Manifesto for Slow Business.

For several years now I have been writing a monthly ‘culture’ email newsletter which is sent to about 60,000 people via a number of our other businesses in Wales and Scotland. It offers us an opportunity to recommend things -mainly books and music- with no other agenda than to have a gentle interaction with our supporters and customers.

I keep thinking that maybe we could sell some of the books and records. Not because we would make much/any money from them (margins are tiny, quantities no doubt would be too) but as a service of sorts. But then we have other things to do and don’t get around to it.

Until today.

Today we’re launching Britain’s smallest Books and Record Shop here.

It really is small; today we have 4 records and 13 books. We’ll add more in due course.

It may be small, but it’s really good. I passionately believe that each item offered is an absolute cracker.

You will definitely find these things cheaper elsewhere; in each case we are selling at RRP. But even if you choose not to buy from us, we’ll have entertained you a little and you might choose to have a browse and buy something else from us.

And, excitingly, we have four brand new bandanas today too. Here they are.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about how Gladstone / Hellen is a Slow Business. I don’t mean in terms of ‘business is really slow at the moment’, but rather how we move gently, calmly through what we do. I said in that email that I would write a Slow Business manifesto, which I have now done. So far I’ve written ten guiding principles. Here are the first five. More next week.

Manifesto for Slow Business.

1. Try not to be impatient. Mull it over, digest, revise. Now, this is a struggle for me, and it brings risks, the main of which is simply abandoning ideas if I don’t act on them immediately, because another idea creeps up and ambushes the one before it. Caroline and I have long been powerful advocates of the idea of jumping off the edge and then revising things as we go along. But we’re trying a different approach with Gladstone / Hellen.

2. Iterate. Perfection will get nearer as you sharpen the idea. Take our new jacket. It has taken ages, backwards and forwards and then, when we had the design and fabric right, we struggled to find someone to make in small numbers. But we are nearly there, and it really has been worth it.

3. Not everything has to be Next Day. Send orders to customers when we’ve found time, wrapped them beautifully and dropped them off at the Post Office. Is that okay? We think so.

4. Have relaxed meetings. Meetings get a bad rap, but they are necessary. And they absolutely have to be run properly, with an agenda and follow up notes and all of that. But they don’t have to be rushed, and they don’t have to happen in a formal place like a boardroom. We have ours in our studio, which is super-comfortable, and we try to give ourselves at least two hours every week. G/H is a side-business (not a hobby, you understand) and so finding time is always a challenge. But find it we must.

5. Find the right people to work with. Duh, obvs. But truly, it took me ages to really understand one fundamental truth, which is that you are only as good as the people you surround yourself with. For much of my business life I made the three following mistakes, all made by being in a mad rush.

First, I thought I could do nearly everything myself.

Second, I didn’t really understand how to interview people properly. (This actually makes a whole chapter in my Do Book)

Three, I over-promoted from within.

Finally today, we’ve just published a fascinating essay on the website. This is by loyal friend/supporter Mike Rees and is a reaction to some of my musings on style. Mike was the first person to alert me to Cecil Beaton’s influence on teddy boy style. But here he goes deeper, writing about ‘Beaton, working class elites and middle class mediocrity’. I think it’s brilliant. Let me know what you think, it’s here.