So now what? The decision has been made to invest time, money, and sweat into your business, and you don’t even know what you don’t know. The learning curve is huge and never ending.
Katie Richardson of Puj and Andrea Faulkner Williams of Tubby Todd share their experiences about developing their products, finding suppliers, reaching their buyers, marketing, and filling orders. Their challenges and solutions, while unique to them and their products, are also similar to what the other women in the book say about their learning curves—it’s daunting, but also rewarding.
It is October 2007. I am in the kitchen, covered in foam dust and wearing my three-dollar safety glasses. Walker, my firstborn son, has on his favorite striped shirt with a polka-dot bandana over his mouth and nose. He’s wearing my orange-lensed cycling glasses to protect his eyes from all the dust. Truman, my youngest son, is in the back room taking his afternoon nap. Ben, my husband, has on my favorite navy-and-white striped work shirt. He’s wearing the cheap sunglasses we found on the banks of the river as his “safety glasses.” All of us are working hard to make a prototype that looks so good store buyers will want to put it on their store shelves. It’s a long shot, but all of our friends have loved the prototype so much that they don’t want to give it back. I’m calling it the Puj Tub (pronounced pudge, like a pudgy baby). It’s an idea that had been rolling around in my head for some time. Ben and I made the first prototype out of small pieces of paper to see how we could best make a flat object fold to hold volume—that volume being a small baby and some water.
You see, I am now a mother of two, and every time I go to give my babies a bath, it’s such a chore. I know there is a better way. So I sketch out some ideas, make small paper samples, and then order special foam that is used in the medical industry. This foam seems like just the right material for this crazy new baby bathtub idea. It’s soft to the touch, warm, flexible, hypoallergenic, and nonabsorbent. As a trained industrial designer, I approach my own life’s problems as a parent the same way I would for any client. What is the problem, and how can I solve it in a simple and intuitive manner? After pages of sketching and trying different folding configurations, I keep coming back to this simple shape that easily folds into a bowl using what’s called a living hinge. In concept, it’s really no different than a brown paper bag. One piece of material pops open to hold volume then closes flat for storage. It feels so simple and obvious that I can’t believe it’s never been done before. Maybe there’s a reason no one has come up with this yet. Maybe I’m silly for thinking I have a new idea. Maybe it works on paper but not in real life.
Do I really think I can contribute a new and novel product to the world?
I silence the doubtful voices in my head and continue cutting the grooves in the foam with my Dremel. Walker sits on the stool cheering me on as Ben shields his face from all the dust.
This is the second Puj Tub that’s ever been made in the history of the world. The first one was cut out with X-Acto knives on our Christmas break last year. It’s covered with Sharpie lines and rough edges. The closure toggles are made from some wood beads I have leftover from girls’ camp and a stretched-out black hair tie. It’s rough on the eyes, but I am able to prove the concept enough that I start to envision people buying one for their own baby. And now that I have space in a booth at the New York International Gift Fair (its name has since been changed to NY Now), there is hope on the horizon that my wildest dreams of making something and people buying it just may come true.
I finish the Puj Tub version two and immediately call my sales rep. I tell her how beautiful the edges look and how soft and “pudgy” the tub is. She’s thrilled to hear the prototype is finished, because the show is next week. I tell her how excited I am to go to New York for the first time, and I can’t wait to see her at the show. I pack my most designer-looking clothes from my closet of well-worn outfits and kiss my family goodbye as I head off to fulfill my dreams and make the last two years of sacrifice and hardship all worth it. We have been living off of rice and beans, giving every penny we can pinch to the patent attorneys. After all this hard work, I am confident I will come home with more orders than we can fill. Luckily, Ben has found a factory just three hours north that works with this foam, and they think they can produce the tub for us.
After an adventurous cab ride and a bit of walking, I arrive at the Javits Center in Manhattan. Here is where it will all come together. Very early on, I see that my contraption, in a pedestal sink with a baby doll inside, is intriguing store buyers. I brush aside my nerves, stand up tall, and tell them the amazing story of the Puj Tub. The story goes something like this:
I am a mother of two and bathing my babies is difficult. It’s hard to fill up those large plastic bathtubs; I always end up leaning over my bath to fill it, or taking all the bathing supplies into the kitchen and clearing off enough counter space to hold the large piece of plastic. Once I finally get my baby into the bath, he immediately starts crying from the shock of the cold plastic against his skin. The crying doesn’t stop, and due to all the frantic wiggling, he begins sliding around. Now we’re both crying, and I just want the whole experience to end. That’s when a lightbulb went off in my head, and I decided then and there, “There has to be a better way!” Introducing the Puj Tub. It’s the softest, easiest baby bath you’ll ever use. Just simply fold and place in your sink. Fill the tub with lukewarm water and ta-da! Your baby now feels safe, warm, and secure. The Puj Tub cradles your baby as if he’s in your arms. Here, feel how soft it is! And because it’s nonabsorbent, you won’t have any mold or mildew issues. It’s a better bath for baby and for mom. And when you’re done, it hangs flat on the back of your door. See, isn’t that easy?!
This is when I hand them my beautiful line sheet. It’s something my sales rep told me about. The buyer can easily see the product name and a big black box that says, “quantity.” I politely ask how many they want for their store. After a long pause of taking in the whole experience, they begin asking me an arsenal of questions.
“What does the retail package look like?”
“Does it carry insurance?”
“Where is it manufactured?”
“What are your lead times?”
“What are your minimums?”
“How many colors does it come in?”
“What are you doing to advertise this idea?”
“Can I sell it on my website?”
“What age range does this work for?”
“Who is already selling it?”
. . . it feels like the questions won’t stop! I do my best to satisfy the buyers with the most convincing answers I can muster up. They politely tell me, “It’s very interesting! Thank you for sharing it with me. I will hang on to your beautiful line sheet and let you know if I’m interested.”
For four days straight I receive the same response again and again. On my lunch breaks, I text Ben from my Nokia flip phone trying my best to convince him it’s going amazingly well. But deep in my gut, I know that’s not true. He sends me short and sweet texts that give me hope and encouragement so I can keep a smile on my face as I watch my sales rep write orders for other people’s candles and cute knit dolls. But nobody places an order for my Puj Tub.
As I get on the plane and fly back home to Portland, I don’t know how I’m going to face Ben. And what will the boys think of their mother? We’ve poured everything into this idea for the last two years. Everything! The boys are behind on doctor visits, and with two kids in diapers, it feels like my monthly grocery budget of $120 is mostly being thrown in the garbage eight to ten times a day! Where do we go from here? Is this a sign I should give up? No orders . . . not one stinkin’ order!
As I relay the past four days of “she said, then I said” to Ben, he sits there in silence . . . thinking. It doesn’t take him long to begin shaking his head and announcing, “Katie! We’re going to answer all of those questions and simplify the design even more. We’ll buy the insurance, change factories, drop our price, and before you know it, we’ll be shipping these things all over the world!”
It sounds crazy and completely impossible. But with my faint sliver of hope and Ben’s conviction, I agree to press on. After many weeks of late nights working while the boys are asleep, and calling, e-mailing, sourcing, etc., we are finally ready to start our first production run with a real factory in Asia. I can’t believe we’re doing this. I would have said we were all in before, but now there’s no turning back!
I do some research and discover that the baby trade show we need to be at is only a few weeks away. If we hurry and design, make, and ship a trade show booth, we just may make it. The idea for the booth comes to me in the shower. Just like the Puj Tub, I want to build a booth that is simple, clean, inexpensive, packs flat, is easy to set up, and really makes a statement. With white boxes from Uline and glossy white shower board from Home Depot, we build an all-white ten-by-twenty-foot booth in our garage and ship it off to Las Vegas. With the booth shipped off, I stay up late to sew myself a new dress so I can feel my best as I premiere the Puj Tub to the baby world. Buying a new dress just isn’t in the budget.
After missing our flight and finding out that our only product samples are stuck in customs in Kentucky, Ben and I finally arrive to the heat of Vegas. It feels good to be back. Vegas is the place where Ben and I first started hanging out as design students visiting the Consumer Electronics Show. Those were good times. We were so “footloose and fancy-free,” as my dad would say. It’s different now. We have two boys at home depending on us to make this Puj Tub business work. Everything is on the line—everything—especially our financial well-being. The debt just keeps piling up, and we need to start selling product so we can pay it down. Luckily, my friend Dianna volunteers to take a week off of work and come “work” for me for free. She loves talking about my creation, and having her there keeps things lighthearted and fun.
The show starts, and as people begin filing into our beautiful booth, all I can hear is the voice of doubt in my head: “These people can see right through you. They know this whole booth is duct-taped together. It’s so obvious you made this dress from three dollars of gray fabric you found in the clearance section. Those short answers you’re giving them make it so obvious you have no clue what you’re doing. They’re only talking to you because they feel sorry for you. Don’t ask them to place an order; it will just be an awkward rejection.”
Ben pushes his way through the crowded booth and takes me aside. “Hey, where’s Katie?!”
“What do you mean?” I say, hoping he’s not asking what I think he’s asking.
“You’re avoiding talking to people, and don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
As I fight back the tears, I tell him how afraid I am that I’ll say something stupid and ruin the whole thing. “Right now people are loving us! They love the brand, they love the booth, they love the product, and they love us. But they don’t know we maxed out our American Express to get here. They don’t know we can’t fund our first order with the factory. They don’t know I’m just a stay-at-home mom who has no idea what she’s doing. Right now they think it’s all real, and I don’t want to blow our cover.”
“When have you ever met someone that didn’t like you, Katie? You don’t have to pretend you’re someone you’re not. Just be Katie. That’s it. That’s all you have to do. And ask them if they want twenty-five or fifty Puj Tubs for their store!” he says with bright eyes and a big grin.
So I decide to throw all the doubt and fear out of my head and . . . just . . . be . . . Katie. Just like that, I switch my thinking and put a smile on my face.
It’s not long before I’m handwriting my first order. I can’t believe it! After all these years of hard work, people are actually buying this thing I invented called the Puj Tub. The deal table is busy for four days solid! Ben, Dianna, and I are talking to people for four whole days and just about every person places an order—a real order with a credit card and billing address.
Since that week in 2009, my life has forever changed. I am now Katie Richardson, mother of four and founder of Puj. I’m “simplifying parenthood” all over the world. In that first year, we sold over $1,000,000 of Puj Tubs! Think about it: my company went from being nothing to one million dollars in business in just one year. We have been featured on The Rachel Ray Show, The Ellen DeGeneres Show (twice!), The Today Show (three times!), and have become a favorite among celebrities like Mario Lopez, Matt Damon, Tiffany Thiessen, and Martha Stewart. Entrepreneur magazine covered my story and even put my photo on the cover.
We have grown our product line to over twenty products. We occupy a 20,000-square-foot space near Portland, Oregon. I have twelve full-time employees and work with contractors all over the world. Puj is selling in over 2,000 US stores and globally in over twenty-five different countries. We are working with the largest retailers in the world to grow our offering of simple solutions to parents. All of this is above and beyond my dreams of selling a few of my creations to friends.
Because of the success of our business, my dream of traveling internationally with my kids has been fulfilled. On a Friday, we decided to go to Taiwan for thirty days, and by the following Friday, we were on the plane. Life is a constant adventure, and it’s so easy to think, “What if I had given up? What if I had thrown in the towel? What if I’d let all the doubts and fear win?” This girl who likes to make stuff is now a mother of four and an entrepreneur. I’m so glad I kept trying. I’m so glad Ben believed in me. I’m so glad parents all over the globe have a little piece of my heart in their home. I’m making a difference in the world, and it all started with a sketch, a little luck, and a giant leap of faith.
In 2008, I went on a first date that changed everything. Brian (I’ll give it away—he is now my husband!!) picked me up in his Subaru Outback, and as we talked, he told me about his dream to one day own his own company and create meaningful products. Then he dropped the line that sealed the deal: “I think it would be really cool to work with my wife on something—a family business.” Everything felt so comfortable and so right, for I was raised by entrepreneurs who worked together to create products they believed in. I had always admired my parents’ marriage and success. While my friends all loved the idea (and security) of marrying doctors and lawyers, I wanted nothing to do with it. The dream of owning a business with my spouse was what I was looking for. I knew that this outdoor-loving small-town Mormon boy was the one for me.
Brian and I were married later that year, and we set off on a journey to conquer the world and make millions using only our creativity and ingenuity. Turns out it isn’t that easy! We got married in October 2008, the same week of the biggest economic meltdown our generation has ever seen. We lost our jobs, struggled to decide whether we should go back to school, and wondered what professions to pursue while working on our “dream.” Those first few years were really hard. When I think about them now, I just have this mental image of two people with so much energy, running their fastest and hitting a huge brick wall over and over again, each time harder than the time before. We learned a lot about ourselves during those years. We learned that in parenting, in marriage, and in your profession, you have to work hard to make things happen, and we learned that lesson well. In the first five years of marriage, we renovated a home, managed a rental property, had a baby (and a few more day jobs), and explored many, many business options. Are you ready? Here they are: headphones, sweatpants, window washing, tents, backpacks, and T-shirts! Brian even started a little marketing company that I helped manage, where we ran deals for people with products on daily-deal sites. Nothing seemed to stick, and we felt frustrated and lost.
Brian came home from work one day with more pep in his step than I had seen in months. He had an idea: we were going to make baby soap. I said, “Baby soap? Ok . . . Why?”
Brian answered, “Because we have babies, and we can make them the best soap possible.”
“Alright,” I said. “How?!”
Brian had a great understanding of the natural soap market from his day job, and he had been researching new developments in natural manufacturing. “We will call it Tubby Todd,” he told me. “And our mascot will be a moose.”
Here is the background: Brian’s full name is Brian Todd Williams. He was born at a whopping eleven pounds, the biggest baby ever born in the Santa Teresa Hospital in San Jose, California, and the nurses nicknamed him “The Moose.” And then I knew—I knew he was right. So, baby soap it was. And that is how Tubby Todd was born.
So, we will just make baby soap. That’s easy enough . . . right? Well, not really. In that first year we met with formulator after formulator, working to create a product that was completely natural but also enjoyable to use. I wanted to do the right, safe thing and use non-toxic, chemical-free products on my children, but I couldn’t wrap my head around my baby not smelling sweet, and many of the natural products just didn’t have the appeal we needed. By this time we were pregnant with our second child, Walker. When Walker was born, we were almost a year into product development and still felt discouraged and lost. But we also felt adamant that we wouldn’t sell a product as a family until it was something we exclusively used in our home.
Walker’s birth changed things in so many ways. In the first month, I noticed that he didn’t have sweet, smooth newborn skin like my little girl did; he had rough patches and bumps on most of his body and thick, red rashes in the creases of his rolls. I had never had eczema before, so I started to look into it. It is a skin condition that affects about ten to twenty percent of infants and about three percent of adults and children in the United States. For infants, eczema is most common on the back of their knees, necks, and basically anywhere those yummy baby rolls are found.
The concern with eczema is that it irritates your child’s skin, making it itch, and that the rashes will be open to infections. (I have just a small patch on two fingers of my left hand right now, and sometimes it will keep me up at night because it itches so much!) In addition to the eczema, Walker’s skin is just exceptionally sensitive. Acidic fruits leave a rash on his mouth, and scratchy blankets or surfaces leave his legs and arms irritated. I have tried different detergents and clothing material and had him tested for food allergies. In the end, I have found that the determining factors for his sensitivity are the skin products we put on him.
Suddenly our bath product search had a deeper purpose; we needed to find products that worked for our whole family, including our sensitive-skinned little man. Within a few months of his birth, we made contact with a manufacturer who was interested in helping us create the one hundred percent natural, extremely moisturizing product we were looking for. We had narrowed it down to a group of ingredients we felt comfortable with—all-natural products that used essential oils to sweeten and moisturize—and we now had found someone with the capability to produce them.
My sister, Alison (of The Alison Show blog), often says, “Invest in people who invest in you.” Those words have been meaningful to us during our start-up journey. Although you might be blown away to hear it, not everyone was interested in working with a small company that had no current products, no financial backing, and no reputation. Finding manufacturers, printers, and designers who were genuinely thrilled to take us on and invest in our dream was a huge challenge, but it has paid off for all of us.
Almost two years after the day that Brian came home and announced Tubby Todd Bath Co., we put our first products online for sale. We felt confident in the product: it soothed our little guy’s eczema and our whole family was using it. We couldn’t wait to share it! But there was so much we still felt uncertain about. How would we frame the messaging? How would we market it? Would we go after retail? Would Todd the Moose be the voice of the company? (I didn’t want to put my face on the company and, for a few months, fought using my voice in marketing.) We launched on Instagram and started to get some traction. It was thrilling to see orders come in, and I was happy to stay up late packaging and handwriting thank-yous to every customer who ordered.
Growing up, I never made it past the JV tennis team, I couldn’t carry a tune, and I wasn’t quite good enough at following choreographed dance numbers to be on the cheer squad. The good news is that I had lots of time and energy to invest in my entrepreneurial skills. As I mentioned earlier, my parents were both creative entrepreneurs. They didn’t expect us to be high school superstars, but to be life superstars. My mom would always say, “You might not be good at the things that make you stand out in high school, but you will be good at the things that make you stand out in real life.” I know this sounds like something a mom says to her athletically challenged children, but it really meant a lot to me.
It turns out that my lack of “traditional” talents made me develop fierce people skills at a young age, like how to learn everyone’s name in the room and remember details about their lives. I think because I never clung to any one activity, my social life was really important; friendships have always played a huge part in my life.
These friendships and the ability to connect with women have been my most valuable assets for promoting our products.
From a young age, I always had a successful side business with friends. Whether we were selling hemp necklaces at the local coffee shop or holding holiday and summer camps for kids, we always found a way to prey on the resources of our upper-middle-class neighborhood. My parents also had a rule that starting at age sixteen, we always had to have a job. My dad was convinced that the work experience would be far more valuable than any scholastic training. As it turned out, he was right.
I worked in restaurants, in retail, at a museum, and eventually had a more formal office job in marketing. Each job prepared me to run a business, because I had learned how to manage my time, push myself professionally, and tackle uncomfortable challenges.
When I had my first baby, I realized I was not going to enjoy being a mother if all I had to look forward to during naptime was laundry and Netflix. So at two weeks postpartum, I went back to work from home, taking on independent contract work with a marketing company.
I also wrote and published a book in those first two years: Tell Me About It, Sister! A Guide for Returned Sister Missionaries (Cedar Fort Publishing). After serving a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I felt surprised by the difficulty of transitioning home. I loved my missionary service and wanted other returning women to find an easier adjustment, or at least feel supported. Writing and publishing that book was another huge professional push that gave me the confidence that I could do anything—like run a children’s bath company!
There are a million different ways to start and run a business. For us, we have found great success in focusing on sharing our love for what we have created with individuals. These individuals then become ambassadors for our brand in their communities. Building relationships is our single best strength; it’s like all the good parts of high school, minus the mean girls!
Every entrepreneur faces the problem of surviving while building the dream, and this was true of us as well. During this time, Brian had essentially started a different career to be able to support our family. He was working twelve- to fourteen-hour days and had no time to invest in the company that had been, from the start, his idea. I felt really conflicted and didn’t want to do it without him. For a few months, I walked around complaining that he wasn’t able to help, frustrated by the challenge of juggling babies and a growing business. Then one day I was talking to my best girl Elle Rowley (of Solly Baby), and she gave me advice that changed my life. She said, “I think the best thing you can do is not worry about what Brian is doing. You just have to worry about what you can do.” And she was right! It wasn’t like Brian was at home in the middle of the day playing World of Warcraft, neglecting our dream. He was out, working hard so that we could pay our San Diego mortgage and feed our two babies.
That day, I decided to stop complaining and just invest myself in sharing our product with others.
My mom often talks about the days when women strapped their babies on their backs and went out in the field to work on the family farm. So many times throughout our lives, I have watched her step up to work alongside my dad to create a secure and happy environment for our family. I assumed that when I became a mom, there would come a time when I would have to give up my professional dreams for my children. What I didn’t realize was that, sometimes, acting in the best interest of our family does not mean giving it all up, but instead doing more than we ever dreamed, turning our energy and skills in a direction we hadn’t anticipated.
It has been three years since we decided to start Tubby Todd, a little over a year since sales began, and we are thrilled with the response we have received. We have grown from one to seven products, and we no longer ship the products from our home (Hallelujah!) but use a fulfillment center. We have hundreds of families a month who order and love our products and swear by them. We get e-mails filled with Tubby Todd love from people who have replaced all other children’s products in their homes with ours.
The most exciting statistic, for me, is that a good percentage of our orders every single day are repeat customers.
Originally, we never intended to market Tubby Todd as a cure for skin problems, just as something that worked for us in our home. However, over the last fifteen months, we have heard hundreds of stories of families who have found Tubby Todd to be a solution for UTIs, eczema, cradle cap, psoriasis, acne, and so many other skin irritations. This is especially meaningful to us because I know from experience how frustrating it is to spend hundreds of dollars on products that leave you and your child irritated.
We have a combined following of over 30,000 people on our social channels, as well as an additional few thousand on our e-mail newsletter subscription list. We send weekly e-mails that have surprisingly high open rates, which have been a huge boost to our sales and helped grow our brand community. I have made hundreds of new friends—customers, fellow business owners, and online influencers—who have fiercely supported us throughout this first year. Their kindness and support has truly changed me and made me want to encourage and strengthen other families who dream of starting something they believe in.
I’ll be honest, I’m really tired and feel exhausted by the amount of work that lies ahead. I know that I lack many (maybe most?) skills that people need to run a successful company. My ability to do basic math got lost somewhere between sleep deprivation and pregnancy with my children, and I am chronically disorganized. This has proven a challenge when trying to manage inventory for multiple products, each of which has multiple components. However, I have realized that I don’t have to do it all.
I now have an assistant that helps with customer service and the projects that I can’t wrap my brain around, and Brian consults with me weekly on a high level. Not having him involved in the day-to-day operations has been tough, but it also fuels the growth of our business. Brian’s head is clear and free from the emotions involved in the daily grind, which allows him to make incredibly levelheaded assessments about our development and progression. I default to him for all substantial financial and logistical decisions. At the end of every day, I feel like we are really in this thing together—with his career, our company, and our children—and there is no better feeling in the world. Most nights, before I fall asleep, I feel overwhelmed with gratitude that we are finally living our dream.
My hesitation to run the company had everything to do with the concern of neglecting our children. I am now pregnant with our third child and realize, now more than ever, the demands of raising little ones. Every home is different, and how we manage our work–life balance is unique. In our case, my decision to take on the daily operations while Brian works demanding hours means that we have to make sacrifices on many levels. In the last two years, we have taken very few vacations, have rarely seen our friends, and have dropped almost all hobbies. Whenever Brian is not working, he is typically with the kids so that I can work. We have stopped working on home projects, we watch less TV, and we read much less than we wish we could.
The reality is that every family has a certain amount of energy to go around, and between our company, Brian’s career, and our children, we are using all of ours, leaving very little room for anything extra. It is hard. There are days, and even weeks, of discouragement when sales are low or a shipment is late, and I will think, “Why on earth am I doing this?” However, I believe strongly in prayer and meditation, both personally and as a couple, so when those days come, we spend time reevaluating priorities and asking questions about what is right for our family. For now, we keep coming back to our current scenario, and until that answer changes, we will keep pushing forward.
For so many months, I thought of this company as something I was helping with because it was the right long-term solution for our family, and my participation was just a temporary solution. As the company grows, and as time goes on, the more I realize how sincerely happy I am as a working mom. For me, there has been so much joy in the day-to-day grind of making it happen. I feel like we are the luckiest generation of women: we don’t have to make a choice between family and professional life. The Internet has permitted us to build and run small businesses in our homes. There are so many unique situations each family can create.
I think it is really important to be aware of the way a business wears on your family and home life, and it is something I try to be conscious of every single day. When I am not working, I leave my phone in the other room because I have found it is impossible for me to not get distracted by texts, e-mails, and (the hardest of all!) Instagram while playing LEGOs or reading bedtime stories.
We have set huge goals for our growing company over the next year. We have multiple products in development, we plan to bring on a few new employees, and most importantly, we want to increase the ease of getting Tubby Todd products into your home. All of it gets me so excited—I can barely stand it! The first year of operation has given us a better understanding of our message, our mission, and our products. We feel optimistic and excited about the future, and we are really thrilled to be a part of a new generation of business growth—one that is focused on an online community that shares products they love with the people they love. I can’t think of anything more magical.
We always joke that if the bath business doesn’t work out, our friends and family will be getting bath wash for Christmas for the next ten years. But even more than that, we will come away with the confidence that we can make things happen as a family. When I think about that night in the Subaru eight years ago, I always ask myself if I would have changed anything between then and now. While I am not proud of how I have handled every challenge we have faced, I would not change our decision to face those challenges as a family and pursue a dream together.