Are you planning on possibly starting a home business? It’s an exciting and liberating thing to do. But it has its pitfalls. My words of warning and caution are not at all intended to turn you away. We my husband and I began our own home-based business four years ago and it was the right decision. But it has been demanding and difficult as well as rewarding and exciting. What is rarely mentioned is the change involved. This article is mostly about that, and mostly about my husband’s transformation as we moved into our own home-based business.
The decision to start our business had been in my mind for about ten years. I had been a schoolteacher and my husband was an investment banker. However, my real interest was in creating dishware, crockery, and all the assorted items that go with a meal in a restaurant. I was especially interested in organic food and cooking and I worked at creating dishware for organic restaurants. That became my passion. I thought about and dreamed about it and hoped that one day I would start a home business.
My husband was not interested in the home business idea, although very supportive of my dream for myself. For years he thrived in the corporate world. He was the essence of the high achieving executive, and he loved it. Then the stress began to build. Then, our son went away to college. It seemed to be time for a change. Over and over we would repeat the pattern: I would suggest that he quite his job and join me in our own business. Again and again he said no.
Then he reached a point where the stress became serious and for the first time he talked about a business. He would market and I would create. We talked and let our imaginations work. We would makeover the house and turn part of it into a set of offices and what I called “creation” rooms. We talked on and off for days. Finally, he said yes. That was how we began; it has been six years since that decision.
My husband left his investment career and we invested a large portion of our savings into a renovation of the house, the creation of offices and the renting of warehouse space.
We were looking at a complete change of life. Not every business involves that level of commitment, but for us, our savings and our future were wrapped up in our business, as well as our dreams of independence. We had cut many ties to our old life and we had to accept the demands involved in entering a new world. But the demands are as exciting as they were difficult. For us, nothing in the work world can compare with creating and selling products that we have made and we are responsible for.
Our new company transformed me into the “creative person”, surrounded by mountains of material and working day and sometimes night to meet deadlines, make changes, create new items and attempt to provide what the customer wants. For me, however, it really has been a dream that has come true. I mean that literally. I have always loved creating these items and I had often daydreamed about selling them. That has come true.
My husband is the “nuts and bolts” person. We soon realized that marketing would not be his only job; all the pickup of materials and all the deliveries, which are often all the same job, went with it. He goes to the warehouse. He stocks the truck. He delivers everything to our customers. He sells and delivers - our product to small stores, restaurants, gift shops and individuals.
We also soon realized that we would have to work very hard to sell products to a specific niche market. The type of person who will items related to organic food is not the type of person my husband worked with in his previous work. The type of company he deals with is very different as well. He spends a lot of time meeting and talking with potential buyers and following up with current customers.
We both do presentations, which are often in our home. We are also both responsible for covering orders that come in over the web, phone and mail.
Now I will describe the beginning of real changes that took place in my husband. It really began with his attempts to sell our products to the organic food market. His first trip to a store owned by self-described “former hippies” was met with distrust and silence. They liked the material but didn’t like my husband’s appearance and manner. He was much too corporate and much too clean cut. They were not impressed with the image that had worked so well for him for so many years.
This happened again, and then again. It was clear that some radical change had to take place. My husband fought it but finally, grudgingly accepted it; unless he made a dramatic change in his appearance, manner and style, we would never build client relationships. So he gathered up his courage and went about transforming himself.
Now, we didn’t plan on that big a change when we started. But the work does require manual labor, and it does require that he work out of our home. It also requires constant contact with people who wear very casual clothes, often have long hair, shaved heards, earrings and beards, and live lives outside the mainstream. As our public relations person, my husband finished changing an image that was already changing. We had to face the fact that in the world of small business, people will relate to and feel comfortable with others who can understand them.
How can I explain the details of the transformation of my husband? I will try to describe the physical change and also the impact on him. There is some humor in it, but it also describes what really happened.
First, picture to yourself a tall, dignified, impeccably dressed and groomed 40-something corporate executive; every hair is in place and he is dressed to the nines, briefcase in hand, and his overcoat is over his arm. He has left his office, and is standing in front of a glass and chrome financial office building. Seveal execs stand there smiling. He pulls out his keys and is ready to get into his Porsche. He is standing in front of the car; it is sleek, dazzling and new.
Do you have that picture in your mind? Good…
Now…snap your fingers. The beautiful office building is gone; in its place is a rundown warehouse. The executive is in shock. He shakes his head in disbelief. He then rushes to get into the safety of his Porsche and its leather seat.
Snap again. The Porsche disappears; it has been replaced by a used and not very clean pickup truck.
Our executive recoils and looks around him, stunned and speechless. Take the opportunity to reach over and take the keys to the car and his office out of his hand and replace them with the keys to the warehouse and truck.
As this happens, the executives wander away. They are replaced by a growing band of people in tee shirts, jeans, sandals and long hair. The men are bearded. The gather around and watch him. The executive looks at them in bewilderment.
Oh, and while he’s preoccupied, slide his wallet out of his pocket: remove all the business cards with the title “Investment Banker”; take his frequent flyer miles card, his American Express corporate card, and then his driver’s license. Replace the license with a truck driving license.
Now, it gets really interesting; unfortunately we have to use more intense shock therapy to recreate the glassy-eyed, shell-shocked look that my husband had for quite a while.
Now, we happen to know that this particular executive places special importance on perfectly-polished and carefully maintained leather shoes. But we’ve got a makeover to do. So…Quickly grab his ankles and just as quickly untie and pull off his gleaming, mirror-shined $700 Ferragamo hand-crafted wingtips, and be sure to snatch those Armani dress socks off him as well. Yes, it has to be sudden, because the look on his face reflects reality (And yes, he wore Armani socks. He was a very dapper man).
As he stands looking at his bare feet, snap your fingers: the monogrammed cufflinks and the tiepin vanish. Snap: his silk pocket square is gone. Another snap: his Cartier wristwatch is replaced with a Timex.
Snap: the Burberry overcoat over his arm is gone, and a polyester jacket with his name on the pocket has taken its place.
Now, you should know that this executive is the poster-man for “suits”. He has not worked a day a job since graduation without a suit. Sorry, makeover time….
Strip that $1600 pinstriped Armani business suit off him, along with the attached paisley braces, and drag off the perfectly knotted Hermes necktie and the starched white Brooks Brothers shirt. Snap your fingers. He is now wearing a tie-dyed tee shirt, battered jeans, and on his feet, his toes poke out through old birkenstock sandals without socks.
Steal his razor and don’t allow him to visit the barber. Snap your fingers again. A scruffy stubble appears on his clean shaven face. His perfect yuppie haircut grows into a straggly ponytail. Add a little dirt under his impeccable fingernails and his palms.
And now the final touch: snap your fingers again. His $1200 briefcase is replaced by a cardboard box; it is full of materials for delivery. He is the deliveryman.
That was and now is my husband. Is this description an exaggeration? Only in terms of the time it took. Every other detail of the transformation is accurate. The change was partly the result of the job itself and partly the result of customer demand. His transformation has not been an easy one for him, and it has been jolt for me as well. It has come in stages, but it is now complete and it has produced excellent results for our business. The same people who turned us down are now our best clients.
Our willingness to change has been combined with perseverance and (we hope) a good product. Our revenues are increasing and we are talking about hiring a person part-time. Our customer list is growing. Our reputation is as well, as we are introducing a new product line soon.
For a long time I wondered what my husband really thought of his metamorphosis from an always dignified, distinguished, dapperly attired, suit-and-tie, shiny-shoed executive into a bushy haired, bearded and often barefoot blue-collar working man with dirt under his nails and a pickup in the driveway. I had been the one to push the idea, and he had long resisted it. He had thrown himself into the work, but I wondered if he missed the life of a corporate high-flyer. We were both so busy that we rarely talked about the changes as they were happening, and he is a very reserved man. Three months ago, I was given a clue.
A man from a charity for the homeless appeared at our door one day. My husband had called him. He met him at the door with a box containing all twelve pairs of mirror-shined leather dress shoes, from Brooks Brothers to Gucci, and a bag containing eighteen pairs of black dress socks; every pair he owned.
I whispered to him: What he would wear if he needed dress shoes? He grinned and said he would buy a pair at Walmart. Now it was my turn to be stunned! The precise and controlled man whose shoes used to gleam like diamonds! Walmart!
The young charity worker looked surprised, and disbelieving, when I mentioned that my husband used to wear those shoes to work every day. He could not connect the shoes with the man. Then my husband produced another bag: all of his white dress shirts, starched and on hangers. Finally, he brought up his suits every one. His suits!
What had happened to my husband? Was this a real inner change to match the outer change? He talked for several minutes, and mentioned to the young man that he had been an executive, a banker, for many years but the blue-collar voice had taken over and he now wanted to get rid of his old life.
The young man laughed, picked up a pair of Italian wingtips and said “You used to have an office, and wear these suits and shoes and now you’re barefoot in the kitchen?”
I glanced at my husband. To my relief, he nodded - and laughed.
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