Everyone! Hi. Hello.
First: if you haven’t read part one of this essay, it’s here, and this piece will make infinitely more sense if you go read that one first.
Second: if you’re a new subscriber here, welcome! (And if you’re an old subscriber here, thanks for sticking around!) I appreciate you all. And thank you, especially, to my small but mighty squad of paying folks; your support means the world.
Okay, on to the thing.
When I started my stationery company in 2012, I fully agreed with the statement, “if something works, expand it.” Why not? If customer demand is there, wouldn’t it be the goal of any business to serve more people, make a bigger impact, make more money?
I sold my work online, and wholesale to retailers, but my vision back then was to also have lifestyle stores, like Jonathan Adler. Part of this was because I was (am?) a creative person who had a billion ideas for products and wanted to bring them all to life. Part of it was because I had no fucking clue what running a store was actually like.1 And part of it was believing the capitalist narrative that growth is proof of—and required for—success.
By 2016, I had fourteen full-time employees, which might not sound like that many—it definitely didn’t to 2012 Me, who wanted lifestyle stores—but as it turned out, 2012 Me was also kind of an idiot. I am very good at mentoring, teaching, creative directing, and being friends with people, and as a result, I assumed I’d be great at being a boss, and that I’d love it. But I was not, and I did not.