Collyn Ahart

Stuff doesn't make me happy. But making stuff makes me very happy. I've never felt more fulfilled, purposeful or excited about life than I do right now - and I think that's because I am a part of making stuff. Physical stuff that is full of artistry, emotion, craft and decades of skill. The people who sew our garments are amazing. They are magicians. They transform fabric and ideas into things that people will cherish. Some people might not like our things. But that's ok. I don't like pasta, I don't like jazz, I don't like many things. But we made something and it feels wonderful to know we have done something that will keep people warm and give them a nudge into the rain, be a small and insignificant part of their best memories. Can you tell? Our first products have arrived (some of it at any rate!)

I'm scared. I look back on the last couple years and this week was always so far away.

A long time ago I read somewhere a study that found women who wear jumpers while testing score higher than women wearing tighter fitting and more revealing tops. At least that is how I remember it. (If anyone knows this study pls send me a link!) and as I remember it, the researchers' hypothesis was that women spend less mental energy feeling self-conscious when they are wearing the jumpers. I'm a big fan of big wooly jumpers (much to my boyfriend's dismay), and I swear I think better when I'm wearing them. I can't think properly when I wear less or little outfits. You will often find me wearing some form of jumper even in the heat of summer. At least when I'm at work. It doesn't bother me to dress otherwise on holiday or when I'm going out. Perhaps it's just habit now, but it works for me. A lot has been written about people like Jobs, Obama and Zuckerberg wearing the same thing every day - partly because it removes a decision from their day (which is inevitably full of decisions they have to make). I like to think of jumpers a bit like that: it focuses me. I don't have to think about my body or what people think of it. I feel like people judge me on my ideas and values - not what I look like or what I'm wearing. My body stops being a part of my brain. I might just be singing the nerd girl anthem here. I sometimes get jealous of women who succeed at work and manage to wear sexy outfits all the time - but then I wonder how much more they could have done. Anyways, just musing. Grey t-shirts come in all shapes and types. Thank goodness.

There are a few days you remember: the day you register your company, the day you open a bank account, the first time you see a finished sample, the day you close with investors, and when the money finally appears in your bank account. You also remember the day when you find our your friend and supplier died, and with him went an order of all your trims; you remember the day your fabric order gets stuck in customs and the day you spent counting out 300 zippers on the floor of the local trims shop. You remember the day you first run out of money, the second time you run out of money, and the third time you run out of money. You remember acutely the feeling of someone trusting you, and the sinking feeling of dread that you might not make it. You remember the feeling of letting down your friends and your family when you can't make it to the party. You remember the feeling of being totally alone when your partner disappears because she can't hack it anymore. You remember the pit in your stomach that opens up whenever you open bill-shaped post. You forget what it feels like to exercise. You forget the days when you had a paycheque and a positive bank balance and a proper holiday that wasn't just a disguised work trip. You forget what it feels like to be complimented on your looks. You forget to buy cat food. You forget grocery shopping and what it feels like to wander around a supermarket pulling lovely things off the shelves. Trying to remind myself this is just another kind of adventure. All the little blows stop feeling significant and more like just preparation for the big blows. You remember the days you cry yourself to sleep, and then they start to feel like nothing. 

It's great having a brand idea and original product for an untapped market, but unless it comes to market all of that means fuck-all. Social media presence does not a business (necessarily) make. I don't have an MBA. And I was failing out of math by the time I was 16, mostly because I hated the intangibility of algebra. So coming to grips with financials and business planning has been incredibly challenging. But I've kind of relished it. I have both a good accountant and a couple financial advisors who have helped immensely but when it comes down to it, it's still me paying the bills and either spending or not spending money on something. The first good advice I had was very sound: it will cost twice as much and take twice as long. So whatever you initially think it will take, double that. In some cases triple it. I have been incredibly frustrated with a few things, like when merino material from Australia gets stuck at Italian customs and is hit with an unexpected £700 surcharge for taxes and handling fees. No one can prepare you for Italian customs admin fees. They are no fucking joke. I didn't plan for them and have personally had to eat that cost a bit. It was painful, to say the least. And what's more these fees seem utterly random. One might cost a small fortune while the next is already paid. But this is rarely clear - even if you've already paid the duty and shipping. The next piece of advice is important too: know you're going to make big mistakes. I'll just leave that there. My mistakes are immeasurable. My boyfriend likes to remind me of my own words: adventure isn't a trip you take it's everything you do. It's annoying of him, but very true. Planning for the chaos has been hard. Making stuff is the hardest thing I've ever done. One thing doesn't go wrong; everything does. The absurdity of still not having the right labels for something that's getting made right now is killing me. HOW THE HELL DOES THAT HAPPEN?! But then, the next piece of advice came from one of our suppliers: the difference between American (ala Nike) and European (ala Adidas) brands is that American brands are willing to do it wrong for the sake of doing it first. European brands do what it takes to get it perfect at the cost of it taking a long time. The world needs more brands with a mix of the two. Sometimes you have to go ahead and know you're not doing something perfectly. At others you must know when perfection is required. I recently killed two designs from our collection - at the 11th hour, mind you - because they weren't good enough. The cost has been substantial, but not as much as it would have been in the long term. In one case the fabric just wasn't working with the original pattern. But the fabric is perfect for something next year (here's hoping we get to next year) so not all is lost. So rolling with the punches, revising budgets, steering our little speedboat... Still way better than trying to steer the titanic. I swear sometimes this shit would make for amazing reality TV. Then I remember how little time I've got anyways and get back to it.

"When are you going to pivot?" Words of one of the first VCs I met ring in my head every single day. I've started anticipating change on a daily basis. Little shifts in the business plan are on-going. The fabric is stuck at customs (yes that fabric I paid extra to have air freighted from Aus) and it won't be released for over a week. So we lost our booking in the factory. So we make a little change to our launch plan. We have the softshell merino but not the terry elastane wool, nor the rib. Ok. Little change. We can't do that kind of referral system but we can do one that's simpler and maybe better. We can't afford big photoshoots but we can do a lot of little ones. Little shifts and changes are teaching me both the ability and willingness to adapt. I don't think leading a startup is just about having a plan and seeing it through. I think it's about thinking on your feet and constantly adapting. Little pivots, not just big ones. They will trip you up unless you learn to dance, anticipating the moves. The thing is, I think big businesses have to do this too, but they forget how. They fight it. Margins win over. And process wins over. Hierarchy and Venn diagrams and task units and management skills take over. Being small enough to dance is a gift.

So much about leading this startup is wonderful. I have learned so much. I feel immensely satisfied but at the same time brew a constantly percolating adrenaline about the next bend in the road. One thing I'm less happy about is my deteriorating physical fitness. At one point in my life I called myself an athlete. But all of this has gone on hold. I've yet to figure out a method for making it all fit - and something has to give. For now, that's my body. I don't feel tremendously unhealthy, but I don't like what I see in the mirror either. At 32, I get the sense my metabolism is slower than it used to be, and I'm stress-eating like crazy. The result is tighter jeans, discomfort pretty much every day. But then, im a startup founder; I'm not supposed to care about this stuff, right? I've got a higher calling. Well, I'm calling bullshit now. I encourage the rest of the Bowndling team to take time to exercise and look after themselves. But it's been over two weeks since I've managed a workout. I don't know why I haven't been able to do it. I have almost zero motivation to get fit right now. The thigh gap can wait - I have a business to launch. But, but this is really depressing. I honestly have gotten so demoralised about it I'm now getting put off working out because I feel unfit. Vicious cycle, etc. I sure I'm not alone, but it's made me wonder if this is something other founders experience in the same way. I think being female there is added pressure to look a certain way, and I would say the social freedom from that for guys is a competitive advantage. I'd like to run my company and not be afraid of being fat for a couple years. But I'm afraid what people will think of me. You have to be pretty special to make it as a fat person in fashion. I'm not sure I'm special enough to make it as a fat person. Running a company is supposed to be empowering and wonderful, but it's also really fucking demoralising at times. It's 4am. I can't sleep. I feel fat. I wish I could be one of those people who lose weight when they are stressed instead of reaching for the cake. I'm supposed to not care about this stuff, but it creeps in. What's more, I'm probably not supposed to talk about it, I've got a company to lead.

Most people glorify startups. The reality is messier, there is often utter chaos. I really want to remember the 4am nights doing DIY assembling industrial shelving units. I want to remember the look on Hanneke's face when we took delivery of a mannequin we could finally afford. When we didn't order the right buttons. When we didn't have buttons. One day I want to look back and remember this stuff.

I can't afford to hire the best. I've met a lot of bests in the last few months but while they all seem keen to work in a startup most of them don't realise I pay my entire team what they take home alone. So I've been hiring on a few other things: 1) ambition. I want people to want to make Bowndling a massive success. It's not just a job, it's a mission. 2) personality: I want nice, friendly, and easy going. If you're a dick you can work somewhere else, even if you're "the best" 3) talent: I spend way more time looking at portfolios and in interviews than reading cvs. I'm looking for diamonds in the rough not already cut by years of experience. They often need a chance, and an opportunity to step up. Taking the step up is what separates the good and the great. 4) humility: like being nice, but absolutely crucial with highly talented people. Humble people know how to listen. 5) confidence: the ability to speak up and fight for something they believe in. 6) scrappy: people who know how to learn on the fly, to try new things, to experiment and make do. There is no such thing as "not my job"... 7) communication: people who can communicate the bad as well as the good. The best is great if you can afford it. Our team might become the best one day, I only hope we are a part of getting them there.

I've been thinking a lot about business models lately. All businesses (and the people behind them) make mistakes. And we guard against them. Perhaps guard against failure, but only within reason. I've made so many mistakes in the last 9 months, but every single time the mistake has honed both the business and my abilities. Woolly ideas get picked off by mistakes. And when you design mistakes into your business model and make sure they are small and fast (fail fast fail often etc) the result is much more powerful. Design a business model around getting it wrong and you end up getting it right much quicker. Small production lots, fast turn around times, lots of different people until you find the ones that stick. Give yourself permission to be wrong and keep the legs moving.

My mother taught me about elbow grease when I was about 6 years old. Maybe earlier but I distinctly recall being told I needed to find some elbow grease and thinking it was a thing you could buy. I think most parents like to play this joke on their kids. And they should. This whole startup thing is run on elbow grease. I just got home at 3:45am after a good 20 hours of work - and it strikes me the sheer physical labour involved in a startup is often overlooked, probably because so many startups involve little more than a computer. But I haul bolts of fabric, ride across town for lawyers meetings only to forget an important document and have to do the whole thing again. My back is aching constantly. I'm on the floor vacuuming up dust to keep it off garments. I'm carrying lunch back for the team. I'm usually about one poor nights sleep away from illness but manage to stay upright. A big part of a startup is the physical labour part. The elbow grease. Elbow grease is guaranteed to keep you humble and is also what oils the machine, and keep everyone else running. It's late. I can't do metaphors right now.

Also, fuck the nay-sayers. The people who make fun of you. Who try to cut you down. Most of them have never had a real purpose in their life. They wouldn't know passion if it bit them on the nose. Yeah, I'm the CEO. Yeah, I'm new to this. Yeah, I'm making mistakes. Yeah, I'm still fucking here. 

I know how expensive it will be to change a logo across all the brand's platforms, tags, bags, etc, and I wouldn't wish that on any start-up, but it's their mistake, intentional or not. 

Hi, after way too many disgusting trolls sending messages telling me how they wanted to "educate me" etc I decided to pull it down. It was too stressful and not worth my time. I hope you understand. If you would like the original copy I am happy to email it to people I know and trust. Can you let me know what you want it for? 

That homeless woman couldn’t articulate the problem she had with my not giving her money. She could only articulate the problem she perceived with my character. Dressed up, on a New Years Eve night on the town, I must have looked like a posh tit (the magazines tell me to look this way and wear these things). Therefore, I must be a terrible person. But you see, she only feels the power to do this because I don’t know who she is. She is anonymous to me. I can’t really report her to anyone. I can’t make her feel guilty for her behaviour when she sobers up. She hides behind her social invisibility. It was perhaps an invisibility thrust upon her against her will, but she’s trying to take back any scrap of power she can and use it against the world. And I forgive her. She’s been put in a weak position by society and for a fragment of a moment, my relative weakness gave her an odd sense of control. 

www.bowndling.com

My talk on brand strategy from the Do Lectures 2013.