The Long Haul by James Wilson

One experienced designer’s words of wisdom on how to

make a go of it in the ever-changing, ever-challenging,

ever-enjoyable field of design.

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Conventional wisdom has it that two types of people start their own businesses: those who can't stand working for someone else and figure they could make more money on their own, and those who are creative problem solvers with high energy who are prepared to risk making less money now in exchange for the long term opportunity.

Guess which type is more likely to succeed?

A young designer fresh out of school may feel compelled to start their own firm versus working for an established studio, but there are pros and cons to both approaches. The designer who works in an existing firm receives a valuable launch pad for their career, while the one who starts up before they have kids and other commitments means they’re able to work into the night and most weekends unencumbered.

I’m writing this piece in the hope that any young designer who reads this column will step away with a broader perspective on just what it takes to make it in this industry over the long haul, particularly as a studio owner.

In The Beginning...

When I incorporated Overdrive I was 31 and had six years of experience under my belt. As luck would have it, I was also starting a family. Launching a business and bambinos at the same time meant my wife handled a lot of the family business alone. Long hours and pouring all the resources back into the company was a given; I didn't take a holiday for the first six years. Being a sole owner contributed to that, but that kind of commitment is what’s necessary to launch and grow a successful firm.

The fact is, everyone on your team has to be on the same page. Flashback to winter 1990. Very pregnant wife (VPW) and I are on the way home from some social event. I need to drop by the studio for "just a minute.” I leave VPW in the car in the parking lot and dash inside. When I return some two point five hours later, the car is covered with snow and VPW is asleep, covered with a blanket. She wasn't pleased, but she was prepared. In those early days, we scraped by with a family of four on $35K/year and an intimate relationship with the plastic mafia which took years to pay off.

From a respectful distance, I would look at the established firms like Concrete, Taylor Browning and Ove. I wondered, how did they do it?

While I had design experience, an education, a work ethic and plenty of optimism, what I didn't have was business experience. I'm not talking about dealing with clients and meeting deadlines. I'm talking about establishing a billing rate based on actual costs of production: labour, rent, proportionate admin infrastructure, amortized and proportionate capital purchases. It also meant learning how to accurately estimate the number of hours needed on a job. Estimating time has never been an exact science in our subjective, ever-changing industry, but getting your ass kicked a couple dozen times certainly helps in getting more precise. No substitute for experience there.

I was lucky enough, however, to acquire a father-in-law with an MBA. As my sage advisor reminded me many times, you can choose to drop your rate, but never underestimate the hours. Said advisor has also reminded me many times that you must listen and act expediently upon the advice of your sage advisor in order to realize a successful outcome. I have found this to be mostly true.

I acquired expensive infrastructure, things that now seem quaint, like drafting tables, stat machines and light tables. Sometimes typesetting cost thousands of dollars per project, courier bills and colour output likewise, and there was no such thing as bezier curves, levels, unsharp masks or email. Yikes! Then, in 1990, I made my move to the RGB side and bought my first Mac. It had an 040 processor and 4 MB of Ram, a 14-inch colour monitor and a 300 dpi printer that cost me $16,000 before taxes. My parents had to co-sign the loan because the bank wouldn't touch me otherwise.

Told you it took commitment.

What It Takes

The studio has grown one person at a time, and I've always stressed over finding those who are both gifted and the right fit for the business. Design colleges are in abundance, and so are graduates, but in my experience the 80/20 rule still applies. Once I'm lucky enough to find the right person, and they hone their craft with the studio for a few years, inevitably they will need to move on. It goes without saying that finding and nurturing talent is an ongoing process.

So, as a small business owner who has had the privilege to serve my clients for 25 years in the mercurial communication design business, I've allowed myself a moment to consider what goes into successfully sticking around for a couple of decades. I've experienced the following in all of their full-blown splendour and lived to tell the tale.

Who knows, maybe I'll turn the list into an app?

1) Always do good work, even if it's a 1/8th-page black-and-white something or other. Understand when enough is enough, but as I like to say, "The kind of work you do begets the kind of work you will get." Overdrive has been lucky enough to mostly get decent work.

2) Give good value. Make sure that your client feels like their money was well spent. It's a combination of many things: good work, congeniality, humour, client education, project management, good correspondence, articulation, no surprises, timeliness and the dedication to following up.

3) Don't give work away unless it's a damn good reason. For instance, there may be a select little pro-bono/low-budget campaign that you're dying to show your chops on, or maybe there's a client whose been especially good to you and there's a little extra in it for them as a thank you. That kind of thing. Understand what your work is really worth: a combination of human and material infrastructure, credentials, experience and what the market will fairly bear. The point is, if you don't know what your work is worth, you are doing both your firm and the industry a disservice by perpetuating a lack of standards.

4) Hire the right people. Find young talent and give them a chance. Stay in touch with schools and students and the ones that you don't hire, help out. Pass them along to your esteemed peers. Everyone will want to be your friend.

5) Ask questions and listen to the answers. The right kind of questions draw out an articulated response from even an inarticulate source (i.e., a client who isn't quite sure what they want). Then listen and observe attentively. Listen for the stuff you can make notes on verbatim, but more importantly, pay attention to the subtext. If a person in a blue suit and red tie sitting in a corporate boardroom states that they want something dynamic and engaging, they may be looking for something different than if that same statement was coming from Russel Brand. Remember, if you don't have the answers, you don't have the tools to do any problem solving. This can quite possibly lead to what my son Vaughn would allude to as "an epic fail.”

6) If there is a problem, deal with it right away even if it is painful or embarrassing. The problem will only get bigger with time. And never lie to a client. I'll leave it at that.

7) A graphic design firm is a business. If you are not business savvy, listen to your business advisor — like a father-in-law with a business background — and get a good accountant. Insider tip: my accountant for the past 15-plus years has some mighty useful podcasts at http://www.businesscast.ca.

8) Give back to the community. Mentor or otherwise volunteer for your local professional association or design schools. It also helps with finding and keeping in touch with quality human beings.

9) Never lose your awareness and sense of wonder. Look at the mundane with fresh eyes. My wife, Leslie, may suggest that this is easy for someone who purges their short -term memory when it gets too full of Pantone colours and docket numbers; I would prefer to say that I live in the moment and move on. You have to be the judge.

10) Stay current and keep learning. Reinvent yourself before you need to. Life in the design world is constantly accelerating, whether it's keeping up with the most recent plethora of software updates or continually enhancing your core skills.

I'll tell you a secret: I both loathe and love this business, and I don't think the sentiment is uncommon. There are days when I'd like nothing better than to just pack it in and go live in the woods. Then, just when I think I can't take it anymore, I start to look at the work, share ideas, have a beer with my peers, look at what I'm learning and then I think to myself, “This is what it’s all about.” Treasure those moments.

As an inspiration, I like to think of the esteemed Milton Glaser of Push Pin and self-titled studio fame. At 76, he’s still doing great work for great clients, and his I Heart NY logo is one of the most imitated in history. I can't lay claim to the exalted reputation that Glaser has achieved, but he is a master of the cardinal secret of design success: reinvent yourself before anyone thinks it’s necessary. The most telling example is that, at the height of Push Pin’s success, Glaser left to start his own studio in 1974. Thirty-six years later, he hasn’t stopped.

I'm hoping for just a small share of that kind of longevity and enthusiasm. With hard work and a bit of luck, you can share in it too.

James Wilson is the founder of Overdrive Design in Toronto.

Comments

Errol Saldanha

October 25, 2010 11:19 AM

Peter Scott

October 27, 2010 11:54 AM

Errol Saldanha

October 27, 2010 01:07 PM

Alex Wigington

October 27, 2010 09:06 PM

Mark Busse

October 27, 2010 10:10 PM

Ben Weeks

October 27, 2010 11:44 PM