, then we went to Italy together.

So when I received the golden waffle cone in hand with just a modest ball slotted into it I knew intuitively to apply it to my mouth.

The smell was seductive but muted by the cold. The taste on the other hand was intoxicating. The sugar used in that gelato produced a flavor that was completely indistinct from that of the fruit it was meant to intensify, which is to say it was exactly the right amount of sugar. Neither too much nor too little. It had a platonic taste of strawberry, of the ripest honied late summer berries so perfectly distilled that the taste seemed almost audible.

It could not be confined to the realm of the tongue. So much so that I forgot that my mouth was in fact the best place to receive this newfound mana. I began to use the cone like a melting frozen marker to draw over the whole of my face. I wanted to merge with this food, not just eat it, but to experience it. My clothes, my hair all were victims of the brief but unforgettable encounter.

I don’t remember anything else about that day and indeed very little, if anything, about that trip to Italy but I know that my memory of my communion with the Gods of sugar and ice cream is firsthand and real. Not merely something told to me or photographed. This etched onto my palate alongside the most indelible of my life’s food memories.

I don’t think my parents took a photo, nor did they try to stop me from sullying every inch of my dress. They just looked on at what happens in the moment that marks the end of two years of living on the planet ignorant of ice cream. And even though my parents returned to the sugar-free regime and adhered to it with lamentable rigor, I think they were both pleased to watch me fleetingly lose my mind in flavor.

It’s such a wonderful excerpt, Fanny, and so evocative. I can just see you with this little hand and this little cone and just trying to consume it from every possible pore in your body. Thank you for sharing that with us. You write so beautifully about how you were brought up with food and around food and you’ve written about how you don’t think you were ever once told to use your knife and fork. You go on to share, and it may have been the same trip to Italy, “I don’t know where pizza is consumed with a fork and a knife.” You were regarded as a feral child brought up by a pair of pitiful Americans. And I also wanted to ask, is it true that you like to toss salad with your hands?

I do, one of the greatest tragedies of this pandemic is that if you’re cooking for any more than just y
ourself, you have to use tongs or salad spoons or salad servers or whatever, and Tamara Adler actually, the two of us were talking about this early on in the pandemic—like you have to toss salad with your hands. You feel how much dressing is on there and whether you need more, whether you need more lettuce to help extend the dressing if it’s overdressed.

And then it allows you to just quickly taste a leaf and make sure it has the right amount of acid or enough salt. These things that we used to do with great ease, and especially I think restaurant cooks are very familiar with that, that the home cook I think should be emboldened to toss salads with their hands. It really acquaints you with what the dish needs and it helps you feel, I think, more intuitive about what the problems or the corrections that need to be made. But yeah, it’s been a very tong-filled last few months, sadly.

I have been somebody, for whatever reason—and I don’t know why—I’ve always borrowed food from other people’s plates, or maybe the better word is stolen. And I’ve been doing this for as long as I can remember. I see something on somebody’s plate, maybe they’re not eating it fast enough or they don’t seem to want any more of it, and I’ll just take it off somebody’s plate. And I read years ago that when you do that, you’re really showing how affectionate you are with somebody because, I guess, of the intimacy. So whenever somebody complains about my doing it, I just remind them that this is actually a sign of true love and intimacy, and they should just allow me to take as much as I want.

It is. And you’d make very good bedfellows with my mother, who’s always trying to proffer things from her plate to the mouths of others, so you guys would be snug as a bug in a rug there with that behavior. But I think there is something very generous about the take and the give, you know? … I’ve always bristled at a date who’s like, “I’m ordering my dish, you’re ordering your dish and we’re not going to share.” I’m like, “What?” What’s the point?

I want, first of all, to taste as many things as I can when I go to a restaurant. I’m interested in just what might immediately appeal to me but maybe another 10 dishes on the menu.

See, I like to take food from other people’s dishes but I don’t like it when they take from mine. So I guess that makes me selfish.

Oh, I see, it’s a one-way street.

It’s a one-way street. I only want to take, I don’t want to give.

I see.

I have a lot of food jealousy, I have to admit. I see something on somebody’s plate and I want to try it too, but generally speaking, I like to eat everything on my plate, so I don’t want to share. Oh well, I guess I’ll talk about that with my therapist. I know you and your mom share some interesting kitchen characteristics as evidenced by your wonderful videos, but also some significant differences. And you’ve written about how anything requiring patience or exacting methodology or just about anything whatsoever that needs to be measured was bound to be foiled by what you refer to as her hummingbird attention span.

And you’re the same way. You cook with high heat, very fast, always with intense amounts of flavor and zero measuring. You have no interest in following recipes and generally exhibit what you’ve said or you described as a brazen ignorance of their wisdom when it comes to baking. So I was wondering if you can talk a bit about what happened during your first week of cooking in Chez Panisse as a teenager, making both gingerbread cake and custard?

Oh yeah, that was a dark period. I was about 15, I think, and I was kind of cycling through different departments in the restaurant doing these mini-stages. And I was in the pastry department for a scant few days because in the first day and a half I managed to put 50% too many eggs into a custard, and I mean 50%, that is a lot too many.

That’s a lot of eggs.

It came out the consistency of a coddled egg. It was just eggs, basically, and then the other thing I did was omit the molasses from a gingerbread cake and it was kind of a head-shaking, like we’re so sorry, but she’s got to go.

Were you demoted?

I was expelled, which is a hard thing to imagine, telling your boss that their daughter is too incompetent for your department and worried perhaps about some recrimination. But my mom was like, “Oh. I suspected that might be the case, I think.” I just didn’t have the mathematics or the reflexes for baking, that is required to do it well.

Yeah, I don’t either.

But I was very happy to go back to salad. That was my very happy home. So back in the salad station within the week.

Now, because you’ve written a book that includes recipes and your mom has written a number of books about you that include recipes, I’m wondering how you feel about following either your mom’s recipes, or your original recipes. Or are you continually improvising?

I really love recipes. Even though I say I like brazen ignorance of their wisdom, with baking that’s sort of half true. I will always read through, and especially if I’m trying to bake something, it’s mainly I just have a hard time following those instructions when I’m adding things at the right time because I am a very intuitive cook. So I love reading the savory recipes of a number of fabulous cooks, mainly to be inspired around flavor combinations and to think about ingredients in different ways. And certain preparations do require a method unfamiliar to me but there’s always a part of me that’s like, “Five basil leaves? 15 to like a huge bunch, come on.”

And I have enough knowledge of cooking to know that that actually will be good. So it’s like there’s always a sense of elasticity around a recipe, which is why my recipes are so open, because I know that people have tastes that will differ from mine and there’s not a strong sense of ‘if you don’t do this exactly’ … four garlic. What does four garlic cloves mean anyway? Some garlic cloves are this big, some are the size of thumbnails. Some are the size of your fist. You can’t really trust that anyway when it’s not a question of exact teaspoons and things.

So I love the cooks like David Tanis who are always so elastic about tasting and tweaking and trying new. … Just it feels like an experimentation, but guided by someone very knowledgeable. So I feel that shape in these recipes. … And especially with my mom’s books, they’re all being tested so much coming through the restaurant. Being tried and true dishes that have been served there for years, or through the Edible Schoolyard, or through her kitchen, so I feel like you can trust their wisdom for sure. And then also just trust yourself to embroider.

One of your biggest differences is your opinions on the contents of a refrigerator. She prefers a nearly empty fridge containing only what she’ll need for a specific meal, with rarely for more per person than what she can imagine eating herself. While you prefer an abundantly stocked fridge and tend to buy enough food for each guest to be able to eat at least seconds. I’m definitely more in that ca
mp myself. Now that different behavior, how is that manifesting now where you’re sharing a home again after not for decades?

Yeah, it’s a strain on our relationship. My mom and I—

The Waters, Singer wars.

Well, it really is because I feel like I inherit my relationship to food and to the aforementioned stocked refrigerator is the way I always joke that it’s like this post-war American Jewish need for abundance. It’s like my grandmother had no fewer than eight massive Tupperware containers containing Arugula, brownies, all her little cookies that she would make and they would go into the freezer, and if ever there were a need to defrost these extremely sweetened treats they would come out of the freezer. There was always an excess of that kind of stuff, and my dad’s refrigerator is predictable chaos.

I would just imagine it’s filled with wine.

Dipsomaniac is what he calls himself, which is a lover of alcohol, I think, and there’s just a landscape in the kitchen that’s all of the various liquors and other after-dinner drinks and booze and it’s the most expansive bar you could ever imagine seeing. It truly makes him look like he has a problem. But there are multiple wine fridges and wine storage areas around too but he’s a great cook and lover of food also, so I get it from both sides of the family.

My mom’s Spartan tendencies I didn’t chime with. I mean I was freaking out at the beginning of this pandemic so I was like we need to have lots of frozen meats and prepared pestos and I’m processing greens, and I was doing that at my apartment in the city before I came over here to my mom’s, and my mom just I think had this notion that we’re going to be fine. We’ll still get the vegetable box from Chez Panisse once a week. And now, yeah, there’s still a push/pull. I mean, I realize that the extreme level of anxiety over provisioning was unnecessary.

So we didn’t need to be stocking up for nuclear warfare but we still have this kind of, my mom’s like, “That’s too many bottles up there. Why did you get another jam?” I ordered some foods from—

Never enough jam.

She’s annexed all of my Japanese ingredients to a bag in her closet because she’s just like, “It’s too much stuff for the kitchen.”

That’s not fair.

So it’s a little bit of a push/pull, but on the whole decently harmonious.

So one of the things that I love to do is, when I don’t know somebody—I live in Manhattan most of the time; I’m not right now, I’m in California with my wife—but usually, I love to walk around Manhattan and look in people’s windows just to imagine what their lives are like. But when I know someone I love to look in their refrigerator to see the way they live. So if I were to pop into your house right now what would be in your fridge? What would I find?

So my mom has this wonderful, very charming way of keeping any leftovers or anything that’s been opened that can be decanted into these café labels, and then she puts a little dish on top, so we don’t have any Tupperware. There’s no more traditional containers or bags or any plastic wrap or foil in this house, generally. So there’s all of these little stacks but it requires … you really have to dedicate yourself to the search. You’re like, “OK, where’s the fucking feta cheese?” You’re like under this plate, under this plate, under this plate. You really have to do a little search to find these things but it is a charming landscape. There’s definitely some beautiful Meyer lemons that are preserved. I was doing a lot of preserving at the beginning of this, just out of interest, curiosity and boredom.

So one of the things we have in there are these little Persian pickled plums. You get the green plums and then you salt pickle them in a brine, and the flavor’s amazing. They taste like nothing when you eat them green, I mean, really sour, and then when you pickle them they start to taste like a floral almond flavor. And those can get eaten alongside cheese and herbs and flatbreads, but they also are great in stews and things like that. So there’s that stuff lurking in the back, and then there’s always at least three bottles of Domaines Tempier Rose that my mom will reliably dispatch with a course of a few days.

And then, yeah, still like a village of jars and jams and things like that, that seem to never be dislodged, and then as much salad as we can fit in there at any given time. And then she always washes it methodically. It’s really a kind of ritualistic thing that I think helps to calm her nerves. So she’ll pick lettuce. My mom really expanded our victory garden situation in Berkeley during the pandemic. So she ripped up what was not at all edible landscape in the front garden and planted a lot of salad and cucumbers and squash out there so that people could also see that she was growing food in the garden.

So we’ve had a nice, at least enough salad for the two of us, which is the one thing both of us need in abundance. So there’s usually a towel that is rolled around a layer of lettuce and then in a bag so that it stays fresh.

That sounds wonderful.

And some other less savory things that I’m going to spare you.

OK. Fanny, for your 18th birthday, a month before you headed off to Yale University, your family gave you a handmade book called Fanny’s Exclusive College Survival Cookbook, and you write about it so wonderfully in your memoir. This book was a collection of more than 55 recipes from virtually every dear family friend in your life. Some of your favorites were Calvin Trillin’s scrambled eggs that stick to the pan every time. Sue Murphy’s recipe for a perfect back scratch, and David King’s wake-up snack. So I was wondering if you could describe for us two of them. If you can, Calvin Trillin’s sticky scramble and why they were so sticky, and the recipe for David King’s wake-up snack, which is the strangest snack for waking up that I’ve ever read about.

I thought I might have it nearby so I could read you Calvin’s wonderful recipe verbatim, but he talks about how he’s like, make sure as you pat around for the little bit of butter in the back of the fridge, discuss riboflavin content of various cereals with daughters. Like while discussing riboflavin content of various cereals, burn toast in the adjacent toaster and then serve with a wan smile, I think, is what the final line is.

Calvin, whose known is Bud to his friends and family and to me, that is someone who’s one of the closest people in my life, and so now it’s actually when I go to New York, I usually stay with him and prepare him deftly not burned scrambled eggs. He’s always happy to have me come make some kind of frittata or something. But that’s really one of the great recipes in there. And then David King’s, I was heading off to my freshman year of college so even though David and his wife Niloufer Ichaporia King had written one of my favorite cookbooks, it’s called My Bombay Kitchen and it’s really one of just … I wrote a chapter about Niloufer because she’s such a huge influence on me.

But David is her husband, and he’s actually a wonderful cook but instead of giving me a recipe—and Niloufer had contributed a beautifu
l recipe to the book—he just gives me this disgusting “snack” of instant coffee mixed with tap water from the dorm bathroom, eaten with a spoon, chased by more tap water, which was he said, “guaranteed to keep you up all night for those college freshmen all-nighters that you’ll need.”

But you’d be in the bathroom.

Oh yeah, definitely.

I can’t even imagine you doing that. Did you ever consume it?

No. I mean I stayed awake plenty of nights all night, as one does when one is 18, to write a terrible philosophy paper or whatever, but I definitely never went the instant coffee paced route. Still, I love that recipe. I love that it’s in there.

Let’s talk a little bit about what you studied at Yale. You graduated with a degree in fine art and the history of art. What were you hoping to do professionally at that point?

Fabulous question for anyone in the humanities who likes to do anything that’s emphatically untethered to any kind of concrete profession, but yeah, I was really into making art when I was a teenager and had this creative streak, so I think I actually really wanted to go to art school and then it was my parents who were interested in me studying art at a more traditional four-year college instead of just going directly into a BFA. Which I was thankful for because I actually had a real interest in academics. It wasn’t for a lack of that I was interested in art.

So it was kind of a way of doing both and it was—yeah, I mean, Yale has an amazing art program and fine art program, especially at the graduate level, so there were lots of really extraordinary professors who taught undergrad as well. And I don’t think I ever thought I was going to be a practicing artist but the skills that I honed there as a printmaker, especially—I did work both one summer at a printing press. A Natalia printing press in Berkeley, and again after college, I worked at Pace Editions, which is one of the really great fine art printing presses in New York.

And I loved doing that actually. I mean, it’s completely manual labor and there’s certain conceptual decisions or decisions that are mostly based on a technique that you can help steer an artist into because, usually, an artist comes to work in a press without any knowledge of the medium, so it’s about figuring out how to realize some kind of design intent or idea, and then collaborating on that to figure out how it comes to life in the form of a two-dimensional printed artwork. And I love that kind of problem solving, and also just loved the manual labor of it.

I never found it redundant or tedious, and may have actually ended up doing that if I hadn’t at the time been dating a much more academically inclined young man named Tom Schmidt, who was a classicist. He was still at Yale when I was in New York that first year after college, and he got this fellowship to go to Cambridge, so I applied just to be able to go to England. I didn’t even think I was going to end up necessarily pursuing a much longer degree. And actually, in a kind of reversal of expectation, I ended up staying for a Ph.D. and he ended up going back to the states.

I continued my studies in art history but in this more focused way, because there wasn’t a fine art program at Cambridge. I couldn’t have even done a more practical art practice there. So I really talk about doing that Ph.D. as walking backwards into it. It was not something I had in my sights and was trying to pursue. Which, maybe like you never would do a Ph.D. if you thought you were going to because it’s such a bizarre existential hell. To put it lightly.

You ended up going to get your Ph.D. in England but stayed for over a decade, and you’ve written quite a bit about how you’ve lived your whole life as Alice Waters’ child, the fact of parentage being a kind of epithet for any introduction to you. This is Alice Waters’ daughter, Fanny. And you go on to state in the book that even when you were being introduced in that way, which you still are but are never particularly resentful of, it just reinforced your sense of needing to figure out who you were going to be as an individual beyond the associations with a famous parent. Did being in the U.K. for that long help you forge your own identity?

Absolutely. I mean, going to England was a real way to sever that connection in a very obvious public way, in a sense. I spoke to my mom all the time, it wasn’t like I was cutting her out of my life. I was never identified that way in the way that I had been before.

Thanks to my mother, Yale planted an incredible farm and started a Yale sustainable food project, and because of that the food improved massively for me and for many others, and it was a gift that she did that. But at the same time, it did prolong the association between me and her in this way that I never quite felt like … it’s making her sound like she’s been a helicopter parent and she never was, but there was still this umbilical tension that I feel like I needed to get beyond the ken of that experience or her ken really.

To get into territory and intellectual waters that were just different, and in a way kind of inaccessible to her. I mean, my mom’s not … she loves art and she’s very aesthetically attuned and sensitive and intelligent, but there’s just not a huge interest in the more academic side of it, and it’s like I was doing something that was not intentionally inaccessible exactly, but just kind of inaccessible, and it meant that it created for me a real sense of autonomy. It was both kind of frustrating on the one hand, but then also a relief.

So being there, I mean obviously, there were restaurateurs in London who I would get to know who loved my mom and admired her, including Sally Clark, who’s had a restaurant for dozens of years, 35 years I think or more, who was one of my mom’s cooks at Chez Panisse for years and who’s one of her closest friends. So there’s definitely a legacy of Chez Panisse even as far as London, but it just wasn’t something that I felt as an oppressive association. Not in terms of “will I ever figure out who I am outside of that identification?”

And I think I actually did kind of manage. I was cooking food and gathering people but it was so much on my own terms. No one was comparing it to how my mom might have done it or what the food was like or anything like that. It was just delicious because I cared about it and I was investing time and effort in it and that was foreign to a lot of my English friends, needless to say. But also I was writing art reviews and I was carving out a career that was more in that world in vain. And I think actually it’s only been since coming back to California that I’ve felt like these things are so much more integrated in who I am than I thought.

Like, I’d really created these two quite compartmentalized selves. There was the Alice Waters and the food world, and that was one thing, and then there was me as an art critic and art writer. It’s like I’m still getting commissions from the Frederick [inaudible] in Germany to write a catalog essay, and I’m at the same time publishing goofy videos of cooking with my mom. And it’s like you can actually contain those things.

Multitudes, yes.

The multitudes, yeah.

You have range. You’ve got good r
ange.

There’s range. Whether it’s good, the jury’s still out, Debbie. We’ll see.

You got your Ph.D. in the history of art at Cambridge and wrote your thesis on the British pop artist Richard Hamilton. You first met Hamilton in 2007. You were 23 and you had been trying to engineer a meeting for months. When you finally did get to meet him I understand that he sternly questioned your use of the word morph? What was that about?

Oh no, it was great actually. Well, I needed to get image rights from him. He controlled every image of his work that existed, so you couldn’t publish something with images if he didn’t approve of the text. And he was a pretty truculent, exacting captious kind of individual and he was in his 80s already at that point. I had written this article in the first year of my Ph.D. that was going to be published in this academic publication called Print Quarterly and, of course, you needed the images, otherwise you’re referring to these things that no one’s ever seen. You can’t search online even really.

So I remember printing out the piece and I took it to him physically at his house outside of Oxford, and I’d never visited with him before, or I’d maybe met him once before but I’d never been to his house and I just remember sitting in his beautiful atulea. He was very close friends with Marcel Duchamp, and there were all of these replicas that were sanctioned by Duchamp that they’d collaborated on of different pieces of the large glass, which is one of Duchamp’s most famous sculptures.

And just being surrounded by all of these extraordinary artworks and sitting and just waiting for him to read this essay in front of me and possibly hate it. And he was sitting there with a pen in hand and I could see him just occasionally circling a word or some little check and he very kindly wrote 10 out of 10 on the bottom as if he was grading a paper. But yeah, he took issue with this one word because I think, you know, I was writing about this period that was well beyond his association with the pop movement.

He started to work with a computer to make a lot of works from the late ’80s onward, and started getting really interested in computer technology as early as the ’70s, and even built his own computers and learned a version of Unix and would write code and kept his entire art catalog, like his archive in code and stuff. It was elaborate. And I think the word morphed was, for him, it meant something very specific for computer technologies and it was like he wanted it to be a different—it was just being so exacting about language and what does the meaning of that word meant in the context of something that actually involved a computer technology that did morph.

He’s like, “That’s not the right word for this.” But I got off relatively easy given what a hard time he would sometimes give to other writers, so I had a really nice relationship with him up until he passed away just a year before I submitted my Ph.D. So I benefited from many visits and interviews and getting to work with him closely.

Over the years you’ve worked as the Bay Area restaurant critic for Gourmet Magazine. You’ve been a contributing editor at The Wall Street Journal writing on arts and culture. You’ve written and/or illustrated pieces in Pop, Lucky Peach, Cherry Bomb, and did an article on art papers several years ago. You stated with the subject of food gaining increasing traction within artistic communities it’s tempting to attribute the recent flurry of convivial projects toward prevailing cultural condition of digital dependency. And I’m wondering what you think now of the food culture that has emerged on social sites, and ways in which we share what we’re eating and how we’re eating and how we’re cooking what we’re eating.

Yeah, I mean I think it’s a very interesting time for that. I wrote in a more recent piece for Frieze Magazine about the spectacularization of food and there have been artists and someone like Laila Gohar who makes these beautiful food installations, and she’s a good friend. She makes beautiful and delicious food; I mean she’s an interesting example of someone who’s almost Dali-esque in the artistic scope of what she does. But she has a very earthy palate and love of artisanal beans and bread, and that I can really get down with.

And then there’s this strange other world on Instagram of people slamming their faces into bread or whatever, and that becomes the Breadface Blog, I think is what that’s called. I mean it’s a strange and very, very dated world now, and people of course in the more quotidian end of things are just daily posting photos of what they’re eating, which I’m also someone who succumbs to that tendency or that impulse. But I do think that there’s something, it can kind of be good and bad. I think there’s inspiration to be had from it that I think encourages you to do something yourself.

So it’s like seeing the way people are gathering virtually is also sometimes I think a kind of call to action, and “oh, that looked beautiful, let’s have a picnic with friends.” I get lots of comments when I post something, like an interesting preparation of grilling peaches on fig leaves the other day, and so many people were like, “I’m going to do that tonight.” And a feeling of there being a real sense of reciprocity and realness to that, that something can really inspire someone to do something else in that vein that is a real connection.

But I do think the way that digital culture has really atomized and compartmentalized us has had this really deleterious effect on how we gather, and we just think we are with people because we’re with them virtually, and I mean right now we have to be, there’s no other option, but I’m always—I mean, it’s been part of why I’ve been so depressed in this time. I’m used to cooking for people three or four times a week, and to not have that feeling of just proximity to people and sharing tasting in real time …

For me, cooking is really about cooking for others. I’m not just someone who likes to experiment madly on my own in pursuit of some flavor or something. I really like to give to others. So yeah, that’s been a very alienating aspect of this, and I think it’s also potentially something that’s just—or rather, it’s been happening in culture more broadly as a trend. I hope that actually, coming out of this, people feel really a drive to gather and cook together and be together in a real physical way.

I loved what Gloria Steinem said when she was at the city arts and lectures this last … 100 years ago now. She was out here in San Francisco and she was talking about why she decided ultimately to be more an activist and a speaker than a writer. She’s like, “I just felt like the important thing was people, human bodies were together. When we’re together and we’re physically gathered we have a real chemical response. Oxytocin increases and our serotonin levels increase and we actually have a real physical response to the proximity of bodies. It’s that simple—the chemistry of togetherness. That brings us happiness.” And I think you add a beautiful meal to that, and you have even an amplification of that sense of fulfillment, which is really just an animal sense of comfort and—

And care.

And care, which is why also there’s a chapter in the book called “Beauty is a Language of Care,” which is really about that, too. Making a meal for someone, making a beautiful environment is also a way of communicating to them that they’re cared for and loved, which is the foundational ethos of the Edible Schoolyard.

In 2016, you and your college friend Mariah Nielson launched Permanent Collection. Can you describe what Permanent Collection is, and what made you decide to start it?

So yeah, so Mariah, actually, I crazily didn’t meet her until I was in England and we were at different universities. So she was getting her master’s at the Royal College and I was getting my Ph.D. at Cambridge, but we met through a mutual friend from California. And we were just magnetically drawn to each other. I think there was a real sense of sorority instantly. I mean, she’s a beautiful creature and she’s always impeccably dressed, and she was wearing this coat that I wanted to bludgeon her and take off her shoulders immediately. It was some vintage piece that was perfect.

And that, actually, in a weird way was sort of the kernel of the collection because it did start with a big emphasis on not just objects and design pieces that we make now but also quite a bit of clothing. But I think both of us, you know, she’d studied design history and [inaudible] history and her father was this very well-known sculptor in California named J.B. Blunk, and she spent her later career really shoring up his legacy and taking care of the estate and helping to secure shows and exhibitions around the world for that work.

And actually she just made a beautiful monograph of J.B. Blunk’s work. And I think kind of both having these parents who were very important influences on us in terms of the aesthetic of our environments—I mean, she grew up in a hand-built house that her father had made in the wilderness, and every single thing in the house was made by hand, from the ceramics to the light poles to everything. So Mariah and I had, I think, there was a shared genetics in terms of what we felt like we’d been educated in from a very young age.

Just nothing was disposable, but at the same time, nothing was precious. It was like beauty was just something that was a kind of atmosphere, really, and it was a totally unpretentious kind of beauty. But just a care around selecting a few beautiful branches of bay when you’re out on a walk and arranging them in a wooden vessel that her father had made, or simple things that my mom would do too. Just grab, rummaging around and picking some flowers and arranging them simply from the garden and never having disposable stuff around.

And also, just using the things that she loved and had collected. So the idea of Permanent Collection was to make things like that. To identify really essential pieces in the kitchen, in the home and maybe in the wardrobe, and even accessories. We work with her father’s estate to make some of his beautiful historical jewelry designs. But things that had historical significance; we worked with the Alexander Calder Estate to make two of his designs into two beautiful silk scarves. But increasingly stuff, especially with the pandemic because everyone’s at home, increasingly things for the kitchen and home. And a lot of those are influenced by my mom’s kitchen. So the things that she uses the most, and I’m sure you’ll ask me about the egg spoon.

That’s my next question.

Yeah.

That was one of your first items. So I was one of the first people that bought the egg spoon in 2016. I actually, I thought you’d love this, I actually took it with me camping.

I love that. I need pictures, Debbie.

I was so excited. Oh, this was back in 2016 when I first got it. I love it so much and I very intentionally, I bought a house and very intentionally had one of the fireplaces cleared out and made beautiful so that I could use the egg spoon in my house.

I love it. It’s like the egg spoon before the fireplace is like the new chicken or egg dilemma.

Yeah. So for the listeners that might not be familiar with this famous egg spoon, if you could talk about the origin of the egg spoon.

Of course, yeah. I will note that it is to date our bestselling product by such an extraordinary margin it’s kind of amazing. It really hit some kind of vein. There was something very resonant.

Yeah, it is the perfect, perfect instrument.

And the people who buy it send us endless emails about how much they love it. Anyway, it’s this forged iron, long-handled sort of shallow cupped spoon that’s intended for frying an egg in a fireplace. And this was a tool that my mom became aware of because she was reading this wonderful book by William Rubel called The Magic of Fire,and my mom is really a deft cook with fireplace cooking. I mean she just has an unbelievable knowledge of fire cooking. I mean uncanny really.

It’s like she’s much more comfortable there than she is in front of the stove. And so this really appealed to her when she saw this illustration because, of course, there’s no photograph of this thing, it’s a 17th century French culinary antique. And it was meant for precisely that purpose. What I imagine when I think about why it would have been developed even in 17th century France is because there were those huge, huge fireplaces in the kitchens that would have been going 24 hours a day.

And so you wouldn’t have to necessarily start a fire in the iron stoves, which would have also been used in the 17th century. For breakfast, you could just put a spoon over the flame in these larger hearths and make a perfect egg. So my mom asked a friend of ours who’s a wonderful Sicilian blacksmith named Angelo Garro—who actually mainly now does Omnivore salt; I don’t know if he’s doing much smithing—but at the time, this is the early to mid ’90s, she asked him to make this egg spoon, and he made this egg spoon that became a beloved piece in our kitchen and a thing that featured in a 60 Minutes episode of my mom.

So many, many years later when we were first starting Permanent Collection and thinking about what kitchen items to add, even though you wouldn’t think it’s the most basic and intuitive thing to—you know, cornerstone of the kitchen—we were like, “Maybe we should do that. It just doesn’t exist anywhere and it’s such a special implement and it really makes a great egg.” And my mom was like, “Yeah, you should definitely make that.” So we actually work with this wonderful female blacksmith named Shawn Lovell who is located in Alameda, not too far from here.

And she kind of tweaked the design a bit actually because it needed to be more of a round cup. Angelo’s is a little bit more oval, which just made holding the egg and the cup a little harder. So this really, I mean, it’s actually cooking the egg and spoon for dummies. It’s quite easy to use and Shawn made these beautiful spoons that she hand forges, and it turned out to be this implement that of course also comes charged with all kinds of conversations around my mom’s cooking. Anthony Bourdain loved to call her precious because she was using this egg
spoon to cook an egg, even though it was in a fire pit, which couldn’t seem less precious to me.

But then this New York Times article came out that sort of established it as this almost Me Too moment gender-division lightning rod, and then the egg spoon is featured prominently, and then we sold 1,000 egg spoons. Shawn was making egg spoons for six solid months, bless her. It was such a crazy episode. But it remains something that we’ll keep in the collection ad infinitum, and it’s a special thing for sure.

Yeah. If anything happened in my house and I had to leave immediately, it would be one of the things that I grabbed. Just so you know, it’s that important to me.

I’m going to quote you and put you on our website, Debbie.

Happily, happily, happily.

I love that.

Fanny, I only have a few last questions for you.

Sure.

When the pandemic first started you left San Francisco and, as we’ve discussed, moved in with your mom in Berkeley. Are bell peppers and broccoli still frowned upon in the Waters/Singer household?

They’re definitely not ingredients that find their way into our fridge very often. I can’t remember the last time I saw either. Although, I mean, I love broccoli and peppers; if you roast a bell pepper, my mom will eat it. She loves roasted peppers, and roasting peppers in general is one of the most beautiful fragrances that you can concoct in your kitchen.

But why the ban on broccoli?

There’s something about these—I think because they’d been so badly prepared through the ’40s and ’50s. My mom’s childhood, those were vegetables that were readily around, and they were just, it was like chunks of bell pepper in the salad, and it was broccoli, just steamed or cooked beyond until it had that sulfurous aroma and mushy texture. My mom loves broccoli rabe and broccolini and the kinds of things that have a little bit more of a flavor edge to them.

I think too what happened is the American versions so bred the flavor out of them. I mean, they’re not particularly interesting vegetables compared to their older and more wild counterparts, which is why broccoli rabe is one of the favorite things in this house. When that’s in season, there’s bags and bags of it. But I do love roasted broccoli and I make it for myself, but it just doesn’t crop up too much in Berkeley at my mom’s house, anyway.

And my last question for you today is this: I understand that every evening you are walking the neighborhood around you, and you’re searching for the 137 paths that reportedly thread through the hills of Berkeley, and you’re determined to find and travel them all. What number are you up to?

I haven’t been keeping an exact tally because one will suddenly come out of nowhere, and you’re like, “Oh.” And I don’t walk with anything, but I think I’ve probably gotten up to the 80s for sure.

Wow.

I’ve just stayed mostly in North Berkeley, so I’m definitely not hitting more of the South Berkeley paths that I’m sure exist. But I’ve really discovered places and corners and little total wildernesses in the middle of this city that I’d never seen before. A pair of chairs in the middle of what looks like this beautiful sword on the side of a hillside that overlooks the entirety of the bay, or there’s all this rock—I want to say it’s a kind of granite—that’s apparently over 100 million years old, and it comes up, and there’s one called Indian Rock nearby, and then there are other rock parks that are smaller.

But then they’re also just between two houses. There will be a chunk of rock that I’d never seen before, and they’ll just be little stairs that you can walk up and sit on the top of it, and perch and look out over the bay, and there’s some unbelievable mystery and magic to this town that I never, never knew. And that’s what’s kind of astounding to me is I lived on this planet 36 years ignorant of these many beautiful paths.

What I have been very assiduously marking down have actually been all of the fruit trees that are easily accessible. And my friend Amelia and I have one designation in particular, which is called fair use fig, which is any fig tree that’s definitely not in someone’s yard or it’s like overhanging their yard enough that it’s a fair use fig, as opposed to just an off-limits fig. And definitely any figs that are in between the sidewalk and the road that are planted in that, those are totally fair use figs.

Absolutely.

We’ve got fair use figs, we’ve got the over-productive Meyer lemon trees, the limes, the loquats, the plums. We thought we were past plum season, and then we were walking the night before last and we hit a plum. And we didn’t even communicate that we were going to stop; me and my friend Alex and Amelia, we were just standing there, just eating plums, talking about depression and ravaging this plum tree. It’s such a magical thing to have that kind of relationship to, well, nature, and still be in the city but also to have this kind of free food while you’re walking. Which has also led of course to the aforementioned various preservation projects.

Well, thank you so, so much for joining me on today’s episode. Thank you so much for writing this really beautiful, beautiful book and also thank you for the recipe of the strawberry gelato. We’re making it tonight.

Oh good.

I’ll let you know how it comes out. Fanny Singer’s latest book is titled Always Home: A Daughter’s Recipes and Stories. You can read more about her at permanentcollection.com, and you can see her absolutely marvelous videos on her Instagram. This is the 16th year we’ve been podcasting Design Matters, and I’d like to thank you for listening. And remember, we can talk about making a difference, we can make a difference, or we can do both. I’m Debbie Millman, and I look forward to talking with you again soon.

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When I first met Chase Jarvis, I was the editor-in-chief of PRINT magazine, and Debbie was the magazine’s editorial and creative director. We were putting together a special issue on San Francisco’s designers, artists, activists, writers and makers, and Jarvis had offered up his CreativeLive studio for the weekend for a comically intense two-day photoshoot involving the likes of Jessica Hische, Liz Ogbu, Scott Dadich, Tim Ferriss, Clement Mok and … 66 amazing others.

It was, in a word, exhausting—and I wasn’t even clicking the shutter on the Hasselblad; that was John Keatley. I interviewed everyone we photographed, including Jarvis, who subsequently was interviewing a medley of our guests in a neighboring studio for his Chase Jarvis LIVE show. Seeing the indefatigable pace at which he worked—all within the CreativeLive HQ warehouse, an empire he had built from the ground up—was to witness Jarvis’ lifelong drive in action, and helped frame the many places his talent has taken him. Jarvis went from amateur snaps in ski bum towns to the forefront of professional extreme sports photography; he created a pioneering iPhone photo app; he’s shot celebrities; he’s interviewed hoards of the foremost minds in creativity; he co-founded CreativeLive, and has long been on a mission to democratize access to the arts via the innovative online platform.

And through it all, one gets the sense that he’s not just blowing smoke—he believes in the power of creativity. He believes in the work he produces, and what his work might help others produce. And over the years and through the woods, he has absorbed and distilled a medley of Jarvis-isms for creatives.

In chorus with this week’s special live episode of Design Matters, here are 26 such nuggets, alongside some biographical reflections that serve as pins in the map of his own journey.

—Zachary Petit, Design Matters Media Editor-in-Chief

“If you don’t write your own script, someone else will write it for you.”

//

“My childhood was a very creative childhood. My parents would give me a block of wood and I'd go play in the backyard for hours. I sat at the adult table because there was no kid’s table.”

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“As far back as I can remember, I’ve been a lover of pictures. I had these junky disc and 8mm cine cameras. My interest in all that probably developed from an early realization, a near obsession with the idea that we could capture time, capture stories and moments with tools and a bit of film.”

//

“My grandfather died two days before my college graduation, which was a terrible, terrible thing. He dropped dead of a heart attack. The silver lining in that was I got his cameras. I was gifted his cameras. It was this permission to go explore the world.”

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“I bailed on a career in professional soccer, I bailed on medical school and dropped out of a Ph.D. in philosophy to become a photographer. That obviously was very radical. … The reality is there aren’t a lot of parents running around telling their kids to be artists or to be creative.”

//

“I also think my educational path points to an all-too-familiar pattern within our culture—one so widespread it’s become an epidemic. Namely, that degrees have become a metric for carrying ‘meaning’ for our parents, earning ‘approval’ of others. Frankly, that whole narrative is total B.S.”

//

“I had an incredibly supportive family and yet I still spent years of my life and tens of thousands of dollars chasing everyone else’s dream for what I was supposed to become rather than chasing my own. It was when I finally quit that path and pursued my own calling to become a photographer and an entrepreneur that I really felt alive. This perspective has been instrumental in my life ever since. It felt like waking up from a sleep state. This ‘aha’ moment suddenly helped me become aware and empowered.”

//

“The people I try and surround myself with, they know that intuition is the mechanism through which to book your own ticket.”

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“I was literally breaking in—as in breaking and entering into the local community college to develop my film for free between the hours of 2 and 5 a.m. I was learning from books. It was very difficult to get meetings with other people who were the best in the craft because they didn’t want to divulge their secrets, and it was a very closed, limited mindset. So through hacking my way and figuring it out, literally taking a picture, writing down my exposure, taking another picture, writing down my exposure, such that when you get your film back, you could actually figure out what the F you were doing.”

//

“I’m a hard-working culture junkie who knows that it’s the greatest time in history to be a photographer or creative. It’s the first time in the history of the world that creatives are also distributors. And that’s very profound if you think that up until recent history, permission was required for us to be able to share work at any sort of scale. We had to get permission from galleries, from ad agencies or photo editors to be able to have our work out there. And now anybody with access to a computer can show their work in 200 countries around the world.”

//

“It’s fair to say that I would not be where I am now without the internet. I think the same can be said for nearly every successful artist these days, whether you’re talking Ai Weiwei or Mackle
more or everything in between. The democratization of creativity enabled by online tools and the ability to reach millions with the touch of a button has surely changed the trajectory of creativity forever.”

//

“I have very few regrets because it’s a policy of mine to chase down anything that might become one.”

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“Stuck in a cubicle? Not living your dream? Whatever you’re doing on the side of your ‘real’ job, whatever you’re doing with your free time—that’s what your soul is angling for in your next gig, job, career, life. So how do you make that dream career come true if you’re already in a full-time gig? It’s all about nights and weekends. If you want it badly enough, you’ll find the time.”

//

“Focus on being world class at something that you’re deeply passionate about because it’s just going to get hard. Once it gets hard, you have to care deeply about it if you want to push through. That’s going to keep a lot of other people out.”

//

“Create, share, repeat. The secret weapon to succeeding (in whatever way ‘success’ means to you) as a photographer is to create personal work. Follow what fascinates and inspires you. Make something real and then share it with the world. This is the most brutally simple recipe for standing out, for making your mark. But there’s a catch: This work has to be all you. It can’t be a project you undertake to please others or an idea that you tried to fit into a recognizable mold. Get weird, get your hands dirty, chase your very own heart. It’s in creating from there that your work has the chance of turning out solid gold.”

//

“Let’s say I finish a job and instead of buying a new couch or a new car with the money, I put that into a personal project. I’m going to be able to create a cool body of work that is going to make me feel alive and bring the most out of me creatively. And that work will be responsible for me getting my next job, maybe getting a cooler job, and having my personal brand equity and my personal value as a creative be higher than the last job that I did. … I would advocate that throwing money at personal projects is in many ways a stepping stone or a ladder to growth and evolution.”

//

“There is no recipe for a great picture. It is this challenge that keeps me interested in doing what I do.”

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“Just do something creative every day. When you sprinkle chocolate sprinkles on your cappuccino, do it in a pattern. … Be mindful of being creative.”

//

“Creativity is the new literacy. Whether you’re taking pictures, building a business, managing a hedge fund, there’s a ton of creativity involved. Art is but a subset of creativity.”

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“Craig Swanson and I founded CreativeLive based on our shared belief that the world deserves—and needs—access to new models of education, as well as a community of peers and collaborators. Moreover, the future of work, life, community, technology, family, everything, will be driven by creativity. The sad reality was that when we looked around, the status quo education and work structures not only traditionally excluded, but even punished, creativity—the very thing that unites us all and drives us forward.”

//

“The best thing for me to do is forget about my need for inspiration and go out and live a little more. Get uncomfortable. Live some other art. Travel. Walk the earth and get into adventures. … For me, getting inspired is ultimately about forgetting about looking for inspiration, because in that mode, you’re always judging. And when you’re judging, you’re not nearly as open to some inspiration that might crack you upside the head. Escape and engage.”

//

“Life is about human connections, not photography. Photography is simply a means to express ourselves, and if we’ve got nothing to express and no one to share it with in a way that touches others, it’s pointless.”

//

“Devour popular culture. Consuming the works of others inspires me. And it’s not just museums and the ‘establishment.’ I devour magazines, books, street art, performances, music, etc. All things that make me think critically (and whimsically) about the world. Inspiration can come from anywhere.”

//

“Moderate expectations. Make it a habit not to judge yourself on your creative output. Sometimes your creativity is on fire. Great news. Other times, it’s not. It’s hard sometimes when you make art in a professional commercial capacity because you’re paid to be ‘on,’ but you’ll save yourself a lot of grief if you make it a habit to be cool to your psyche when your creative mojo isn’t firing on all pistons.”

//

“We’re living in a world that is more photographic than ever before, and we’re never going back.”
 

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Perhaps there are two types of people in life: Those who build LEGO projects using the instructions from the kit … and those who go rogue and build whatever the hell they want.

Scott Belsky is of the latter breed.

It seems to run in his blood. Belsky’s grandfather, Stanley Kaplan, the son of a Jewish immigrant plumber, got turned away from medical school because of a cap on his ethnicity. So he began tutoring—and eventually turned the seeds of his small operation into the massive Kaplan test prep education company, which would dominate its field and help untold scores better themselves and their futures.

Belsky grew up around Boston, and thrived on self-reliance. He embraced making and his own sense of creativity, and in retrospect, has written on social media that “traditional schooling first failed us when we were taught to ‘stay within the lines’ and ‘finish work before you play.’” Thus the LEGO projects that emerged not from kits, but his mind.

Given what was to come, it’s prescient that he toyed with Adobe Illustrator and Photoshop as a teen. He designed his own T-shirts and other creations in high school. When he got to college at Cornell, where he studied economics, entrepreneurship, and design and environmental analysis, he turned in a rather unique thesis: a redesigned résumé tailored to creatives who were not best served by the bland basics of Microsoft Word.

A theme was beginning to arise. Yet as he walked the line between his creative urges and the business acumen he had accumulated, he soon found himself falling to the side of corporate America, as an associate at Goldman Sachs. And as he went about his work, he realized how much design and design thinking could benefit numerous aspects of the business world and boost productivity.

And then, the flipside, the symbiosis of his duality: He had a catharsis about the state of the creative world, perhaps as a result of operating beyond it: It desperately needed a dose of expertise and wisdom from the strategic business realm. There was mismanagement. Intense and widespread disorganization. And as he told Forbes, at the most basic level, “There is no transparency in the creative industry. No one knows who [does] what. So you can’t get opportunity based on what you create if no one knows you did it. The one thing creative careers need more than anything else is more attribution and opportunity.”

So, Belsky, not one to wait around for the instructions, decided he’d do something about it. In 2006, he left Goldman Sachs to start the portfolio hosting site Behance (derived from enhance) with Matias Corea. It was an audacious move, one that, coupled with the fact that he was simultaneously enrolling at Harvard Business School to work toward his MBA, likely left many in his life perplexed. But Belsky couldn’t stop thinking about the universe of possibility in the site. With Behance, more creative people could get exposure, and jobs. Moreover, they could be fairly compensated when getting new gigs if their body of work was readily identifiable and available.

Creatives responded. A testament to a genuine gap in the market, the site blossomed. And Belsky and co. rode no high horses nor did they maintain the more obnoxious airs found in tech today. They focused on engagement; if a new feature didn’t net solid interaction and feedback, they sacrificed their darlings and killed it off. Meanwhile, they launched the 99U blog and conference, and continued their creative evangelism as Behance became the gold standard portfolio site for creatives.

Of course the journey was not without suffering; while the outside world may have seen Belsky and Behance as an impenetrable force with a brilliant and bold output, he would reveal later in his book The Messy Middle that he had to take anti-nausea medication to even eat; there was intense anxiety, there was suffering and there was a very real chance of failure—and in that knowledge today, there is power for the rest of the creative world.

In 2012, as an affirmation of how far Belsky and his team had come, something amazing happened to the site—a site that had begun humbly enough to deal with the disorganization of the creative world—Adobe, perhaps the king of the creative world, bought Behance for a reported sum of $150 million. Belsky joined as VP of product, and stayed for four years before leaving to head to a venture capital firm full time. Of the many risks Belsky has taken throughout his life and career, many have paid off—but as he has admitted, his move to VC did not. And soon enough, he was back at Adobe as chief product officer and executive vice president of the Creative Cloud.

Perhaps the following thoughts, drawn from an interview discussing philanthropy with Fast Company, shine a light on his decision-making philosophy these days: “People do a lot of due diligence when they make investments with their money, and I think that people need to do the same thing with time. In fact, time is the truly limited commodity. I mean, money you can make more and more in your life, so there’s not necessarily a limit to that. But there is a limit to time, and so I think we should all be very serious with doing due diligence with the time we allocate to something.”

When reading about Scott Belsky, one tends to wonder: Given that he is neither a fine artist nor a graphic designer per se, why does he feel so intimately tied to the creative world? Why does he want to help creatives achieve their dreams? This episode of Design Matters explores that.

Regardless of his motivations, one gift that he brings is this: perspective. It’s crucial in any field. But it’s perhaps exceedingly crucial in the creative world, which many isolationists so often seek to protect by barring its doors, leaving those outside squinting as they try to gaze into its murky, mysterious confines, hesitant to dip a toe into something that seems so foreign, uncertain, unstable.

But like the contemporary merging of silos within the design realms, perhaps that paradigm is something that, soon, will also be a principle of the past—and we’ll all see with greater clarity brought about by fresh, collaborative minds that both corroborate and clash.

There are those who operate with manuals. And there are those who discard them for the world of intense possibility that lies beyond.

—Zachary Petit, Design Matters Media Editor-in-Chief
 

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