The entire design concept of Hysteric Glamour is based on the 1960’s to 1970’s American cultures that influenced Kitamura during his childhood. Designer Kitamura works hard to design each piece using bright vivid colors while remaining pleasing to the eye. The inspiration of Hysteric Glamour clothing comes from intriguing aspects of American culture such as music, comics, pornography, automobiles, mass media such as package designs and neon lights.

It is a clothing line for ladies from the high teens to the mid-twenties. It is mainly known for its t-shirts and jeans. The designs are colorful and mixing the 70’s style with a taste of industrial mass media pop recognized in American comics. The brand covers a wide variety of clothing including t-shirts, jeans, cardigans, frilly tank tops, mini dresses, and many accessories.

Hysteric Glamour was launched in 1984 when Kitamura decided to bring his designs to the world. Serving as chief designer, company manager, and store developer, Kitamura has spent his entire career building the label Hysteric Glamour into the popular tag it is known as today. Since the beginning there have been over 51 stores opened in Japan alone.

The brand began launched outside of Japan in 1991 by opening a store in United Kingdom, and became a favourite of alternative rockstars like Mark Bolan. Stores have been popping up all around the world since. While the company is expanding quickly there are currently no stores located in the United States. This leaves many Americans desperate to find authentic Hysteric Glamour clothing in-turn driving up the prices.

In 2006 Hysteric Glamour launched a line of limited production clothing inspired by, and based on the designs of, American pop artist Andy Warhol. Some of the most popular items sold out on the first day. Warhol branded Hysteric items included jackets, jeans, t-shirts, and accessories.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=02TTN5ZUgn8

“The best way to communicate with any prospect, customer, or coworker based on their unique personality” claims the website. Really? How could it possibly know about my affinity for emails containing attachments or my dislike of hyperbole? Without actually searching through my emails, at least.

Crystal is a new service that analyzes publicly-available data sources to come up with personality profiles for coworkers and friends, and then recommends ways to communicate with them. If you pony up for the paid version of the service, Crystal will also offer real-time editing suggestions in emails, tailored to the recipient’s personality.

It was masterminded by Drew D’Agostino, the co-founder of management software company Attend.com. In the summer of 2014, he left that job to experiment with the possibilities of using online content to gauge people’s personalities.

“I naturally don’t have a high emotional intelligence, and I saw a lot of email miscommunication happening,” he says. “So I started building this algorithm to detect personality type. After a few months, it got to be kind of scary accurate.”

According to D’Agostino, the information that Crystal finds is essentially what you’d discover by Googling somebody—company bios, Amazon and Yelp reviews, social media profiles, and so on. Crystal weights certain sources more than others—a big block of text written on a review site gets more weight than a retweeted article, for example.

I was surprised at the low accuracy confidence of the score considering how much publicly-available text I write as part of my job. “For a writer with tons of articles, there’s actually a lot of noise in that. It’s stuff that’s not necessarily talking about yourself,” says D’Agostino. “That can throw it off, but also the algorithm isn’t perfected.”

“We see public data as the starting point,” he says.

The service falls in line with a growing number of attempt to use data to gauge people’s communication styles. Many of these come in the form of monitoring at work. One startup, for example, is creating “sociometric badges” that listen in on conversations.

In Crystal’s system, people can fall into 64 “personality buckets,” which borrow heavily from personality tests like DiSC. “There are different communication styles for different personality types, and those communication styles use email differently. Like with people who’d put an entire email in a subject line with no text—a lot of little things like that can be traced back to how a person’s wired,” says D’Agostino. Hence the feeling that Crystal must be delving into your email archives, even though it isn’t.

Though the service has only been available for a short amount of time, and hasn’t spent any money on marketing, it already has thousands of users. It’s especially popular among salespeople, recruiters, and managers.

For now, Crystal is focusing on email, but it will eventually branch out to other kinds of online communication. “The real key going forward is getting more of a recipient-focused experience. I want people to email me in the way I like to be emailed, and that’s not part of our product yet,” says D’Agostino

“Hi! I’m Michelle”  says Phan as we enter Ipsy Open Studio in Santa Monica, California, home of the subscription company she co-founded four years ago. Sophie Torres is sitting at a table, neatly arranging brushes, bottles, and tubes in preparation for a video tutorial she is going to film about hard-to-pull-off hairstyles. She is a member of Ipsy’s extended family of online beauty influencers, who all use YouTube, Instagram, and other social media to build careers as beauty gurus.

Phan is the biggest guru of all. Since 2007, when she started making videos of herself applying makeup in her bedroom and uploading them to YouTube, she has amassed a following of almost 9 million subscribers who tune in to watch her dreamy-voiced instructions on everything from “grunge beauty” to how to achieve the Daenerys Targaryen look from Game of Thrones. Now, through Ipsy, she’s helping others follow in her footsteps—last May, Ipsy opened this 10,000-square-foot studio, complete with 360-degree cameras, state-of-the-art lighting, and elaborate props, for its network of beauty vloggers to shoot their videos.

The standard of beauty, the idea of beauty, is changing. The one-size-fits-all look no longer really exists.

Torres seems a little flustered by the sudden appearance of the 28-year-old Phan and apologizes for not wearing any makeup. Phan, who’s dressed in a simple black turtleneck dress and colorful Nikes, smiles warmly. “It’s fine. We don’t judge here. I don’t have any makeup on either.”

It’s true. But though there is nary a hint of kohl or foundation on Phan’s porcelain complexion, it’s clear she takes beauty very seriously. Phan has written a book and is developing a premium video network and music label, but Ipsy demands most of her attention—and brings in the most money. The subscription service works in much the same way as rival Birchbox, sending out a set of personalized beauty goodies each month in an ever-changing set of “Glam Bags.” Ipsy now boasts more than 1.5 million subscribers (who pay $10 a month for the bags), surpassing Birchbox at just over a million. In the fall, Ipsy raised $100 million in Series B funding from the high-profile firms TPG Growth and Sherpa Capital, valuing the company at a reported $800 million. Since then, Phan and her partners, CEO Marcelo Camberos and president Jennifer Goldfarb, have been busy. They bought back her two-year-old cosmetics line, Em, from L’Oréal, to reassert creative control and fully profit from its sales. But their ambition is much more far-reaching. While Birchbox takes in a reported 35% of its revenue from sales of full-size beauty products online and in flagship stores, Ipsy remains focused on using its community to drive subscriptions. Its bet: that as the cosmetics industry grows ever more decentralized, Ipsy will emerge as the go-to source for beauty advice and intelligence.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cFq5caWVOrU

To realize this, Ipsy is investing heavily into building up its already 10,000-person-strong network of amateur beauty vloggers, such as Torres. These content creators aren’t bound by a stringent contract. “They just have to make a few videos a month that are Ipsy related; the rest is up to them,” Phan says. Together with Ipsy’s in-house stylists, they generate 300 million social media impressions a month for the company. Ipsy gets exposure (it has so far done very little paid advertising) and more views of its ad-embedded YouTube content. In exchange, it gives these vloggers access to the Open Studio, mentoring, networking, and publicity opportunities, and special tools, such as a mobile app that helps with beauty giveaways.

Ipsy’s plan reflects where the cosmetics industry is heading. No longer do many women (particularly millennials) get their makeup tips at the department-store MAC counter or from a celebrity spokesperson. Rather, they head to the Internet and binge-watch DIY videos posted by people like Phan and Karen O, one of Ipsy’s in-house stylists. The fact that these new voices of authority are both diverse and relatable makes them invaluable marketing tools for brands. One recent study by Defy Media found that more than 60% of 13- to 24-year-olds said they would try a product suggested by a YouTuber. “The standard of beauty, the idea of beauty, is changing,” says Phan. “The one-size-fits-all look no longer really exists in this new paradigm.”

The YouTube-wrought democratization of beauty has also allowed smaller makeup lines, which lack the marketing budgets of bigger competitors, to break through. Researchers at the Kline Group estimate that sales of indie cosmetics brands grew by 19.6% from 2013 to 2014 (though they still represent just 7.3% of the total market). NYX, a Los Angeles–based cosmetics company now owned by L’Oréal, skyrocketed to $100 million in sales in 2014, thanks largely to beauty influencers who participated in NYX’s annual video contest.

Given this new reality, major cosmetics brands are aggressively courting social media stars. Smashbox has opened its photo studios to vloggers who create “Made at Smashbox” videos. And the campaign for Garnier’s Fructis Full and Plush hair-care line last year was put entirely in the hands of 100 vloggers; the resulting YouTube videos received more than 3 million views. “We get complaints if we launch a product and it’s not reviewed by key vloggers,” says Beth DiNardo, Smashbox’s global general manager.

For companies unaccustomed to the strange new world of social media celebrity, Ipsy serves as a guide, helping to get their products not only out to subscribers but also into the right tutorials. In return, Ipsy gets its Glam Bag products for free. “Part of our proposition to brands is ‘We will give you an amazing marketing campaign and an amazing experience with our community,’ ” explains Goldfarb. Ipsy also provides brands with a detailed report on their products based on feedback from subscribers. According to Goldfarb, there are no plans to charge for this intelligence, but it helps the company attract “the best of the best” beauty companies, from more established brands such as Urban Decay to up-and-comers like the two-year-old Trust Fund Beauty.

But even with its army of vloggers, Ipsy faces a stiff challenge: Consumers may be getting their beauty tips online, but most still buy their products in brick-and-mortar stores. According to Shannon Romanowski, senior beauty analyst at Mintel, less than 5% of women who are 18 and older and online use subscription services like Ipsy and Birchbox. “Although the beauty subscription model is a growing trend, beauty tends to be an in-store purchase,” she says.

Ipsy’s response is to keep growing its community. The company’s latest effort is hosting a series of Generation Beauty conferences—a Comic Con of sorts for beauty lovers. In 2016, there will be four events in cities including San Francisco, up from two last year. “The one we just had in New York, we had 850 creators, plus 3,000 people paying $150 each to attend, plus all these brands,” says Camberos.

At the heart of Ipsy’s community, of course, is Phan, whom Camberos calls its “soul.” Although she’s become fluent in MBA–speak, chatting easily about new “business paradigms,” she still uploads a video every week and is Ipsy’s primary source of trendsetting ideas. As we talk, she opens up a notepad and starts absentmindedly sketching a pair of enormous, seductive eyes with long lashes. “I think this will be the design of a new bag,” she says, holding it up like a mask in front of her face. “If this was the Glam Bag, you could take a selfie like this and just have fun with it.”

This article was first published in Fast Company.

Michael Dubin has a sense of humour. He wrote, produced, and starred in one of the most viral YouTube videos that’s ever been posted, a 2012 ad for his company, Dollar Shave Club. In it, he brings the viewer on a hilarious tour of his warehouse to explain why “our blades are f**king great.”

A flood of visitors crashed his company’s servers 90 minutes after the video went live. It has been watched more than 22 million times. That video, and the story of its creation, has become entre­preneurial folklore. Today, his business is the second-largest men’s razor brand in America, topped only by Gillette.

Here, in a recent interview, he describes how it all started:

“The beginning of the story is about solving a problem for guys. And the problem that we’re solving at the very basic level, and that we have been very focused on for the last couple years, has been that razors are really expensive in the store. It’s a frustrating experience to go and buy them. You have to drive there. You have to park your car. You have to find the razor fortress. It’s always locked. You have to find the guy with the key. He’s always doing something else that he doesn’t want to be helpful. We actually just launched a bunch of TV commercials set in the store that kind of have some fun with that frustrating experience. They’re doing really well for us.

I launched a beta site in 2011, and I ran that for about eight months. I ran it from my apartment—it was totally bootstrapped—proving out the concept before going out to get some investment. And so I kind of funneled the early dollars from the beta phase into the production of the original video, which I used as a tool to help raise money.

Ultimately we closed our angel round in January of 2012, and that was $100,000 from an angel in L.A. And then we re-launched the site in March of 2012. We closed a million-dollar seed round on March 6th, 2012, which was coincidentally the same day that we launched the video.

The first couple days of that were terrifying. The site crashed because of the traffic, and the video had gone viral, and we ran out of inventory in the first six hours. And I mean, you know, I blocked a lot of that out because it was a very trying, difficult time to get through. You work so hard for years on this idea that everybody has told you is a terrible idea, and suddenly you’re about to prove them all wrong, and your wildest dreams turn into your worst nightmare.

And so that was an intense time. A lot of label-printing at the office, driving the labels down to the warehouse, which was a very small warehouse, not equipped for any commerce operation. I mean, literally there were days when I was taking the trash bags—we were printing out thousands of labels a day, and we were putting them into trash bags because that was the only thing that could carry them. And we were hurling them over the fence at night for the people to pick up the next morning and slap on the packages.

This was a fulfillment house that had never done any kind of mail order e-commerce or anything. They were doing things like wrapping up soap bars and putting them back in boxes for wholesale, or like sticking windshield wiper washer fluid pellets into tubes and putting it back on the truck. They were not experienced fulfilling customized e-commerce orders.

We did $4 million in revenue in 2012. We did $19 million in 2013. And we did $65 million in 2014. And we’re now on a 100-million-dollar-plus annualized run rate. We did $8.5 million in revenue in December of 2014. I would say that that was an intense period for hiring. We brought on a lot of great talent in the very early days that are still with us, all of them are still with us, and all in service of solving that kind of key problem.

I spent about $4,500 on the first video. I wrote it in a day. It was directed by a friend of mine who I had studied improv comedy with in New York when I lived there for about eight years. When I was working during the day at Time, I was studying improv at night along with other things, taking some business classes, et cetera.

Somehow I’ve become known as a standup comic. That is not the case. I was never a professional comedian or actor. Maybe you can clarify that. But it’s sort of become this urban legend that I was a standup comic. I studied improv with a woman named Lucia Aniello, who became a friend, and she just happened to move to L.A. like two weeks before. And I said, ‘Hey, I’m launching this business and I want to launch this video. I want to film this video. Can you do it?’ And she did it for next to nothing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3FOae1V1-Xg

And all that money basically went into production, and we probably shot it in about eight hours in the original warehouse in Gardena, California, where we were doing all the fulfillment at that time. So I remember leaving that shoot day and thinking to myself, ‘That was good. We did good work today.’ And then I got on a plane to go home for something, I forget what it was.

I had no expectation for how the video would do. I knew when I saw it that it was good, and It was a piece of work that I was proud of. It was funny, and it told the story really well. There’s a lot of funny videos on the Internet. And this one had a real purpose and a real story. And the reason it hit emotional pay-dirt for people was because there was an enormous amount of frustration. And finally here’s something that somebody’s doing about this really big problem. And we also created this piece of social content that was very sharable. Guys talk about how expensive razors are, and we gave them a piece of content that said, “Hey, remember this? We were just talking about this. Check this out. And it’s really funny.” So it went much more viral than I would have expected. And we would have planned a lot differently server-wise, inventory-wise, if we had known. It was a crazy time.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AbtB3ta-Qco

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mCjCI-4U81U

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbKz9-hJuYY

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hD72gghdqtU

Update, 19 July 2016

Unilever acquires Dollar Shave Club for $1billion

Unilever is paying $1 billion in cash for the Santa Monica-based business.  Dollar Shave Club founder and CEO Michael Dubin will continue to run the company, which will operate its direct-to-consumer razor business as an independent entity. The acquisition should help Dollar Shave Club expand faster into new geographies (it’s currently in three countries), and significantly improve its distribution abilities in existing markets.

“DSC couldn’t be happier to have the world’s most innovative and progressive consumer-product company in our corner,” Dubin said in a prepared statement. “We have long admired Unilever’s purpose-driven business leadership and its category expertise is unmatched. We are excited to be part of the family.”

Dollar Shave Club had raised over $160 million in venture capital funding, most recently last November at a $539 million valuation. Its seed round of funding was led by Forerunner Ventures, its Series A and Series B rounds were led by Venrock, while Technology Crossover Ventures led its two subsequent rounds.

Brunello Cucinelli began life in humble surroundings, growing up with no electricity or running water. Today, aged 60, he is the founder, chief executive and designer of a global luxury lifestyle brand with a market capitalisation of more than $1.5 billion.

In a recent interview with BOF he said “I wanted to be a real expert, to have a specialty or niche. There was no coloured cashmere for women. So I went to the dye shop and here we had the most famous dye expert, a young guy, I said, ‘I’d like this to be orange.” The Italian soon went out to market equipped with three round neck sweaters and three V-neck sweaters, selling 400 in the first three months.

Over the next 15-20 years the brand remained entirely focused on one product category. ““In terms of the product, it was innovative. I was seeking perfection for one single thing. I was the man with the sweaters, the cashmere guy. Womenswear was the first step and then around the 1990s we started with menswear too, but knitwear only. My hope was that it would be modern, looking after colours, the shapes.”

By 1998 sales stood at 200,000 sweaters a year, despite the fact the brand operated only one tiny monobrand store. In 2000, following requests from American buyers for a total Brunello Cucinelli look, the brand expanded its product offering. Over a period of six years, during which the brand annually rolled out four or five stores globally, Brunello Cucinelli established his namesake brand’s aesthetic. Cucinelli took his business public in the Milan Bourse’s only IPO in 2012, becoming a billionaire in the process. The company generated $444 million in revenue in 2013.

Cucinelli built his company with a deep respect for his employees and the human impact of his business. In keeping with what he dubs a human capitalist philosophy, every stitch of clothing his company creates is made in Italy, mostly in and around Solomeo, the 14th century Perugian hamlet that Cucinelli has lovingly and personally restored over the past two decades and where his clothing empire is based. Seven hundred and twenty employees work in Solomeo and, on average, are paid about 20 percent more than they would make elsewhere.

Cucinelli takes time out from meetings with designers of his next collection to discuss work — and why people shouldn’t exhaust themselves doing it. It’s a drizzly mid-September morning in Solomeo, the 12th-century hamlet where the 62-year-old CEO has located both his home and the global headquarters of his namesake fashion house.

Atop the cypress-forested hill is a medieval castle that Cucinelli has restored for his living quarters and a school. Nearby is a library open to employees featuring Cucinelli’s favorite thinkers, including Kant and Ruskin. Farther down the hill, artisans weave $3,000 cashmere sweaters from the undercoats of rare Hircus goats. He asks the 1,000-member staff to knock off work at 5:30 and not to send business-related e-mails after that to conserve their creative energies. “People need their rest,” Cucinelli says. “If I make you overwork, 
I have stolen your soul.”

Cucinelli calls his employee-centered approach humanistic capitalism and traces it to his teenage years. He watched his father trade the family’s life on a farm for more money in a factory, only to come home exhausted from a dark cement-making plant where colleagues mocked his peasant clothes. “It was very repetitive, hard work,” he says. “Very often, he’d be humiliated.”

Cucinelli insists on balance at his company. That includes a 90-minute respite at 1 p.m., when workers break en masse for lunch that costs a few euros in the subsidized canteen. On this Monday, they’ll dine on steak, pasta and local produce bathed in Cucinelli’s own olive oil. His Brunello & Federica Cucinelli Foundation extends the philosophy to funding projects that make the world more livable. “Restoring a church or maybe restoring a hospital,” he offers as examples.

For a mogul who competes with the storied houses of Gucci and Prada, Cucinelli is an upstart. Gucci was run by second-generation family members before Cucinelli was even born. He founded the company in 1978 and has built it to 1,400 employees, a presence in 60 countries, and a $1 billion market valuation. Since 2012, when Brunello Cucinelli SpA listed on the Milan stock exchange, annual net profit has jumped 52 percent to $43.9 million. Sales increased 10.4 percent to $472.8 million last year, more than double the average of 37 luxury-goods companies compiled by Bloomberg Intelligence.

Fellow fashion CEO Gildo Zegna  is a fan, so much so that his menswear company, Ermenegildo Zegna Group,  holds a 3 percent stake. “It was natural to become an investor,” Zegna says. “We admire his philanthropic and humanistic capitalism.”

Analysts are less dazzled. Only one who covers the stock rates it a buy, with seven advising hold and five saying sell, Bloomberg data show. Shares have fallen by more than a third since peaking in January 2014, depriving Cucinelli of billionaire status. “The question I have on Brunello Cucinelli is whether the brand has enough unique features and underlying tangible elements to maintain its very high pricing long-term,” says Luca Solca, head of luxury-goods research at Exane BNP Paribas.

Cucinelli says he’s out to make money but the markup must be 
reasonable. His company’s operating margin is 13.8 percent, lower than the average of 17 percent for its peers, according to data compiled by Bloomberg. “Would you buy a product if you knew the manufacturer made 
a huge, preposterous profit?” he asks. He says his prices reflect his garments’ hyperlocal production, hand craftsmanship, and sustainable sourcing from Mongolia and northern India. He pays employees about 20 percent more than the average Italian manufacturing wage. If this ethos draws customers, all the better, he says.

In Solomeo, Cucinelli saw the chance to revive a village that residents had abandoned and create the workplace his father never had. His wife, Federica, grew up in the town. He began visiting in the 1970s, after dropping out of engineering school at 21. He’d started a small company in Ellera di Corciano, near Perugia, making brightly dyed cashmere sweaters. As the company grew, he decided that when he had the money, he’d bring life back to Solomeo’s borgo, or town center. “I wanted to be a guardian,” he says. “Someone who basically spent his life in this very tiny corner of the world and embellished, restored, and built something new.”

He bought the central part of the castle from its absentee owner and moved the company there in 1987. “I thought we’d all go back to appreciating life in the village and my buildings would acquire value,” he says.

Today, women in gray smocks work in light-filled spaces, the antithesis of his father’s dank factory. One, with glasses at the end of her nose, deftly threads cashmere fibers through a machine’s metal teeth, fluffy yarn spilling onto her lap.

Cucinelli lives up the hill, surrounded by a 300-year-old frescoed church and classrooms he’s built to teach young people arts from knitting to masonry. His next endeavor is plain to see from the terraces. He’s tearing down six disused warehouses in the nearest valley to make way for a youth-sports stadium, vineyards and orchards. He sold shares worth €62.9 million ($71 million) in January to fund the parks as a buffer against industrial sprawl. “We have to start to give humanity back to the outskirts,” he says.

When employees leave for those outskirts at day’s end, he’ll likely return to his castle to restore his own creative juices. “I’m here only transiently,” he says. “It’s my duty to make these places more beautiful than when I found them.”

After a decade of working for large corporations, Vicky Tsai yearned for simplicity and authenticity in her life. On a trip to Kyoto, she discovered a world of pure beauty, craftsmanship and heritage. A chance encounter with a modern-day geisha changed her life.

The beauty secrets she learned from the geisha introduced her to a different approach to skincare — that less is more. Their skin care philosophy and time-tested ingredients were captured in an ancient text widely considered to be the oldest beauty book written in Japan, and perhaps the first such work of its kind. Within its three delicate, thread-bound volumes are seven chapters devoted to beauty and elegance in both appearance and spirit. This special guide informs and inspires our collection.

Among the many titles Tsai holds at Tatcha — founder, CEO, product developer, sushi connoisseur in chief — the one on her business card suits her best: Chief Treasure Hunter. A Harvard Business School graduate turned globetrotting beauty expert and explorer, Victoria splits her time between the Bay Area and Japan, where she travels frequently to work with scientists, researchers and modern-day geisha to create formulas for the Tatcha collection.

She created the line after suffering from acute dermatitis and developing a keen awareness about the importance of ingredients used on the skin. Pregnant with her daughter, Alea, at the time, she made certain every product would be as gentle and safe as it was effective.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HxvHFyveKJ8

Here is an extract of a recent profile in Entrepreneur magazine:

Vicky Tsai has been on a continual hunt to find that ideal combination of living simply and naturally and appreciating this life. And her journey reminds us all that if you have a problem or an issue, odds are good someone else is suffering from it as well.  So fix it and build your business around the solution.

As a fixed-income analyst at Merrill Lynch, Tsai worked in the World Financial Center, which was across the street from the Twin Towers. So she saw everything on 9/11. And everyday thereafter. “Every time they recovered another body we knew because they would cover it with the American flag,” remembers Tsai.

And then her once-athletic husband got very sick for the next two years after the attacks. “And they still don’t know what happened,” she says. “Plus I just didn’t believe in what I was doing anymore,” says the Jersey Girl, whose parents came from Taiwan.

So she knew it was time — they had to get out of there. Life is a gift, she says. Don’t waste it.

She went back to business school and got a job launching consumer products in China. But she made the grave mistake of testing way too many of those products on her own face. She ended up with acute dermatitis – which is basically a bleeding, blistering red rash – and couldn’t find anything to cure it.

In the process of researching a treatment for herself, she learned that the FDA has no oversight over cosmetics here in the States. “Ingredients are innocent until proven guilty here,” she says. “There are no advance protections in place for consumers.” And the chemicals in some of the products she tested were obviously the reason for her current condition.

We often forget that the skin is the body’s largest organ and 60 percent of what you put on your skin passes right through into your body. So Tsai got completely turned off by the cosmetics industry and went “the natural, granola route, but that didn’t work either,” she says.

When flying through Japan one day, she came across these blotting papers – thin papers you use to pat your skin and absorb the excess oil. They were made from the abaca leaf, which is more fibrous that a banana leaf, and hammered into a super-thin sheet.

Her skin started to dramatically improve with these papers and she learned that the Geisha used them.

Geisha, which means arts person, are considered almost sacred in Japan. They are the female version of Kabuki actors.

Thanks to inaccurate accounts of sexual promiscuity, they have closed down their access to the rest of the world. “They don’t want to be taken advantage of,” says Tsai.

But she went back to Kyoto, the center of Geisha tradition, to find them anyway because she needed to know more of their beauty secrets.

When Tsai met her first Geisha she was blown away by her beautiful skin – with that white makeup and without makeup. “It was magical to meet her,” she says.

She learned that what they put in their bodies they put on their skin. But they didn’t write anything down. For more than 300 years, these traditions were just passed on.

She eventually heard that there was one book with all the details, written 200 years ago.  When she finally got her hands on it and had it translated, “I didn’t know whether to be delighted or disappointed,” she says.

It was super simple: In addition to the abaca leaf, they used green tea, seaweed, red algae, oatmeal, rice bran and Japanese wild roses.

In the Western world, we are taught to believe that future discoveries must be better than what happened in the past.

But certainly not in this case.

“Visiting Kyoto was like walking back in time. Craftsmanship and integrity are still part of everyday life,” says Tsai. It inspired her and made her believe in something again. And she wanted to keep that feeling with her at all times.

It was then she decided to create a company that embodied these simple, old principles.

She sold her engagement ring and car to finance it. She took on consulting jobs and was even the superintendent of a building to make ends meet.

She found two partners and began the process of creating products — those blotting papers — made from these few ingredients.

When the first 10,000 arrived in big wooden crates, she panicked. “I really hoped other people were as obsessed with this piece of paper as I was” even though it wasn’t new or technologically advanced, Tsai says.

They put up a little website, “and there were crickets,” she says. The only people who purchased were a few good friends, whom she is forever grateful to.

She tried to hire a PR agency but they all turned her down.  So she sent samples to magazine beauty editors and makeup artist.

And then people took notice. She was soon in every magazine, including O, the Oprah Magazine, and on the Today Show. Calls from stores started coming and today her blotting papers now are in every Hollywood star’s handbag.

Her skincare, all made with the same ingredients that the Geisha used, has taken off as well. While the company is private and doesn’t release numbers, 2014 results were made available and total revenue was $12 million.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kIi2B_dz7XY

Everyone asks Tsai about her “exit strategy” because that seems to be the top question when your company is headquartered in San Francisco.

But there is none. “I am on the 100-year plan,”  she says. Her intent is to leave the company for her daughter and she wants it to stay in the family for generations to come.

In 2014 they started a partnership with Room to Read, an organization committed to improving our children’s education. So every full-sized Tatcha skincare purchase funds a little girl’s day of school. She has since funded more than 1,500 years of school for girls in 11 countries.

“That is how I measure my success,” she says. That’s how we all should.  Life is a gift. Live simply.

Go start your own treasure hunt.

Kate Unsworth is the 28 year old maths graduate who became a fashion and tech entrepreneur. In the last 5 years she has set up three businesses, from fashion to wearable tech, splitting her time between London and LA, driven by a belief in the power of ideas … “Ideas will continue to evolve the more you tweak them and the more you learn.”

Unsworth is the founder and CEO of the London-based company Vinaya, a research and design house aiming to explore the relationship between humans and technology. Vitaya is described as a “Studio and Lab” (part fashion, part tech) building design-led technology products that elevate productivity, tranquility and wellbeing. They believe technology should be seamlessly integrated into our lives and driven by human-focused insights.

Unsworth has brought together a multidisciplinary product team that draws inspiration from three main pillars: minimalism, innovation and sustainability. Based at the Vinaya House, a three-story building in the heart of London’s creative hub, Shoreditch, their goal is to use technology to make us more human than less human.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SX08PtRYxW4

Vinaya’s first product range was called Altruis, a collection of mindful wearable technology in the form of smart high-end and high tech jewellery. The FT described the range as “utterly genius, and possibly more exciting than the Apple Watch.”

“We want to empower you to take a step away from your phone so you are less distracted,” Unsworth said. “When you are in a meeting or at dinner, we want to give you a way to remain connected to the most important people but silence the noise. You set different profiles so you can filter who can make your ring or necklace vibrate. I can add it for specific people or specific words. I have my close family on my list, it connects your text, phone, email and Whatsapp. I have two secret words banana and martini, if you need me urgently, use one of the words in the subject line of an email and you will reach me.”

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A user can vary the number of vibrations, so one vibration could be your boyfriend, two vibrations could be your boss, three can be your mom, whatever a user’s priority level is. The goal it make people aware of how they spend their time and steer them away from bad habits.

“When you were only your phone ten minutes ago, it hasn’t buzzed but you refresh, it’s just a habit. We will alert you when someone important is trying to reach you so you can wean yourself off that habit,” Unsworth said.

The Altruis collection is comprised of rings, necklaces and bracelets, retailing from $345 to $450. The line is made in sterling silver base, with gold plating or rose gold plating, and zirconia ceramic stone. Sourcing production across Asia, the jewelry is made in Bangkok, the electronics in Taiwan and the stones in Hong Kong. The battery lasts a month, and charges in under 30 minutes.

Most recently Vinaya announced their latest creation: Zenta, the world’s first biometric band for emotional wellbeing.

Zenta is the world’s first designer biometric wearable that interprets your emotions, helps you understand your own behavioral patterns, and allows you to share how you feel visually, in the form of art. User data will create what Vinaya calls “biometric art” and pieces made from the technology will be featured at Art Basel later this year.

“Just like our first product Altrius, Zenta was built in order to help you re-establish ‘connection to self’,” Unsworth explains. “In such an always-on world, it’s so easy to distract ourselves with emails and articles every spare moment we have. But we should consider the impact this has on our stress levels, emotional state and our ability to self-reflect.”

Emotion technology is nothing new, just like wearable tech, it’s been around for over a decade. However Unsworth said that technology has only recently reached the point where the electronics can be shrunk down to something actually wearable. Just as The Consumer Electronics Show declared 2014 “The Year of the Wearables”, Unsworth, predicts that 2017 will be “The Year of Emotion Tech”.

“It’s literally only in the past year that the idea of ‘Emotion-sensing consumer tech’ has become feasible from a technical perspective, which puts us in a very exciting position,” Unsworth said. “We were ready and waiting on the start line with the likes of Apple, and given our ability to be fast and nimble, we’ve managed to compete with them. Zenta contains more advanced sensors than the Apple Watch, and aggregates the data in terms of emotions, rather than fitness.”

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Zenta uses the most advanced, patented, sensing technology to collect physiological cues such as heart rate variability, blood oxygen levels, respiration, perspiration and temperature. This data is then cross-referenced against other data from your smartphone including your social media usage, calendar, location and more to derive actionable insights. The more you wear Zenta, the more it can build up an accurate profile of your emotional responses over time, identifying possible triggers, and spotting patterns in your behavior. These personalized insights then allow you to design your life in a way that makes the most sense for you, so as to decrease stress and increase happiness.

“Zenta provides a more complex medium to understand our own personal emotional scope, acting as a tool to visually share our feelings with others, unlocking a new potential for self-awareness and enhanced emotional intelligence,” Unsworth said. “An emotional system that is unbiased and thought provoking, Zenta could just be the next unlocking of self-awareness, self-actualization and personal development.”

Unsworth is both an artist and mathematician, and she is uniquely positioned at the intersection between these two worlds, making her the perfect person to blend these two disciplines in a unique way.

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“Growing up I was always a musician – in my mind that was unquestionably the life path I was going to take,” Unsworth said. “I became fascinated by how numbers define music: frequency, harmony, resonance, intervals, syncopation… I fell down the rabbit hole and wanted to understand more about numbers in nature. In a way, numbers allowed me to enhance my creativity. I quickly realized that math and coding could simply be another creative outlet for me: it was like adding another color to my palette.”

Given Unsworth’s story, her creation of “bio-art” makes perfect sense: This data-driven, algorithm-based artwork is generated by physiological clues. Vinaya has collaborated with New York City artist Betty Kay to transform feelings into art.

“Betty Kay’s art will be decoded into our algorithms so our users can generate their own mesmerizing ‘nebulas’ using their biometric cues,” Unsworth said. “With the help of Betty Kay’s supreme talent and intuitive understanding of color, shape and form, I really believe we can create an entirely new way for people to express themselves.”

The colors reflect your emotional state, the density of color indicates how strongly you feel that emotion, and the shapes/brush strokes give an indication of your state of being, for example, more angular artwork is created when you are stressed.

“I want to provide people with a means of creating beautiful, personalized visual reminders of how they feel at certain points in time,” Unsworth said. “Imagine buying someone a canvas and being able to say ‘this is how I felt the moment I fell in love with you’ – what a meaningful gift, to be able to actually show someone how they make you feel.”

“The name Zenta was inspired by the desire to find moments of stillness – of zen – amongst the chaos of daily life,” Unsworth said. “We shouldn’t have to escape to a beach with a piña colada, or to the Himalayas for a meditation retreat just to find peace, we need to figure out how to bring that into our daily lives in bite sized chunks. Zenta helps you do this by identifying when and why you’re at your most balanced.”

With Zenta, Vinaya aims to create a new emotional lexicon. A way of visually showing people “this is how I feel” without having to struggle to articulate it… Could this be the future of dating? To see if your Biometric-art matches with that of another?

Unsworth concludes “When you think about it, given how advanced technology is today, it’s bizarre that we still have to digitally express our emotions to one another by pushing pixels back and forth on a screen through text and email. Emotions are far more complex than pixelated words, or even emojis, can begin to convey. The existing method of emotion communication is just not doing us justice!”

Zenta will retail at $249, but can be pre-ordered for $119 only through their Indiegogo page.

Diesel is a global clothing and lifestyle brand. With a history stretching back over 30 years, the company now employs some 2,200 people globally with a turnover of £1.3 billion and its products are available in more than 5,000 outlets. However, this list of numbers is far less interesting than the company, people and founder behind them. Diesel is a remarkable company with a unique mindset. A mindset which puts sales and profit second to building something special, something “cool” and something which can change the world through fashion.

The story begins with a young Renzo Rosso passionate about the clothes he wears but disappointed in the options available to him in his home town Molvena, Italy. Acting on impulse, he decided to use his passion to make the clothes he wanted to wear. Renzo was drawn to the rebellious fabric of the 1960s and rock & roll: denim. It inspired him to create jeans which would allow him and others to express themselves in ways other clothing simply could not. 

Proving popular, Renzo made more and more of his handcrafted creations, selling them around Italy from the back of his little van. The still-young Renzo is the proud owner and CEO of Diesel along with that impressive list of figures. That impulse and passion apparently paid off.

Diesel sells nice jeans. Close, but no “A”. Actually, it”s not that close. The reason Diesel has grown is because it knows it is about a lot more than selling nice jeans. Diesel is a lifestyle: if that lifestyle appeals to you, you might like to buy the products. Renzo describes this as an end of the “violence” towards the customer forcing them to buy and rather an involvement in the lifestyle.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=udUv8pFG5_Q

The brand

It might be useful to ask a question what actually is a brand? The answer could take a variety of routes and go on for pages but a useful way to think of a brand is as a set of promises. Those promises form the basis of the customer”s relationship with that company. In the case of Diesel those promises are very personal, very passionate.

The Diesel brand promises to entertain and to introduce customers to new, experimental experiences. Its product line now goes far beyond premium jeans and includes fragrances, sunglasses and even bike helmets.  These products complement, convey and support the promises of passion and experience made by the Diesel brand.

Being such a crucial element of its work you might imagine the product design team at Diesel to “plot” in something akin to a war room, pushing little squadrons of well-dressed soldiers around with long sticks. Actually, this is where that elemental passion which created Diesel sets them apart from many others. The whole team at Diesel lives the brand. They are all incredibly passionate about their creations. So when it comes to expressing that passion, ideas come naturally. Living and breathing the set of promises the Diesel brand communicates means employees can listen to their instincts, creating products straight from within.

Be Stupid

A recent marketing campaign was built around this phrase. Diesel took a look at what brought its current pipeline: it was Renzo Rosso, all those years ago, taking the “stupid” move to make jeans he wanted to wear. Then he took the even more stupid move of trying to sell those jeans to others, believing he might not be the only fool in Molvena! As it turned out, there were quite a few more to be found and Renzo’s “stupid” move ended up creating something which millions of people around the world now enjoy.

Promotion and marketing at Diesel takes a very different route to many other companies. It is always about engaging with the customer as opposed to selling at them: creating an enjoyable two-way dialogue as opposed to a hollow one-way monologue. All elements of Diesel’s promotion aim to engage the customer with the lifestyle. If they like the lifestyle, they might like the products.

For example, the Diesel team saw music as an inseparable part of that lifestyle and realised that exploring new music and new artists was all part of trying something different and experimenting with the unusual. 10 years later, Diesel U Music is a global music support collaborative, giving unsigned bands a place where they can be heard and an opportunity to have their talent recognised. It’s not about selling, it’s about giving people something they will enjoy and interact with.

Tied to Diesel:U:Music is an online radio station. It is another example of where Diesel unconventionality has created something which pushes conceptions and the usual ways of doing things. The radio station takes a rather unusual approach of not having a traditional play list but rather gives the choice to the resident DJ. This freedom is reflected in the eccentric mix of music which is played on the station.

Remix marketing

In promotion and marketing, we often talk about “above-the-line” and “below-the-line” methods of reaching consumers. Above-the-line marketing is aimed at a mass audience through media such as television or radio. Below-the-line marketing takes a more individual, targeted approach using incentives to purchase via various promotions. In this case passion again acts to blur and gel the boundaries between the two approaches. If we had to define this approach in terms of theory, we would call it “through-the-line”, i.e. a blend of the two.

The passion and energy embodied by the Diesel lifestyle is communicated through a mix of above-the-line and below-the-line approaches. The balance and composition of that mix is what the Diesel team hands over to their passion and feel for the company and brand. That energy guides the way this abstract theory is realised in projects such as Diesel:U:Music and the “Be Stupid” campaign, which entertain and interact with their potential customers.

Another, drier, way of describing “place” in the marketing mix is “channel” or distribution channel. The way a business chooses to offer its products to its customers has a huge impact on its success.  Only around 300 of the 5,000 global outlets which sell Diesel products are owned and managed by the company itself. The majority are large department stores offering many other brands or boutiques with a very specific style of their own. How do you maintain the quality of a product and its communication when dealing with so many different partners and distribution channels?

This approach to distribution can be seen as a mix of exclusive and selective distribution over intensive distribution. Exclusive distribution involves limiting distribution to single outlets such as the Diesel flagship stores. Selective distribution involves using a small number of retail outlets and partners to maintain the quality of presentation and communication to the customer. Intensive distribution, on the other hand, is commonly used to distribute low price or impulse goods such as sweets.

The price of a product is so much more than a little, or rather big, number on a tag. The price of a product is the most direct and immediate tool a business can use to convey the quality of its product at the point of sale. If done right, the price reinforces the rest of the marketing, drawing in the target customers by conveying the appropriate quality.

Diesel has a premium pricing model. As we have discussed, Diesel is far more a lifestyle than a clothing brand.  Through the vision and passion of Renzo Rosso, the company has created a whole new approach to engaging with its customers. The price of Diesel”s products needs to reflect the substance and value of that experience.

A strategy such as penetration pricing used by businesses making high-volume, relatively low-margin products would be inappropriate as it would undermine the quality association thus devaluing the brand and experience.

We do not pay a premium price for Diesel jeans because they are a premium quality, that is taken for granted. We pay a premium price because the jeans and the brand fit in with and even encourage a premium, dynamic lifestyle built “for successful living”, as Diesel would say. 

The team at Diesel must be intimately in tune with that lifestyle so they can see how their diverse range of products from jeans to fragrances and even bike helmets fits within that lifestyle. That feel for what Diesel is and how we, the potential customers, interact with it allows the company to price those products in a way which complements and neatly fits into that lifestyle.

Beyond brand

The marketing mix is all good and well but it doesn”t paint the full picture. To understand it we must look at the “touchy, feely” elements of business which are less often discussed. Diesel has built its existence around that touchy, feely passion with every one of its 2,200 employees living the Diesel brand. Diesel is the perfect company to allow us to see how this dry theory actually works in real life: how the passion of a founder like Renzo Rosso can be communicated around a company and breathed into each and every one of its diverse products.

Diesel grew into a global household name for premium clothing but it all started from that one man wanting to do something unusual, something “stupid”. Stubbornly he stuck to his belief in doing the unusual and it has created a global company whose products are enjoyed by millions. More importantly, this has created a lifestyle a whole new approach to the way we see a brand. Diesel is an experience which interacts with and entertains its customers a far deeper relationship than most other brands.

Being driven by passion and the desire to do something special naturally ties these elements together. Understanding theory like the marketing mix in a company like Diesel can be difficult if we expect the elements of price, place, product and promotion to be separate from each other. It becomes easier if, like a magic eye picture, we look beyond the dry theory and realise all of these elements are inseparably bound together by the passion of people like Renzo Rosso who have dedicated their lives to treating their work as an artistic expression of their feelings.

Isamaya Ffrench is no ordinary make-up artist. At 25-years-old, the self-taught innovator had already worked with some of the world’s most revered fashion photographers. Her facial art has graced the pages of Dazed and Vogue, and she was recently appointed YSL’s UK make-up ambassador, a position she juggles alongside her stewardship as beauty editor of i-D Magazine. Ffrench has gained a reputation for her simultaneously iconic and iconoclastic work, as she redefines notions of beauty, pushing the limits of what make-up art can be.

“In faces we seek truth and understanding, so when you challenge that by painting them,” Ffrench says, “it disturbs our normal interaction and sense of who someone is. I love to challenge that – I like the idea of creating imagery that catches you out!” Such an element of surprise is distinctive to her playful treatment of the face as an artist’s canvas, onto which an unexpected story might be told. Often experimenting beforehand with the help of illustration apps, scribbling on her tablet in a fusion of techno-art. For her, make-up art is not a question of making someone look “pretty”, but of stimulating “emotional responses, such as nostalgia, euphoria, fear, or surprise”.

She studied Product and Industrial Design at university – a course, Ffrench says, that favoured “mass production for mass consumption, rather than subjective creativity for the individual”. Luckily, her side-job as a children’s face-painter proved to be fruitful, leading Ffrench to leave Central Saint Martins, before joining a London-based collective of avant-garde performers across music, dance, drama, art and fashion.

Industry guru Nick Knight even stated that she is the first make-up artist since the legendary Pat McGrath to make genuine waves in her field. But it is precisely because Ffrench refuses to stick to the confines of make-up art that makes her work so original.

Deliveroo has become London’s most talked-about startup. In 2013 investment banker William Shu unleashed his entrepreneurial urge, and since then Deliveroo delivery bikes have become ubiquitous across the British capital. She has also landed £137m from major investors and now sees Uber — among others — in his wing mirrors as he furthers his plan to dominate how food is delivered in cities around the world.

Shu and a couple of helpers were picking up food from restaurants in Chelsea and delivering it to local residents just three years ago. At the last count, it is now dispatching a vast fleet of pedal and motorcyclists to 5,000 restaurants in 52 cities across 12 countries and is being earmarked as a global tech-meets-logistics giant for the modern age. The rise has been meteoric.

However, Deliveroo no longer operates below the radar and faces stern questions about how resilient its business model is. As it launches around the world, how well can it stand up to a host of competitors?

Any appraisal will invariably lead to a discussion about its ‘playbook’, a term popularised by Uber — the company that has defined the on-demand economy — referring to its finely tuned blueprint. The blistering speed of Uber’s international roll-out is considered to be a function of this playbook of streetwise tactics and wily manoeuvres to establish the service in a variety of cities with a level of speed and impact that no one had previously seen.

Deliveroo’s own playbook is built on hyper-locality and the intense propagation of a triumvirate of constituents: restaurants, drivers and customers within a 2.5 mile radius. The process of lighting the spark in an area to see if it reaches a point of sustainability is an anxiety-inducing and cash-draining affair. Deliveroo is believed to have honed its loss-making period down to just three months for a typical neighbourhood that it has launched in.

Few companies have embraced the ‘think global, act local’ maxim as emphatically as Deliveroo, which hasn’t deviated from drilling down to micro areas even as it has become bigger. Each patch of streets is identified based on how well it ticks its three golden criteria: lots of nice restaurants, affluent locals and people densely packed in together.

Only when all three exist, the company says, can it offer sufficient choice and deliver within its 30- minute threshold. Because of this criteria, even its early fans thought the concept little more than a ‘Kensington startup’; surely the Deliveroo concept (and prices) couldn’t stretch beyond the most salubrious of postcodes. As it has turned out so far, very few areas the company has launched in have flopped, prompting it to take more gambles and loosen its criteria. The model appears to have worked in student-heavy towns such as Exeter, lower-income cities like Coventry and even sprawling cities including Cheltenham and Berlin. All a long way from King’s Road.

It’s now preparing for a major international push. It launched in Dubai, Singapore, Hong Kong and Melbourne in autumn last year and the background of its latest investors offer a revealing insight into the company’s next steps.

The lead investor in the last round was DST Global, a major investor in Facebook, Spotify, Airbnb, Twitter and the key backer of India’s biggest e-commerce firm, Flipkart. Deliveroo also took investment from Greenoaks Capital, which has interests in one of the world’s most lauded e-commerce businesses, South Korean firm Coupang and Hummingbird Ventures, best known for guiding investments in Turkey and the Middle East.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2uzvz0inxOg

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vN8IV62m6xg

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