Getting Cut Sucks

I’m not a professional athlete. Not even fucking close. Let’s just get that out there. Nobody has ever relied on me to make a team except my very own ego. I don’t know the tremendous weight of expectations on the shoulders of an athlete trying to make the league. The seemingly endless effort put into the pursuit of a dream that suddenly hits a brick fucking wall. 

There are few moments as painful as not making the team.

The first time I ever got cut from a team, I was trying out for a Grade 6 basketball team. I went to the try out. Stunk it up and didn’t play basketball for the next 20 years. Looking back, I suppose that I didn’t deserve to make the team. I just showed up, laced up my sneakers and went for it. No practice. No prep. No scrimmages. Nothing. 

I cried. I said basketball was stupid and walked away from a sport before I even had a chance to start. It actively discouraged me from trying a fun team sport for two decades.  

The second cut went deeper. 

I tried out for other teams and made them - rugby, soccer, hockey, ultimate frisbee. But the next time I was cut, I was 17 years old. I was trying out for a team to represent my province at a national frisbee tournament - the British Colombia All Star team. I got relegated to the B team. That one hurt more because I knew that I was on the bubble and I saw myself beating people who made the team in tryouts and drills. 

But the coaches had decisions to make and that was one of them. And it put a giant fucking chip on my shoulder - that whole summer was dedicated to this internal battle to prove them wrong. To show them that they had made the wrong choice. I remember an inter-squad scrimmage in preparation for Nationals where we - the ragtag group of B teamers -  took it to the A team. They were not happy. The coaches were pissed. I was bubbling with piping hot righteousness and joy. Fuck that felt good. 

New city. No credibility.  

When I moved to Montreal, I had played ultimate frisbee at a competitive level for a couple of years. But I’d only played co-ed. Never in the men’s division (open, as it’s called in ultimate). I’d heard that a bunch of the best players in Montreal were coming in from all across the province to make a superteam in the co-ed division. A bunch had just found success at worlds, so they were ready to supplant the system and create a new team. 

New team. New tryouts. New city. But I lacked credibility. Nobody knew who I was. I barely spoke French. And I remember being nervous and being extremely mediocre on my reps at tryouts. I wouldn’t call it “being cut” from that team, so much as “never ever having a shot.” 

New opportunity. Same sport. 

Being cut forced me to look at an opportunity that I never would have considered otherwise - playing open. I was told that I wasn’t good enough, tall enough, fast enough or skilled enough to play open. I’d played it the year before on a joke team so that we could go to Nationals. But I didn’t think that I’d stand up as a serious player on a top team. Well, I was wrong. I made it. And not only that, the captains saw fit to try me in a new position - handler - that would be my go to spot for the rest of my ultimate career. 

The experience taught me what it was like to really practice. To get coached. To take feedback. To see the field from a different perspective. It taught me real strategy. And what it was like to be part of a team that competes against some of the best talent in North America. It felt fucking awesome. 

Cash in that chip on your shoulder.

There’s shit you can control and shit that you can’t. You don’t control a coach’s decision. When you’ve been cut - whether fairly or unfairly - that’s the reality. Anger doesn’t do shit unless it makes you do shit. You can walk away - like I did with basketball. Or you can lean into the slight of being cut as a motivator to get better. Or you can look for a new opportunity to open up.

- Christian

Be The Rising Tide

There’s a story from Heather McGhee in her book “All of Us” that rips my heart out. IIt shows how spite and an effort to cling to past values makes everyone worse off.

There were public pools across America that were built as public works projects in the 1930s. Small towns would try to outdo each other with elaborate public pools and facilities. But then came a wave of racial integration legislation in the 40s and 50s. Towns could no longer deem their public pools as “whites only”. And in many towns, people said fuck that and shut down the public pool. That’s right. Some people were outraged at the thought that their families might swim with black people so they decided that no pool was better. And they filled the pool with dirt instead of water. 

That’s a seriously fucked up thought process. It’s thinking about life as a zero sum endeavor. The concern that if we give access to someone else, that it takes away from you. But in reality, we all get left not being able to take a summer dip.  

Life isn’t a zero sum game. 

But we’re conditioned to think it is. Sports - the interwoven fabric and representation of American society - is clearly zero sum. There’s a winner and a loser. There’s a champion at the end of the season, and there’s everyone else. In basketball, football and baseball, there’s no medal for second place. 

Same with politics. One candidate wins. Rarely do they bring their key competitor into the fold to collaborate on doing what’s best for everyone. Having a strong point of view matters. Compromising is seen as weakness. Helping others across the aisle does not garner as much favor with your consituents as sticking to your guns. Changing your mind in the face of new information is seen as flip flopping. 

But life is more than a 48 minute game. There are no referees making calls. There is no instant replay. And life is long. 

Being a ruthless taker is short term thinking.

The person who takes the whole pie for themselves might win the short game. The 100 meter race. But the longer the game, the greater the chance there is for a bad reputation to catch up to them. For people to be reluctant to sit down at the table with them. For that “feed me the rock” / hero-ball mentality to fail. For those that have invested in building generous communities of support to lap them. 

Be a giver. Not someone who slams four Red Bulls before 9AM, smokes at the poker table and focuses solely on building their own realm of influence. 

Be the rising tide. Be a coach. Help people out. Take the time to help them improve their skillset instead of just squeezing all the value you can out of them. Invest in making the pie bigger for everyone before taking a slice.

Takers win in the short term. Givers win in the long term. 

Because the game of life stretches decades. Your reputation persists for years and years. If you’re known as a ruthless taker, people will know. Especially in a world where it’s so easy to go on LinkedIn and check with non-listed references. 

And the research backs it up. Adam Grant shares in his book “Give and Take” that it’s the givers that succeed the most in the long term.

Don’t be ashamed of being a giver.

So why do most people shy away from helping out? Pitching in when they know it would be helpful? Investing their effort to solve problems that could benefit their whole community? Honestly, it’s because most workplaces set themselves up as zero sum. There’s only one spot for that promotion. There’s only one winner of the monthly sales contest. There’s no incentive to help each other out. 

And let’s say you are someone who holds office hours for new graduates … guess what? You’re viewed as wasting time on other people’s work rather than your own. You’re viewed as “too nice” to be a senior manager. Or maybe you’ve been conditioned to downplay your contributions to others.

But that’s bullshit. Be proud of your generosity. Be proud of the people you’ve impacted. Be proud of the systems you’ve changed and the communities you’ve built.

A rising tide lifts all boats. 

It’s possible to take actions that make your life better as well as everyone else around you. It’s not about impacting equally. It’s about impacting everyone. Did Wal-Mart make Sam Walton a billionaire? Absolutely. But Wal-Mart also allows US households to save  more than $2,500 a year. Each. Sure Sam Walton is better off, but so are we! Let’s appreciate a better life.

Giving is rewarding

First off, giving feels awesome. Because you’ll see results that are bigger than yourself. And the performers at the tippy top of organizations - the ones that are the most productive, have best sales and are most profitable over the long term - are typically givers. Why? Because people trust them. Because people are rooting for them to succeed. And that causes people to help them out. 

Focus on making a difference in the lives of others and success will follow. Be the rising tide.

- Christian

The Hard Thing About Doing Easy Things

I don’t know how I do it. But sometimes I find myself making the easy shit super hard to do. 

It’s not all aspects of my life. Making time for daily exercise and movement is easy for me, whereas I know it’s hard for others. 

But writing. Fuck. God damn. I feel like it’s been fucking impossible to build it as a daily habit. 

It’s as if I create a friction point in my brain. Something that I have to talk myself into. Or more often than not, talk myself out of adhering to a commitment that I’ve made to myself. 

To procrastinate. To push it off. Or just avoid it altogether under the guise that I’m too busy.

And why? Because I want to avoid some short term discomfort. And I knowingly trade the short term avoidance for long term pain. Seriously! It’s stupid, but I fall victim to it more often than not. 

And the amount of time, energy and anxiety created by avoiding doing the thing often adds up to more pain than the act of doing the thing itself. Foolish, I know. 

It’s been this annoying pebble in my shoe. Something that grates on my sense of self. Something that feels like it’s eroding who I believe myself capable of being. Because when I lie to myself, when I break a promise that nobody else in the world knows about but me … it’s still a broken promise. It’s a failure to hold myself accountable. 

Honestly, I found it so frustrating that it was one of the reasons that I started therapy in 2019. That’s right - it wasn’t a giant suppressed trauma that came to a head. There was no crippling relationship breakdown. No dehabilitating substance abuse or anxiety. I started therapy because I was annoyed that I was procrastinating my writing. 

And I know that the only way out is through. No matter of systems, writing partners, dedicated writing time or whatever can get the words down on paper. It’s about the internal battle in my head. Winning that inner dialogue between the part of me that wants to create excuses to avoid writing, and the part of me that wants the results that a consistent writing practice provides.  

To write through the discomfort. To hold myself accountable. To publish. 

And I find it like running. The toughest part is not the act of running. It’s the distance of time between when I’ve made the decision to run and when I actually get out there and move my feet. That’s the time when my mind starts making excuses. Starts negotiating with myself to cut the run short or put it off for another day. 

But the run - the actually act of running - is enjoyable. The endorphin hit that I get from walking through my front door good and sweaty comes with a feeling of accomplishment. 

And it’s the same for writing. I fucking love the act of pounding the keyboard. Of letting a beautiful stream of consciousness out onto the page. Even the act of rewriting and editing - find that enjoyable. 

But the moment before I start. That seems to be the hardest part. 

- Christian

Becoming My Own Will Smith

The push you need can come from anywhere. It’s easy to get trapped in our own heads. To think of excuses not to do something. To push off making time for the things that you know will make you happy. To fill our days with mindless distractions of busy work. And it’s times like those that the right push can start the ball rolling in the right direction. Mine came from Twitter.

I was tracking Will Smith’s most recent journey from Fresh Prince, to Hollywood mogul, to dude who put on a few too many pandemic pounds, to the guy trying to get in “The Best Shape Of His Life” … to man trying to inspire others with his story via his memoir. This was the guy whose famous drive and work ethic stated that he would rather die on a treadmill than have someone outwork him. And he was out here setting lofty goals … and missing them. A slow(ish) time for a 5k run. Missing his publisher’s deadlines for chapters for his book. Not hitting his weight loss goals. And just generally being burnt out.

And I thought, “Wow”. This is so important. What’s happening in him being vulnerable about his failures, his misses and his straight exhaustion is he’s showing that he’s human. That the Hollywood grind that got him to the top ain’t always pretty. That failure happens. And sometimes when declare a big goal publicly … you fail very publicly.

It reminded me when Kevin Love and DeMar DeRozan kicked off the mental health discussion in the NBA. When they were very open about the struggles that they felt. The anxiety and depression that they were dealing with. Being open about the struggle. About the need to seek help. About how it helps to talk about it. And to think that these conversations will influence a generation of people that look up to these athletes, entertainers and influencer and know that it’s okay to face struggles. (And if you’re looking at the season that DeMar’s having right now, knowing that the struggle makes you stronger).

So here I am. Trying to figure out how to become my own Will Smith. To inspire someone else. By sharing my experiences. I don’t have the perfect answer of how to do it. But I know that I have to start.

I’ve tried to codify some of the with my podcast ”Make The Cut”. But the goal of that is to help the next generation of talent break into pro sports. The focus is on other people, their journeys, their lessons and their advice. I haven’t spent time on a platform to share my personal learnings. They’re always obsucated by generalizing the lesson so as to not embarass myself with a real life example. And maybe to think that it will be more easily applied to others’ lives and contexts if it’s not a specific example about getting chewed out by the President of the Toronto Maple Leafs for unfollowing a bunch of shitty accounts on Twitter.

There’s a tiny voice of mini imposter syndrom trying to tell me that it might be hubris to think that my story and my experiences can help other people. But I know that it’s bullshit. You can learn a beautiful lesson from any person on this planet if you dig deep enough. And I know that the most rewarding times for me at work is to share those experiences (those of you who have worked with me know that through our “Fail Fridays” or “Monday Recommendations”). And see people apply those lessons, get better at work. At life. To level up by their own will and hard work.

So here’s the start. Here’s how I plan* to do it:

1/ BE RUTHLESSLY AMBITIOUS

Ambition can me people feel uncomfortable. Fuck, there’s definitely been times where it made me feel uncomfortable when I witnessed it in other people. But for me that discomfort was really jealousy. Jealousy that someone else was willing to have an audacious goal and the balls to state it publicly.

That somehow their journey to chase down their goal would shine a light of me not doing it for mine. Or that their potential success would detract from my life by comparison. We humans are interesting characters. When we can’t root for each other to be successful … man, it’s toxic. And a decade ago, I was able to examine that in myself and reconsistute how I thought about ambition.

And now it’s about being public about it. This isn’t manifesting some bullshit. This is about being outwardly clear with my goals so that other people can help me with them. I want to be the top dog running a marketing team. Make ambitious work. Grow a brand to global dominance.

2/ OPTIMISM + HARD WORK

People don’t fall into success. It takes hard fucking work. Consistently. But just because the work is hard doesn’t mean that it needs to suck. And that’s where optimism comes in. The belief that it’s going to happen. That those goals are going to be crushed. That the grind and hard work is for something worthwhile.

3/ BE OKAY WITH PUBLIC FAILURE

I worked at a place where nothing was a failure. Nothing. Every single project was a success. Every single thing we did with our fans was the right thing to have done. That was the culture of the company. People were always spining something as a win. And that’s a load of bullshit.

The organization was not magically better than other places. It wasn’t batting a thousand. It was sweeping failure under the rug. Refusing to acknowledge it. Refusing to shine a light on it and let lessons be learned. And that’s destructive. Mistakes would be repeated a couple of years later. It was a joke that every three years there would be a restructure, but it was really just two structures that we would swap between.

So I’m going to be okay with public failure. And I try conduct myself in a manner as if all of the things that I say and I do could eventually be public. There are plenty of moments when I was wrong, but I thought it was the right thing to do at the time. Let’s let others learn from our mistakes. Let’s illuminate the lessons learned from failure, not just celebrate the stories of success.

4/ PUBLISH THE NARRATIVE

Write. Write. Write. Or maybe turn a video camera and make some content. But be conscious of not just living the experiences and holding those lessons tight to my chest for me to know, but to share them. To put them out there as permanent content in the world that someone can find. It might be a couple of days from now, it might be a couple of years from now … but the goal is to positively impact one person’s mind.

And be comfortable with all chapters of the story. From the start. To the struggle. To the success. To the fall from grace. To the grind it out to start again. It’s not about just celebrating experience viewed through rose coloured glasses. It’s about sharing the raw lessons that might be uncomfortable to write about, but will help inspire people.

5/ BE WILLING TO CHANGE MY MIND

The Will Smith of 20 years ago is not the Will Smith of today. Over a decade ago, he was preaching hard work hard work hard work. At the expense of sleep. At the expense of your health. At the expense of everything. But that’s not the Will Smith of today. He’s grown to understand that vulnerability demonstrates more strength than putting up an impenetrable facade.

And they say that a characteristic of intelligence is being willing to change your mind in the face of new information. Whether it be from my own personal experience, from scientific research or from patterns learned from other people’s lives, my goal is to be right. And more often than not, that means admitting to being wrong in the face of new data.

Excited to start this journey. And I appreciate you being here for the first step. I don’t know where it’s going to end up, but I know that it will be forward.

- Christian

*Subject to revision

Why We All Love Undrafted Free Agents

I love rooting for the underdog. There is certainty in being able to cheer on the favourite - you’ve got a higher chance of acheiving your desired outcome. But there is poetic beauty in the people that defy the odds. Those that saw their chances and gambled anyways. Those that knew that they had something that others didn’t see - an insight, a work ethic, a transferrable skill - that would set them apart.

Something special that was overshadowed by the bias of hiring, drafting or team building. Something stupid like requiring a college degree or a pedigree from a certain school. And every time that someone gets shit on by the system AND succeeds in spite of it, it lights me up with joy. The joy that it’s a poetic “fuck you” to a broken system of talent evaluation. To an imperfect hiring process.

And that’s why undrafted free agents are my favourite. Nay, they are ALL of our favourites. Because we all love a good underdog story. For those of you that might not be as fluent in sports analogies as I like to lay on, an undrafted free agent (or UFA) is someone who is not selected in a professional league’s annual entry draft. That means that 30+ different teams, their general managers, their scouting departments and their coaches took a look at them … and said no. They didn’t think that they could help their team. They didn’t think that they could make it in the league. But they got there anyways.

They might have taken the long route - a couple of seasons playing overseas. Or maybe bouncing around on practice squads, in development leagues and the like. But eventually they made it to the league. Through grind, irrational belief and hard work. Through tough introspection and improvement. And of course, with the help of some luck.

So here are three reasons why we all love undrafted free agents:

1/ PEOPLE TOLD THEM NO. AND THEY SAID “YOU’RE WRONG”

By very definition, not a single undrafted free agent heard their name called on draft day. Their phone didn’t ring. They didn’t get recruited. They got cut in tryouts. They got told their not good enough. They probably got encouraged by their family to “get a real job”. Rejection after rejection after rejection.

Being told by the decision makers that they weren’t good enough. Being told by their friends and family that it’s probably not going to happen. But still believing that they could make it. Still putting in the work. Still grinding to get better. Knowing that if they didn’t look like a prototypical draft prospet that they would have to bring something different.

The resilience and confidence to have the professional sports world say no and for them to say “you’re wrong.” You’ve got to fucking admire that.

2/ THEIR MENTAL RESILIENCE

You’re not just born with a strong mindset. It’s built. How? By dealing with tough shit. By getting the living crap kicked out of you, dusting yourself off and getting back up. Mental resilience is a muscle and undrafted free agents are the swolest people in the room. They’ve tasted failure. Rejection. They’ve heard the haters say that they weren’t going to make it. So when they experience that on the professional level, they are ready. They’re willing to take the big shot. They’re willing to go up against the best player in the world.

And if they get schooled, they learn from it and then get up to do it again. Their playing with house money. When others are playing not to lose, they’re playing to win. The mental toughness that you see reminds us all that when you go through shitty moments in life, it’s how you react to them that matters. That lemons can always be turned into lemonade.

3/ IT’S PROOF THAT EFFORT MATTERS

Genetics matter. Where you’re born matters. Your family situation matters. If your parents can afford to pay for private quarterback coaching when you’re 13 years old … that shit matters. But so does effort. Darious Williams is a starting cornerback for the Los Angeles Rams. A couple of years ago, he was a delivery guy for 1-800-FLOWERS. He worked his way up from the practice squad to the starting roster. From picking off a starting quarterback as part of the scout team to playing under the bright lights at SoFi stadium.

When you hear these stories. When you understand where undrafted free agents come from, the lesson that you learn again and again and again is that it’s all about the work they put in. It’s not always hard to put in the work for a day. Or a week. Or a month. But to show up every single day for YEARS. The consistency of effort compounding over time is what brings them success. And the beautiful thing about that is that all of us can put in the work. We can all devote immense consistent effort to what we’re doing. It’s entirely within our control. And that’s fucking magical.

—

My favourite player happens to be an undrafted free agent. He was nominated for the 2019 NBA Finals MVP. But he didn’t win. His name is Fred VanVleet. He came up in the Raptors 905 G-League team, balled out there with Pascal Siakam and made his way on to the Raptors squad. He’s not the one sitting with the MVP trophy (that would be the beloved “fun guy” Kawhi Leonard). He’s the one with the stiches on face. Who brought the same grit, resilience and effort required to make it into the NBA to the Raptors championship team. Who was a defensive menace on the best shooter in basketball.

Every time something seems out of your league or a gatekeeper tells you your dream isn’t going to happen, remember Fred VanVleet and bet on yourself.

- Christian

There Are No Individual Championships

There are solo sports. But there are no solo championships.

Sometimes it's you facing a single opponent. Boxing. Tennis. MMA. You're locked in. One on one. At the end, one person exits the court, the ring or the cage as the winner.

Sometimes it's you against the herd. 100 meter heats on the track. Battling through the crowd at the start of a triathlon. Trying to time your kick versus the field as you round the bend in the 1500m.

And sometimes it's you versus the best that you can do. A lot of track and field events are like that. Gymnastics. People take turns and you're just trying to clear the best result. The best score. But it's just you by yourself out there in the moment try to beat your previous performance.

At the end of the day, one person gets to stand atop of the podium. One person gets to raise a trophy. One person gets to hang a gold medal around their neck. One athlete. One competitor. One champion.

Except championships aren't won alone.  Every champion has the will. The determination. The skillset. The desire. The athleticism. And the focus required to win.

But they didn't develop those alone. They have mentors, coaches, and a team. Their ability to earn the right to stand on top of the podium is a direct result of the preparation, process and skills they built along the way. The skills developed by their team.

George St Pierre is widely regarded as one of the greatest mixed martial artists on the planet. He won titles in both the welterweight and middleweight division. He went 26-2 across his professional career in the UFC. But each one of those 28 times he was locked in a cage with an opponent, he wasn't alone. He worked with Freddy Roach on his boxing, John Danaher on his jiujitsu and Firas Zahabi on his overall fight strategy. That on top of training partners, nutritionists, athletic trainers, recovery specialists and more.

Serena Williams has Patrick Mouratoglou. Michael Phelps had Bob Bowman. Usain Bolt had Glen Mills. None of those coaches received an Olympic medal or championship trophy. But each of them created the environment for their athletes to win.

A great reminder - no championships are won alone. Even in individual sports.

- Christian

How To Silence Your Inner Critic

Sometimes the greatest opponent to doing great things is that little voice inside your head. The best thing to do to shut it up is to DO exactly what that little voice says that you couldn’t.

Because that little voice inside your head is afraid. It’s afraid of trying something and failing. It’s afraid of succeeding and having everything change. It’s afraid of challenging the status quo of the everyday pattern of your life.

Ignore that little voice inside your head. Instead, listen to the feeling in your heart that’s begging you to create or try something new.

 - Christian

Getting Over My Cupcake Problem

A couple of years ago, a good friend of mine told me about his wife's cupcake venture. She was frustrated with her day job and wanted to start a side hustle. She also knew that she wanted to bake. So she decided to start a home baking business - cupcakes. Maybe the occasional cake.

And he was supportive. He helped out with ingredients. He helped drop off deliveries. He even pitched in on the baking when required. I have a vivid memory of him telling me that after one big order how they worked late into the night and the whole order just kind of took over their kitchen and house.

But unfortunately, it took them both a bit longer to realize that it wasn't worth it. That the business model didn't make sense and the inputs (money, time, labour) outweighed the outputs (profit, joy, fulfillment).

And after hearing this story, I asked my wife to stop me if I ever came forth trying to make any of my “cupcake” ideas work. I wanted her to tell me when trying a new business or creative venture was stupid. To ask me the annoying questions that would force me to reconsider if it was worth it. If it made sense. If it would work. To be the reality check of my energy and optimism.

I love the idea of entrepreneurship. I love the thought of finding a needs, solving a problem, building a brand, creating a customer base and more. But I have never taken productive steps to get there. I enjoy the occasional creative side project, but as far as creating a business that physically exists in the world? Nope. Not there yet.

And I was trying to figure out what's holding me back. And it dawned on me - it was a cupcake problem. I had built mental barriers to entry.  And I had created a system for it - asking my wife to stop me before I went too far with a “cupcake” idea. And it wasn’t until recently that I realized that the fear of my “cupcake” ideas was actually holding me back. I wasn’t executing on things because I was afraid that they wouldn’t work. I didn’t want to fail, so I didn’t want to try.

So around two years ago, I decided to adjust my framing.

The shift in thinking? Pursue the cupcake idea. With $150. Seriously. Now, if I have a hair-brain idea that may or may not be a good idea, I'll invest $150 to try it out. I'll pay to put something out in the world to see if it sticks. To see if I enjoy doing it. To test if people even want to do it. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't.

I mean, that's how I started my podcast. It was an experiment. $40 microphone. $20 editing software. And I think it was another $15 a month for internet hosting for the podcast. I know ... I originally had plans to pay for expensive virtual recording software, hire a remote editor, ship gifts to potential podcast guests and more. But for $75 I was able to knock out my first two episodes over a weekend. And now I'm 9 episodes in. Pretty cool.

The world definitely does not need another t-shirt brand with random slogans on them that make me laugh.

And that's also how I did NOT start a clothing line solely based on things that I liked to say in Franglais (that sweet sweet Québécois vibe of blending French and English to say whatever you want.) I got some shirts/hoodies designs. As I dug into it and it was just not there for me. I realized that the cost of design, production, shipping was too much of a pain in the ass for me to enjoy. And despite the low cost of production, the cost of paid advertising simply didn't leave a comfortable profit margin. Plus, there’s enough shitty/stupid t-shirt printing “brands” on Shopify. I didn’t need to pour effort into another one.

So that’s the new rule. No idea is too stupid to invest $150 in. It’s like angel investing in myself. If nothing else, it’s the price of a knowing what doesn’t work.

- Christian

3 Experiments I Would Run If I Were Forever21 (Or any mall retailer)

Welcome to the great reset.  2020 saw a whole lot of retailers closing stores, adjusting the capital expenditure and slicing at operational expenses.

One of the biggest challenges with traditional retail was simply their retail locations. Locked into multi-year leases and having invested a lot of sunk capital into their locations, they didn't have the flexibility to pivot and move like some smaller businesses. Add on top of that the need for a national strategy where in-person events and restrictions varied by state and it was likely a strategic nightmare.

Locations closed. Inventory was dumped. A lot of retailers went conservative with their future buys based on the uncertainty. Some accelerated their digital and e-comm plans in order to survive. The uncertainty compounded the difficulty of decision making. And people had to innovate to survive.

But now we're (almost) out of it. And we're looking at the great reset. The difference between this recession and the ones that the economy has faced before is that there's a root cause. And an end date.

Per a 2010 article in Harvard Business Review, the winners from past recessions don't just follow one strategy. They don't just cut costs. They don't just scour for efficiency. They don't just invest in innovation. They don't just expand their markets. They don’t just cut. They don’t just invest. They do both. They leverage the moment to become more operationally efficient. And they reinvest that money in their people and innovation to come out fo the recession stronger.

One of the things that I've been thinking about was uncertainty. Uncertainty exists because we don't have reliable data. And one of the best things to do when you're faced without reliable data is to go get some.

And that's where experiments come in. Don't know what's going to happen? Run an experiment.  Either it works or it doesn't, but at the end you have data.

So here are three tests that I would run if I was Forever21 or any other retailer locked in to large physical locations.

1/// HYPE LOCAL CAPSULE COLLECTIONS

The Asset: Production means and quick turnaround times. Quick turn fashion has that production cycle on lock. They can turn stuff from idea to reality in record time and they're masters at it. And they're probably sitting on a lot of blanks if you want to keep it simple.

The Experiment: Collaborate with local artists, designers and storytellers to drop a monthly collection. Keep numbers small and curate it as a regular drop. Create a system that it's plug and play and easy to drop into local markets.

The Logistics: Boilerplate legal agreement that allows benefits the artist. Make them a fan, not an asshole. Write it in easy to understand language so that they don't need to pull in a lawyer and you're not trying to fuck them over. For the experiment, have the cost/payment to the artist be the same for everyone. Have transparency around that.

2/// INVEST IN EMPOYEES AS CREATORS

The Asset: Your employees. We've all seen the awesome stuff that great employees do when they're excited about your brand. Don't pull a Sherwin-Williams. Enable that behavior! Invest to make it easy for your employees to create and share.

The Experiment: Put a photo studio in the store. Seriously. Different props, backdrops and more. Gen Z is a generation of creators. It's the generation of influencers and side hustles. Make it easy for them to create. Encourage their creation and reap the rewards.

The Logistics: Eat up retail real estate you say? Why would I do that? Because it's an investment. Switch out one of the change rooms to be a mini-photo studio with great lighting. And then pay your sales associates for 30 min each day to put in time to create create create.

3/// BRING IN THE DTC HEAT

The Asset: Physical retail space. Seriously. In today's DTC world a lot of brands can go direct to consumer online. A couple of them can build out their own stores (shoutout Warby Parker). But what about the middle? Those brands that have a lot of heat, but people still want to access them in person?

The Experiment: Allocate a couple of retail displays as showcases for DTC brands with heat. I remember when Travis Scott was touring in 2019 that the Kylie Jenner Lip Kits were flying off the shelves as part of the concert merch. Why? People could buy them online?!! Because people still want to physically shop. If you can be the bridge to an audience for a brand like ColourPop (shoutout to the Canadian/UK spelling), than there's potential to benefit both brands. Think of it like Casper pillows being on shelf at Target.

The Logistics: Is it as profitable for you and for them? Fuck no. But take the time to run the math and provide flexibility with the terms for both parties. Standardize those terms to be able to scale and invest in those relationships. It's a big opportunity for distribution. I would start the experiment by focusing with brands that benefit from an enhanced physical interaction (like makeup or scents). My hot take is that a million of these brands launched during the pandemic. Cherry pick the best ones that are ready to take that next step!

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Some of these might work. Some of these might be boneheaded. But the point of  experiments is to find out the truth. What works? What doesn't? I'm a big fan of hot takes, but let's be real - opinions are nice, but data is better.

- Christian

Push Send

There's no better feeling than publishing. Than putting your work out there. Than putting the pedal to metal and creating something that is out there in the real world.

Ideas are great. Strategy is great. But putting things out there is life giving. It builds energy. Momentum. Excitement.

As the Chinese saying goes, "talk doesn't cook the rice." You need to actually get out there and do.

The one fortunate element of my personality is that I'm not a perfectionist. I value publishing over perfect. That's why you've seen mistakes / typos / grammatical errors on this blog. I don't triple check. I don't agonize over getting the exactly right word or phrasing. I just push publish.

Because to me, it's better for things to be out there than not. It's better to get thoughts out of my head and into the real world than worrying if they're the right ones.

Why? Because the cost is low. The worst thing that could happen is someone reads an article, sees a post, listens to an episode of a podcast and doesn't like it. The worst thing that could happen is that nobody reads it. The worst thing that could happen is nothing.

So there's very little to lose. And the best thing that could happen is that what I publish gets read. Impacts someone's day. Impacts someone's week, month or year. That someone finds it valuable and passes it on to someone who needs to read it.

And regardless of those external reactions, I get to do something that I love - write. And I have the privilege of putting my thoughts on paper. I get to embrace the gift that writing gives me - an outlet of excitement.

So push publish. Push post. Push send.

What have you got to lose? Nothing.

- Christian