Essay —
In January, I wrote a letter that outlined the state of and ambition for my office’s client work, ventures, and publishing, as well as some financial metrics and other personal updates.
Halfway through the year, an update is overdue.
I’ve finally given a name — quietly — to my design and strategy practice. It’s called Family Office.
Family Office designs brand identities, user interfaces, and articulates company changing strategy. The firm focuses on complex undertakings that can deliver outsized outcomes: launching new subsidiaries/products, making strategic pivots into new lines of business, or reviving ailing brands.
Naming this “design practice” represents a big and permanent shift in the way I think about my work: I am no longer a lone wolf. The work of this small design firm owes itself to many collaborators: the self-taught immense talent Eliz Akgün, freelance collaborators Bryce Carson, Emily Nabnian, Brady Rish, Jan Janeczek, Kekeli Sumah, and our recently contracted (paid!) design intern Liv Beruti.
Since formalizing my design practice this year, average monthly revenue1 is $55,141.17 , with the latter three-month period notching a $49,467 total increase in revenue versus the previous three-month period in January, February, and March. A modest war chest of $55,000 in profit can be accounted for just this year — a far cry from my overall loss of $3,125.41 in 2023.
I have made my fair share of mistakes along the way:
The list could go on. I learn and reflect.
Most importantly, the quality of the work is getting stronger. We have had multiple clients in the past few months describe our work — in particular our brand strategy presentations — as one-of-a-kind (positive.) My aim is always to outdo the previous project, both visually and intellectually.
In a service business like a design studio, you’re selling time. That’s somewhat unsustainable, especially if the operation hinges primarily on one or two people’s time. Speaking with a wiser, smarter entrepreneur and agency operator than I reminded me that the money should be treated as investment capital, not just money to spend on designer furniture — though I’ll spend on the latter, too.
For me, investing is about spending money on fulfilling creative projects that can lead to something unexpected — financial, personal, or professional. Terms-Eccles, our finance-meets-creative-scene event series introduced itself to the world on Tax Day, was a perfect example.
My founding partner in this, Corissa Steiner, is an emerging markets venture debt financier who pays as much attention to creative culture as she does to FOMC meetings, and I am perhaps the only person on the planet who reads 032c and System as well as the niche cult-followed financial periodical, Grant’s Interest Rate Observer.
The prompt for our Tax Day event was simple: What conversation will happen between people who think about interest rate movements and people who care too much about Perfectly Imperfect?
Corissa, Nikole, Ellie and I organized the concept, speakers, and team. Eliz designed the invite. Miles-McCann produced the event. Susanna Woodley and Ara Barzingi at Spring Place hosted a packed crowd of over 125 in the beautiful sunken living room, and the event was a hit.
We were joined by a lineup of incredible guests:
I’ll save a full rundown for another article. Needless to say, the event was extraordinarily well-received, the pictures turned out beautiful, and we had great fun.2
Coming this summer on a ground floor retail space in downtown Manhattan: a block party and live taping of a marathon radio show, featuring the best conversationalists downtown has to offer. We’ll be broadcasting live, hosting a party at the space (to be confirmed), and will have a full programming schedule featuring podcasters, comics, writers, and more.
It will be an all-day marathon with a variety of segments (think: television’s longest running show, Sábado Gigante), a breadth of topics and material spanning culture and business (think: Emily Sundberg’s Feed Me, or our very own Terms-Eccles), and it will feature unexpected personalities together in conversation, talking shop (think: Paul Provenza’s The Green Room).
This is not an interview podcast. Droning monotony will have little airtime. There will be plenty of cross-talk and a clash of many voices you might not expect to be in a room together.
We (the same team who put on Terms-Eccles) are currently planning the programming schedule. Please reach out via email or DM if you’d like to be a part of the show.
A certain man once said people “become myths [not by] what they achieve, but by the tasks they set themselves.”
I face a handful of next steps in life. I could set a revenue goal for my design practice and chase it like hell. I could learn a new language. I could try to get my running pace below 7 minutes. (Add me on Strava.) I’m working on all of the above.
But the larger, more daunting task is to do more things that I feel deeply magnetized to.
The radio concept now occupies a lot of my brain space because it marries well with what brings me joy: conversing, learning, and making things. And, the show can take on a life of its own. At least that’s the hope.
Returning 3 to the story of the businessman and the fisherman, if I already had a ton of money and could forge a simple life around what brings me joy (in the case of the apocryphal story, the two men just want to sit on the beach and fish), I’d love to do radio and talk shit (not positively, not negatively, just talk shit) all day.
I’ve never much spoken or written about that desire because it sounds so silly. I have playlists of the voices I admire, an encyclopedic knowledge of comedy specials and bits, I listen to speeches as often as I listen to albums. I envy no artist more than a gifted orator, and feel there is no greater respect to earn than that of being worth listening to. So, hosting the exact conversations I wish I could listen to all day feels like a very clear next project.
I continue to encounter strange forks on the backroads towards (through?) love. I find that I am still a little too young for some women I’d otherwise have a serious crush on.4
My personal life feels quiet — sometimes eerie, mostly peaceful — at times. I’ve centered my life on a handful of friendships and am more discerning with how much I go out on a given week. Anvita left New York and that’s more than a bit sad. I talk most often with Bradley , Eliz , Bryce , and Macy (somewhat surprisingly, since we bicker often and I can’t tell if she begrudgingly enjoys my presence or dislikes me). The banter is worth it. Nikita and I have remained friends, though she’ll be leaving New York soon for a while. There are a few people I’ve met this year who I already believe are incredible people who I’d like to make more of an effort to be friends with.
I’ve been running more, and on those days, my brain feels stronger. Though it’s slightly embarrassing to admit to having been at a run club of any sort, the entire reason for my new running habit can be credited to Luke Haverty who organized some Friday morning runs a few weeks back. I had not run in years. Two weeks ago, I ran 10 miles at an 8-minute pace. (DMs are open for running friends, specifically if you run up and down the Hudson River Greenway, i.e. West-side along Battery Park City, Tribeca, West Village, and Chelsea.)
1 I still feel unsure of whether or not my revenue will remain steady. After all, projects comes in because other clients, investors, or advisors recommend us. So far, this continues to happen and lead to new business, yet it feels unpredictable. The faith I have in the work to generate new work is growing, and is something I will always look to the heavens and say thank you for.
2 In the meantime before we publish an article about the event, you can see photos of the event by Nikole here.
3 I mentioned in my last letter that “I would focus on becoming well-known and constantly in dialogue with beautiful and powerful people.” In that note, I was more focused on my writing practice, hoping to write interviews like Brenda’s Business. While I think that’s a noble task and it makes for great content, it’s not what I really wanted to do. I want to talk. Out loud.
4 Good Hang, a criminally underrated Substack, wrote one of my favorite articles of the year recently on this topic: Is it Chic to date a 23 year old guy? Among their many answers to the question: “Andy Warhol, known sex haver, has a famous quote ‘art is getting away with it’. The same applies to ‘being chic.’ This is to say that of course [being older than “the dude you’re smashing”] is chic and of course, it is a horrible idea.”