The Big Secret I learned from speaking to incredible, ambitious, and visionary female business owners on how to grow a successful business is this…there is no one strategy, one fail-proof plan, or one path to follow that will lead to success.
"How did you ever get into a business like that?" people ask me. They're confounded to hear that my product is industrial baler wire—a very unfeminine pursuit, especially in 1975 when I founded my company in the midst of a machismo man's world. It's a long story, but I'll try to shorten it. I'd never been interested to enter the "man's" world of business, but I discovered a lucrative opportunity to become my own boss—even if it involved a non-glamorous product. I'd been fired from my previous job working to become a ladies' clothing buyer and was told, "You just aren't management or corporate material." My primary goal then became to find a career in which nobody had the power to fire me and to provide a comfortable living for my two little girls and myself.
"I think you need to stop being so difficult and just let this go," the senior leader said exasperated, handing my sheets back to me. He was annoyed. I took my sheets back and walked out. It was a battle I wasn't about to win.Those sheets outlined my compelling case for delaying the launch my team had been leading. The proposition wasn't differentiated. The media plan was underfunded. The estimates from sales teams were coming in lower than expected. My persistence, my persuasive business case, and my passion, all pointed in only one direction: that I was being difficult.In the end, the launch was never delayed. It went on as scheduled and underperformed terribly. The items were delisted within six months. And we never talked about that launch again. It was as if it had never happened.And all along I wondered: how could I have been less difficult?
We're living through an unprecedented time. It's scary, but I've been here. I started my career working for design firms in 1993, then added a side venture in the mid-90s, a custom kid's bed linen business that I ran for 10 years. In the late 90s, I added a second moonlighting layer (because who needs a social life in their 20s): smaller, then bigger interior design projects in whatever waking hours I had. In 2004, I got an opportunity from one of those side clients to launch my own interior design firm. It took a nagging gut instinct to make the leap, but I'm grateful that I said yes.
A decade ago when I graduated and was about to foray into the professional world, I was very clear on the end goal: social impact. Having grown up around the globe and been exposed to the circumstances of the developing world, I was always very aware of "the bottom billion."
When I first heard #OKBoomer, I cringed and thought — here we go again. Yet another round of generation bashing, this time Millennials against Baby Boomers. This new social media conflict will not help workplace dynamics. Throughout my career, I've heard countless rants about long-established workplace norms that younger generations perceive as overly repressive rules that subvert identity, familial obligations, civility, and respect for the environment.
When we think about being "conscious" anything, it's easy to fall into the subject of new age spirituality or just focus on leading a conscious lifestyle through regular yoga sessions, composting, and keeping chickens in the backyard. All of these things are great (when aligned with our personal values), and these actions can enhance our day-to-day lives and inspire others to do the same. But when it comes to the world of business, can the word "conscious" not only play a role, but also help professionals and entrepreneurs alike thrive?
In recent weeks we have been seeing a string of articles praising the exemplary ways that women political leaders of various nations throughout the world have been handling the COVID-19 crisis. Some of these articles suggest, overtly or tacitly, that women are simply better leaders, period.
Our world has changed so much these past few months. But Fresh n' Lean, the pre-prepped organic meal delivery company I founded in 2010, has remained open during the coronavirus pandemic after being deemed an essential business. Operating amid the spread of COVID-19 has been a humbling, challenging and profound experience. We've ramped up our safety measures in order to protect employees.
A few months after I left my corporate job as the Head of Merchandising for Old Navy Online, I walked into the Everlane concept store in preparation for an upcoming meeting at their corporate office. As I looked around trying to find an outfit, a feeling of alienation came over me. From the perky twenty-something sales associate that looked at me askance when I walked in, to the array of androgynous, box-llooking, nondescript apparel, it was clear that I didn't belong. I finally landed on a streamlined navy dress that was seemingly appropriate for my meeting — a nothing special, medium quality, basic dress that felt like a millennial uniform. I never wore that dress again.
The first pic you see of me here is from November 2018, roughly 3 weeks after having brain surgery. It all started one morning in January of 2018. I flew from LA to San Jose en route to Santa Cruz for several meetings I had set for the day. I was driving on Highway 17 heading to Santa Cruz from the San Jose Airport. I was on the freeway for all of 20 minutes, and out of nowhere a car comes out from a residential area to the right of me, attempting to make a left turn onto the freeway where there was a concrete median divider — making it impossible to turn left. The car stops literally in the middle of the highway — in my lane! I was going over 60 mph. Beginning to slam on breaks, I attempted to jump in the right lane but there were cars coming, so I couldn't make it. At that moment I clenched hard because I knew I was gonna have to hit this car!
Early spring 2018, I walked into the building of a startup accelerator program I had been accepted into. Armed with only confidence and a genius idea, I was eager to start level one. I had no idea of what to expect, but I knew I needed help. Somehow with life's journey of twists and turns, this former successful event planner was now about to blindly walk into the tech industry and tackle on a problem that too many women entrepreneurs had faced.
They say when one door closes another one opens, and for me the reality of that is more than just a catchy phrase. When I moved to London I had nothing with me but my ambition for an exciting career and the desire to live out the dream of 19-year-old me, who hoped one day to become an international, successful businesswoman.
I feel I'm at my most productive when I am free to travel, learn, and create without the constraints of geography, an office, or a time card. So, when I founded Final Straw just over two years ago, I sought to develop a company culture that inspired people to approach everyday problems with ingenuity, and was determined to create a team that was 100% remote. Initially, there were people who pointed out all of the reasons that a company operating remotely couldn't be successful; however, I knew that I could make the model work.
Amanda Curtis shifted the focus of her on-demand manufacturing platform, N.A.bld, from fashion to face masks when federal health officials advised healthcare workers to bring scarves and bandanas to work when caring for COVID-19 patients.
It all started when I began documenting my daughter's 436-day hospital stay on Instagram. She was a perfectly healthy 3-year-old and out of nowhere had a ruptured appendix made worse by a failed immune system. Sepsis began to consume her body and talking about it on social media was my way to cope with the fear of the unknown...
It seemed like everything happened overnight because, well… it did. One moment, my team and I were business as usual, running a multi-million-dollar edible cookie dough company I built from scratch in my at-home kitchen five years ago and the next we were sitting in an emergency management team meeting asking ourselves, "What do we do now?" Things had escalated in New York, and we were all called to do our part in "flattening the curve" and "slowing the spread."
It's absurdly difficult to launch a product for women, by women. When I moved to NYC, I was bright and full of dreams, my hopes pinned on a colorful career and exciting new friends. Within one year, exciting new friends in tow, I was fully engaged in learning the ropes and climbing the ladder at a global investment banking firm. It was an exciting time of learning new things and my capacity for growth was enormous.
Organic growth has made all the difference for my company. Since its start in 2010, Fresh n' Lean has delivered more than 7.2 million organic meals that are free of pesticides, hormones, GMOs, and other additives. The business itself has grown organically, too, without the help of any outside capital.
My entrepreneurial journey started when I was kid. Growing up, my mom and dad were both entrepreneurs. I remember that with everything I did, even then, I always thought I could turn it into a business. My mom put me in gymnastics, and when my friends would come over I thought I should charge each friend $10 and give them gymnastics lessons. Not realizing certifications, insurance, etc., I just wanted to figure out a way to make money. I was eight.
When you first hear that I have a life-size cut-out of myself, I know what you are thinking. Is this woman nuts? Who does that? Is she full of herself? Yes, these are normal questions, but once you understand why I have it and what I use it for, you may find yourself ordering one too!