hustler

a great deal has been said and written on the subject of hustling. usually with a #entrepreneur and some faux wisdom like "have a backup plan". much of life is the shit we learned in kindergarten but chose to ignore as we got older.

i think most people would describe themselves as hustlers. enterprising? dunno. go-getter? sure, as long as you can have the weekends off and don't have to be responsible when it all goes to hell. sort of like taking the title of entrepreneur when you've got nothing really riding on the line. in many ways we are all similar, however in the dictionary, just below the enterprising definition, the word prostitute appears. it better defines the job. doing whatever it takes. to sustain often means staying alive to dream another day. we do what we must. what it takes to run a business. completely unvarnished.

we set goals. we all set goals. the bank won't give us a loan unless we cobble together some bullshit business plan that often bears no resemblance to the reality we face. we talk about our goals, trying to convince either ourselves or the listener (probably both) of what lies ahead. little of life ever works out as planned. that's what makes it so wonderful. all the joys we have yet to conceive. if i had a nickel for every time someone told me what they would do "if". how many people actually do what they dream, and if they do, how many still want it soon after?  i recently asked a friend who is considering starting a business, if at the end of the day, all you ever achieve is the day to day of your little business, can that be enough? the question no one ever wants to answer. defeatist propaganda. you have to believe in your goals 100%! (a load of manure). i say you have to actively live within your dream every day and love what you are already doing, otherwise it's a lifetime of buying lottery tickets you'll never win.

80% of small business survive their first year. 66% the second year. 50% the third year. only 30% of all new businesses survive ten years. so the question i would ask: is it worth it? if you're not going to get everything you dream of, is it worth it? for me the answer has been yes.

this october marks the 13th year duross & langel has been in operation. an ever evolving scheme that lets me play out the fantasies within my mind's eye. don't misunderstand. it is hard work. long hours. weeks, months, years. take your eye off the ball for even a short time and you find yourself scrambling to stay in the game. i chose the right profession. i have a good nose for aroma which makes for the most lovely soaps, candles and perfumes. i can also smell a turd from a mile off and sometimes foolishly make the mistake of sharing this observation. people usually love my brutal honesty but have you ever notice that people just love brutal honesty except when it is directed toward them? still, my point of view has served us well, and we can usually catch ourselves when we need a fresh perspective. the part i find most wearing is staff. staff can be a source of joy and pain. they can also profoundly effect the outcome of any day based on their give (or take) of precious energy. keeping all parties enthused by what we do is my hardest job. focusing on what's in front of me from the moment i walk in to the moment i lock the door. then on to the book-keeping or blogging or whatever. is it still worth it? yes. yes it is.

i spend a good portion of my life dreaming. i dream i can grow the business to where it can become a mighty brand. i dream of the salon taking on a life of it's own, paying it's own way and finding a wonderful person who can run it for us. i dream of my staff finding success. of joe grooming's success as a brand, and what might be achieved with future lines based on today's work. i dream of falling in love, traveling the world and reveling in what life has to offer. but if i wasn't already doing all of these things on a cellular level, nothing would ever be possible. i live into my dreams and goals now, in every moment on a micro level. success, in the financial (or traditional) sense, is elusive. most people trade in their dreams for someone else's. when the going get's tough. the tough don't get going. they flee, or whine, or both. for example, take love.

how many people reading this have love goals? who want to be married or have babies or just don't want to go through life alone? whatever your goal for love, you can achieve it but it won't be sustainable without that undefinable something we know as chemistry. what makes anyone think that the rest of life doesn't work the same way? chemistry is why some brands make it while so very many fail. chemistry is what happens when product blends perfectly with marketing in a marketplace ripe for that product. chemistry is what holds people together. what binds the universe. it is the law of nature. however most business majors have been trained for somnambulant corporate culture, and self-styled entrepreneurs have yet to learn that rolling up their sleeves and doing the work will most likely connect them to this phenomenon. so there are people like me who count on chemistry being everything. look at the 50% marriage failure rate, (which does not account for the people who are too scared or lazy to move on with their lives). along the way, every day, we must fight to sustain the dreamer who drives us toward our goals. in all the compartmentalized areas of our lives. personally, socially, politically. by it's very definition, chemistry is about identifying how various matter interacts, combines and changes. it's synonyms are: affinity, attraction, rapport and spark. our physical, mental, emotional and (i believe) spiritual approach to our life and our work defines any attempt at success. anything less is pure dumb luck.

not long ago, a colleague approached me about my life. the jist was something akin to 'don't you think your life is kind of sad and lonely?' the actual delivery was devoid of the brutal honesty i have just distilled. but my answer is no. i am not sad. i am not lonely. though i do experience moments of sadness and loneliness, it is not is binary state within which i live. i've put aside a great many things in the last few years to focus my energy on what's been created. having the guts to lay everything on the line for one's dream is a purely selfish act. jane austin wrote in mansfield park that "selfishness must always be forgiven you know, because there is no hope of a cure". selfishly (of course), i think it profound. why else would i have chosen to work on so many projects at the neglect of say.. a personal life? if only with one's self, chemistry is a powerful thing to have set as your goal. the possibilities for outcomes are endless. 

so i work and i travel and write and play and yes, sometimes i fall in love. with an idea or a concept, an ingredient, or a vision or a plan. and when i am not very careful, i fall in love with the worst possible men. yet still i learn. and i grow. and i dream of the things i'll be doing tomorrow.

not everyone who wanders is lost.

the day is perpetual morning

vision is subjective. it varies depending upon where you stand. i do not believe that one vision is better than another. however i do like to think vision is about fit. what wears best. what you are willing to try on and, depending upon your level of comfort, either own or try on something else. our salon is no different. for two years i have been sitting upon a pre-signed lease that until recently i could not execute. that is how long i have been planning this day. as an impatient and brash younger man, i never could have done this. funny how life leads us where it may. for those who care to read on, i’d like to share a bit of my adventure and how we ended up at this point in our story. when i was young, very young, i liked to create hair styles with my friends (girls) dolls. i did not want to dress them or play act, just groom, cut and style. i did once try to use color but friends don’t look kindly to shoe polished barbie brunettes. i put away these childish things but never lost touch with my inner hairdresser. fast forward through a very long and turbulent post adolescence. if i were allowed a do-over, i would drop out of high school circa 1978, run away to london and become a part of the amazing movement in hair that took place in that era. in short, i would have begun this path earlier. though some people dream of a different life, i dream more of the same. i began my barber/stylist career in a bathroom with a pair of clippers and a six pack of Molson Ale. the results were horrendous but the dye was cast. a few days later i enrolled in cosmetology school. my professional career had begun. i was hired for my first job at the once prestigious John Wanamaker Salon (shabby and fraying at the edges). at that phase of the salon’s lifecycle, it afforded me ample opportunity to practice my craft and pull my personal shit together. then a year at Strawbridge & Clothier (amazing dental benefits..) then down 13th street to a new salon called CUT where i pulled in as many new clients as possible. then a very brief and surreal stint at Invincible. this is when i realized i was responsible for creating my own happiness. ergo, The Atlas Hair Co. my first solo venture. it would be prudent to note at this point that i had been chosen by a new product manufacturer, American Crew, as a local educator. and soon after, a national all-star. my clients never quite understood what i did after closing the salon on Saturday afternoon until opening again Wednesday morning but in laymen’s terms, my teammates and i were making history. American Crew had five products when i began working with the company. i was trained by some of the finest barber/stylist the world has ever known. American Crew broke the boundaries of all previous educational experiences and re-created the market segment for the male client. today, an entire generation of stylist’s work is influenced by the groundbreaking work of American Crew. though i was more of a method workhorse educator, my teammates were brilliant editorialists who could create styles that are still interpreted, reinterpreted, shorn and worn today. in 1999 i tried to do something really stupid. i envisioned the expansion of Atlas while creating the Philadelphia Soap Company. my idea failed for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was my inability to look at the whole picture. i learned a great deal about success through the process of failure. for the record, i define failure as the collapse of an idea or venture and success as the ability to move with time, discern what is good from the lesser, build trust in oneself and then create a life that is not defined by another’s measure of the word success. once i could master this, duross & langel was possible. we closed the salon in 2007 so that we could move the store and expand operations. though i knew my days as a stylist were over, my mentor/educator life just needed an extended vacation. i still teach for Joe Grooming from time to time when not developing new product ideas for the line, but it has become crystal clear where my passions have reignited. welcome to today. in my opinion, nothing worth having is easy. the trick is not getting what you want. it’s still wanting it after you get it. things worth building come with challenges. coming up with money is the easy part. finding someone who can interpret and build your vision, though a bit tougher, is made true by other craftsmen who show up and excel (thank you Matt Bruno). populating the place with like-minded individuals is tougher still. this is where ample patience is needed. patience is a struggle for me (at the moment though, i am breathing through it). what i am attempting to do within this space is very different from what many salons do. i imagine many will think my methods a bit mad. everyone likes to think they know it all. know it best. most days i am no exception. creating a tiered yet democratic salon is tricky. like me, many stylists fresh out of school can’t afford to spend months on end being an assistant. many people like me have to cut. and cut. and cut. and cut. that is how we master. so? make one room a workshop where even the most novice of stylists can hone their craft while making some coin. the price is sweet for the client and the results are still better than the most chainy of the chain salons. for the record, just because a salon is well appointed and the prices keep out riff raff like me does not mean you are getting what you paid for. but i digress. in the salon, stylists will have to set their own prices based on the level of talent and experience they bring to the space. you just want a wash and cut? this much. you want a cut and blow out? this much. color too? you get the idea. it’s not a new one. just an idea that need to be reclaimed and repurposed. i’ve been told it’s not going to work. but i was told no one would come to my store to purchase hand made natural bath and skin care either. this is happening. you can find me filed somewhere between anxious and elated. Thoreau once wrote to one whose elastic and vigorous thoughts keep pace with the sun, the day is a perpetual morning. It matters not the labors and attitudes of men, morning is when I am awake and there is dawn in me. there is dawn in us all. come join us in the adventure. steve duross

individualism – an open letter to my team

It is easy for any one of us to stand before a mirror, all alone, and find fault. For the vast majority of us, it is a part of the human condition. Given the opportunity to change something, what would it be? We each have a varied list. Finding the things we love, the things we readily accept, well... that is a bit more difficult.

A visit to any salon brings hope that we will find our best selves reflected back in the mirror. The desire to improve upon what already exists. It's a tall order for any stylist, but so many do it daily with grace and style. In Philadelphia alone there are any number of good salons with amazingly talented stylists. As a boy, I loathed going to the barbershop almost as much as I did the dentist. My experiences with the unisex salons of the 70's were  just as disappointing.  I never found my best self reflected back. Often the person who emerged from the salon was still a skinny awkward lad with a haircut that was kind of sad. That my ears stuck out too far or my nose was too big didn't help. No matter where I went or what I did... mousse, blowdryer, gel, spray, I was never going to look like the hero of Saturday Night Fever, and my low self image was not going to be changed by a haircut. Though I have come to believe that perhaps a great haircut is where it all begins.

Once I found a great barber/stylist who did amazing work, I began to see a better self reflected. As I matured, I found clothes that fit, made peace with my ears, grew into my nose and took some exercise. I still have low self image days but I recognize the transformative power of the cut. I've bet my entire future on it. Why? Because the line between good and amazing is razor thin. Learning how to replicate a haircut versus learning the principles of proper hair cutting design approach is the difference between plucking out heart and soul on a piano and playing Free Jazz and the Avant-Garde. The great jazz musician Charlie Parker once said it this way "You've got to learn your instrument. Then, you practice, practice, practice. And then, when you finally get up there on the bandstand, forget all that and just wail."

As a teacher and manager, I know can be a difficult task master. I test the limits of what you know, what you think you know and what you strive to become. I've created an experience to give clients that is not always your favorite way to operate. So let me break it down as I see it: When you first came to me, I warned you that it was going to be a bumpy ride. I instructed you to learn all of your tools, study theory design specific approach, understand the fundamentals of why you are doing all the things you will do. I stress to every student that simply learning how to do the latest "cut or style" isn't going to get you any further than the length of that trend. Once any talented stylist can master the fundamentals of design approach, anything is possible (for the record.. you are all very talented). I know that once behind the chair, paying the rent, paying student loans, trying to carve out a life, have relationships, the fundamentals can be easily muscled out. And everyone knows my feeling about finishing with a good blow-dry not being a worthy endeavor unless the same results will be achieved easily by the client at home (with the exception of an actual scheduled and charged blow out).

Another salon owner once told me he thought our place was a mix of salon "X" and salon "Y". It was meant as a compliment but I thought to myself "jeez, I hope not". The vision was never to make us any one thing. Individualism, technical ability and artistry is the vision. Over all. That being said, someone still has to worry about keeping a roof over our heads. That is where my crazy takes over. Nothing is possible if we don't respect the bottom line. I wish I were a more patient man. Someone once suggested I pray for patience but I found the universe just created more opportunities for me to practice patience so.. I've come to realize that I will not be the most beloved man in town, and though I am no Scrooge, I am no Fezziwig either. Knowing myself enough to know that some things are innate often helps to soften the cudgel with which I punish myself. Less rigidity equals less strife. I work each day to be less rigid. Not everyone is going to get me. Not everyone is going to want to stay in our house. The goal we share is to strengthen the individual in order to strengthen the entire team. Whatever happens from there is really none of our business. As long as you are trained and continue to do amazing work, most of my job has been accomplished.

A haircut won't change who we are, whether we are getting, giving or teaching, but I do believe it is a place where we can all begin. And in no small measure, because of you and this place, I continue to learn how to love myself.

xoxo. Steve

joy comes in the morning

whenever i need a little inspiration, all i have to do is climb the stairs and slide into my apron, pick up my raw materials and create. the production studio is always good for my soul. on the days i am working behind the chair, detailing a cut, chatting with the guys, it knocks me out. the energy i feel in that moment.. my world becomes about the flow. though i utilize these two worlds as a form of creative expression (and perhaps a bit of escape), in those two places there is a profound connection to the me who exists when i am alone. the best parts of me that don’t have to be censored. the me without limits. this creative self brought me to the projects people now refer to as my “businesses”. that i still have access to simplicity at my core brings me an enormous amount of joy. a fine accomplishment. my personal best.

surprisingly, working on the floor again in the store has re-ignited the fire of my inner entrepreneur. i feel at one with my original intentions. pure possibility. not dissimilar to the feeling of coming home, the shop floor is a place where i know for sure i belong. as i now center myself again in the comfort of what i left behind, i am feeling a sense of satisfaction. the store is just where i left it, eagerly awaiting my return, completely unexpected. buoyed by the fact that the store is the domain of sarah, i feel emboldened to focus on little projects that have been neglected. think of the store as a garden and me a gardener who is back from holiday. it’s all there. with enough love and nurturing attention, it will be dazzling to behold once more.

as we approach the eleventh anniversary of duross & langel on 13th street, i cannot help but look behind me to see how far we’ve come. remembering the eleven years i’ve shared with sarah by my side. my business partner. my work wife. in spite of the fact that we have loved, laugh with and ultimately lost everyone around us, we persist because we are committed to duross & langel as a key element of our lives. we are blessed to be committed to one another as friends. there exists no shade between us. as i sit pecking out this paragraph, she sits across from me silently on her lap top. the day ended thirty-five minutes ago but here we are, in the quiet of the store, doing the things we don’t have the time to do when the doors are unlocked. blissfully alone. together. and tonight i promise myself that whatever the future holds, i will cherish all that has happened, all that we have shared, and honor the choices of a future that has yet to be written.

the development of my skills as a small business person continue. saying goodbye to valued staff. saying hello to new hires. often the beginning is filled with promise. the ending of woe. personally i have reached a point where i no longer feel the need to build a family from my work life. this is, after all, a workplace. that people can come for a time and do their best work while attempting to figure out what comes next should be enough. and for me, now, it is. it takes a fair bit of time to realize the things we need, the things we don’t, and what gets left along the way. whatever remains is meant to be.

tonight i am feeling a great many things. the ground beneath me shifted. but when one considers that life on this planet formed and reformed many times over through the process of shifting, i think that in the grand scheme of things… we’re good. change is life. psalm 30 (my favorite) has been rattling around in my brain all day. anger is but for a moment, favor is for a lifetime. weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes in the morning. and so i close this paragraph knowing that whatever stresses the day might bring, or worries the night may hold, i can always count on the joy that comes as surely as the dawn.

ISBN 2017

This year’s business-building, networking and learning conference took place at the Ritz Carlton, Grande Lakes Orlando. The theme revolved around Building The Ultimate Experience” for our clients, the third pillar to building a successful multi-unit salon and spa company, (the first two foundational steps —Humanology and The Multi-Generational Workplace—were established over the past two conferences). The content dove deeply into the “how” behind creating the experiences that will link salon and spa guests, team members and the community—both locally and the broader salon industry community—with strong and long-lasting bonds.

The keynotes were informative, the panels thought-provoking, and the breakouts were eye opening. The parts I initially thought would be droll, the networking sessions and social events, were nothing short of amazing. The people with whom I met, chatted and traded ideas were inspiring. I had a blast and gained a multitude of perspectives. For the first time in quite a while, I was able to lean into my role as Creative Director and in doing so, a world of possibilities began to open. Salon and spa owners, chain salons, product manufacturers, vendors… the conversations were incredible. Hearing their stories offered me new perspectives and insights, to learn what I did not yet know I was missing. I formed new friendships and connected to opportunities not as yet imagined.

Those who know me know I’m not much for a happy hour. This group certainly knew how to make the most of a creative cocktail party. During the first night’s  scavenger hunt, I meandered with my crew through several properties before finding my way back to the main meet up, and along the way I enjoyed the company of amazingly accomplished individuals. Hearing others tell their stories of struggle and success has helped me to find perspective on what I am attempting to acheive. Multi-unit (and multi-generational) salon owners schooled me in the finer points of trusting and letting go, of embracing all aspects of these last two years getting my newest ventures up and running. On the very first day I found myself paddling down a lazy river past alligators and snakes in peels of laughter with my canoe mate. The uncanny ability I possess for running aground and hitting other enthusiasts must have been unsettling, and though I was looking to land a more dignified impression, I soon caught on to the realness of these folks. Sure, every group has their qualifiers, the people who list their accomplishments and their sales numbers. But the people who impressed me the most, who had the most to teach, who were the most generous with their time and talent didn’t give a flip about that stuff. They gave me something greater to shoot for as an entrepreneur. I am keenly aware that all of life is a series of relationships. The ability to meet one another where we are at any given moment. The opportunities that arrive when we least expect them. And at he heart of the matter there is only so much we can do. Suit up, show up, and simply be yourself.

escape is the only good option

sometimes my life becomes all too much to handle. since i can’t drink and almost never smoke up, i escape to a warm, sunny climate. a bed beside the pool beside the ocean. sleep, eat and read. lucky to have my friends around to talk me through the rougher patches. to get away, if only for two days, is enough to send me back refreshed and renewed. this was a tough year for everyone. so while i lie here and figure out my next move, i am resolved to forge ahead, even if i make everyone crazy in the process.

wiping the slate clean

relationships are hard.  romantic, business, familial, neighborhood, political… doesn’t matter really. we have to work at keeping the mechanics of our relationships lubricated lest they cease up and breakdown. depending upon the type of relationship, the lubrication varies. let our city and our neighborhoods degrade and the end of your political career is nigh. throw late night parties and break the building rules, your neighbors will instigate a process that has you searching for a new home. you get the idea. small things begin at first to grow into much larger issues. when those issues infringe upon the group, then we have a problem. everyone in our lives comes with a certain amount of stuff. how to make everybody’s stuff work together is the charm. but when you find a staff member who pushes up against the norm once too often, you have yourself a scapegoat.

the original context of the term scapegoat was a jewish purification ritual described in the book of leviticus, wherein a goat was symbolically infused with the transgressions of the community and driven into the wilderness. in christian thought, jesus came to be seen as a scapegoat, whose sacrificial death led to the purification of the human community.

the ancient greeks practiced a “scapegoating” rite in which a cripple or beggar or criminal (the pharmakos) was cast out of the community, either in response to a natural disaster (such as a plague, famine or an invasion) or in response to a calendrical crisis (such as the end of the year). building upon these religious foundations, “scapegoat” has become a common term for an individual who is selected to bear blame for a calamity. “scapegoating” is the act of holding a person, group of people, or thing responsible for a multitude of problems.

mobbing is a form of sociological scapegoating which occurs in the workplace. scapegoating is an effective if temporary means of achieving group solidarity, when it cannot be achieved in a more constructive way. it is a turning inward, a diversion of energy away from serving nebulous external purposes toward the deliciously clear, specific goal of ruining a disliked co-worker’s life.

psychoanalytic theory holds that unwanted thoughts and feelings can be unconsciously projected onto another, who then becomes a scapegoat for one’s own problems. if the scapegoating pattern continues into early adulthood, development towards healthy personal identity is likely to be compromised, with a strong likelihood of developing histrionic, compensatory narcissistic, and/or obsessive-compulsive, as well as passive-aggressive traits. such misplaced feelings are also understood to potentially yield severe, ego-protecting “affect management behaviors” including substance and behavioral process disorders. how messed up is that? so if someone’s parent’s got their damage all over them, they in turn can project whatever damage was caused to them on the people in their lives, including the workplace? sometimes i just want my old life back.

forgiveness is an easy virtue, for the majority (we hope) recognize our basic humanity. our flaws. by offering redemption we offer another a chance of wiping the slate clean. it is also an opportunity for self forgiveness.

life is hard. recognizing that as a fact makes life easier to manage. when we step into any relationship with our eyes wide open, when our expectations are right-sized, it becomes easier to manage the diverse relationships our lives proffer. hiring and managing employees is the nexus of this idea, for more often than not, we won’t see what’s really going on for some time to come. by then the dysfunctional processes are well under way.

i am not a psychoanalyst, nor would i want that job. figuring people’s motives is far above my ability or pay grade. but i am no saint either. my baggage is plentiful. a lifetime of sinning has taught me a great deal about forgiveness. fyi: for those who do not already know, the root of the word sin is taken from a term in archery. to sin or syn is to be in error. to miss the mark. for me, the whole of my life is the act of learning from all moments equally, whether spot on or missing the mark. to be blissfully and blessedly human. i firmly believe that my ability to be flawed is one of the traits that make me an effective leader.

as business owners we have to be mindful that we don’t allow ourselves to scapegoat, and that we don’t allow it to happen to our people. everyone is coming onboard with stuff. everyone has tendencies that drive us to distraction. i was reminded of this lesson quite recently. instead of loading the board further with a list of grievances, i chose to wipe the slate clean. the best and brightest often upset the status quo. it is our job to make it all work anyway.

miami beach reboot

having built and formulated a spa line, it seems only natural to be thinking about the spa experience. would i someday want to open a spa? what constitutes a great spa? the vibe? the treatments? the location? heading down to miami to cash in reward points at a sweet resort was step one in this late winter adventure.

like many northerners, i hit a point each winter when i can no longer cope with the weather. my cut-off point is somewhere between the first and last day of april, when i become desperate for sun and sand. if nothing else, this yearly trip allows me to dream about a warm sunny climate while slogging through the post-holiday season. the holidays for our team is a three month ramp up, a four week sales frenzy and a two month replenishment/recovery. we all desperately need a break. this year’s trip was extra special in that i made it all about the spa experience.

the package i chose to experience was called “the miami reboot”. it begins with a hot steam followed by a lie down in the relaxation room where you can read a book or just unwind. everything about this part of the spa was stellar. i then went into a room where i was scrubbed with french green clay then packed in mud, which was then baked on until i was as stiff as a brick. very odd. good. but having been helped naked into a hot, dark shower by a stranger is a little weird. the scalp and neck massage was nice, and the paraffin treatment always feels good. the massage therapist’s reflexology abilities were amazing. at one point i think i floated out of my body. then the full body massage kicked me right over the moon. i was wasted and jelly by the time it was complete.

having spent a few dollars to get spa access each day was worth the money. when i could no longer take the sound of helicopter parenting from poolside, i would slip away to this cool, quiet world for a few hours and enjoy the serenity. being up and at the pool or beach each morning by 8am, the mid-afternoon break away from the harsh sun is a good thing. i could easily get used to someone quietly waking me after a nap every day with a pot of tea.

i’ve been to many places and experienced quiet a few spas but nothing yet compared to the vibe of this place. treatments fall in and out of fashion (this place had an oxygen bar where you could breathe and pay by the minute) so for me it becomes less about what was being offered as much as what would i want my spa to be?

about a year ago we spoke with representatives of the loews hotel in philadelphia about their spa. i’ve been using the gym/spa for more than ten years. i won’t bore you with my thoughts about what they do right or wrong, so much as state that i know for certain that i want to create my next venture within a fine, luxury brand hotel. it never worked out with the loews. we had different goals for the space.

if you have the chance to experience the miami beach edition hotel, by all means, do. the pools were wonderful. the private beach divine. the service staff responded to warm and gracious treatment in-kind.

you can check out my full review of the miami beach edition hotel here on trip advisor

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pass/fail

fashion is subjective. often a pass/fail attempt. style depends upon who is standing in judgement. for the record, i care little what others think about my fashion choices, though i welcome feedback when my fashion skews off the mark. was that tie too much? was the shirt too much? was the tie and the shirt too much. yes, i trend toward “too much” though in reality am often left wanting in the meh column. no matter. it is an outfit, not a way of life. unless, of course, it is an every day occurrence. then we are talking about personal style and i judge.

you know the anachronistic term “that is so gay”? sometimes i feel as though it was coined for me. whether nattily dressed in my gray flannel eton short pants suit at age four to my latest attempt to use a wide cravat as a tie, i skirt the boundaries of being too much in all things related to fashion, style and demeanor. watching myself on a morning show is both amusing and excruciating. since i am obviously too much all by myself, my attempt to dress down without blending into the woodwork does not always work. in reality, i worry less about the judgements of others than of casting aspersions upon myself. where others can be demoralizing, i am downright brutal. we all judge ourselves the most harshly. quite often people of a certain age find a look that clicked at some point and then stick to it like glue. ‘this works for me’ is a notion both hilarious and misguided. looking one’s best at every age in an evolving style is, i believe, the best way forward. getting older without looking old (or trying to look and dress far younger than our age) is where we generally find succor. parenthetically, i could tangent on about the aftermath of injection fillers. they leave you looking alien.

here are the duross & langel products i use and why i’ve created them to be AGELESS:

dermabrasion cream – used twice weekly it diminishes my fine lines and wrinkles (not the caverns), smoothes away imperfections, forces firmer, younger skin to the surface and gives me a healthy glow. a few minutes every week to stay firm is worth a million dollars (though my cream costs you pennies..). at my age and weight you must take care that the skin doesn’t slide off the bone like a well cooked chicken.

CoQ10 moisturizer – been testing it for months and am finally ready to put it out on the floor. this cream is a bit more expensive because it costs a good deal more to produce plus CoQ10 needs to be maintained in an airless container. here’s the thing: i love the sun. almost to the point of worship. my skin was beginning to show visible signs of advanced aging. now i look refreshed, my skin is tighter and softer to the touch.

firming eye gel – every day whether i need it or not (and i always do). with eye bright, elastin and marine collagen, this stuff cooks the books where my tired eyes are concerned. though nothing can ever make me as young as i once was, this is the best natural way to stay as firm as possible. use it every day.

shine shampoo – alright boys and girls, this is where many of you will part company with my way of thinking. i’ve been doing hair for decades. i love color. for fun. if your stylist has convinced you to banish your gray by coloring it over, shame on them. time to find a new stylist. color is meant to enhance. quite often a light color wash or low lighting of gray/white can be a wonderful way to enhance your natural look. as we get older, not only does our hair lose it’s pigment, so does our skin. that would be why the old brunet you see on the street looks like she died 20 minutes ago and forgot to lie down. we men are no different. watch any sunday morning talk show or sunday afternoon sports. thanks to hi-def, guys who completely color away the gray look uglier by the minute. of course you don’t need to go au natural like me. even the crypt keeper yearns to wash away the signs of time. i am far too lazy to keep up that rouse which is why i enhance the silver streaks with a shampoo that sparkles. perhaps in a year or two i will be using a shampoo we will call RAVEN that will diminish the whiteness of the gray and ever so subtly darken.

night eye cream – if i remember to use it… i awaken looking refreshed. the area around the eyes is the first to give away our age. rubbing makes things worse. gently pat a bit of this cream around your eyes to moisturize, lighten and brighten.

underneath it all, i feel good. though i cannot state that i often choose the best look for my style, i do feel confident when standing naked (alone) in front of the mirror. so that is something. when it is all stripped away, how we feel about ourselves is ultimately what will determine pass/fail.

if your mom were sixteen

think of your mother and your mind conjures a million images. how we choose to think of her has a great deal to with maternal friction. the one who installs the buttons most often pushes them. after all, they are our mothers. this bathing beauty circa 1946 is my mom, dolores henderson duross at the jersey shore. you just know she was a heartbreaker.

who were the girls at sixteen that were to become our mothers? how changed would they have been by a world steeped in social media? and what kind of media would be left behind once they are gone? time will certainly tell as an entire generation of moms-to-be take on the role with years of videos, pic and selfies forever available on the internet. who we become is often colored by how we are remembered. i hope the next generation has a great sense of humor ’cause the jig is up. luckily i have this treasured pic as a window to my mother’s youth.

this year i’m choosing to remember my mother in a very personal and powerful way. i can only hope that she would approve. in as much as i only allow myself about one day a year to really feel the pain of my loss, i carry her with me every day. i miss her love and pride. i mourn the woman i knew and the girl i could never know. anyone who has had a powerful loss thinks the same thing: if only i could have just ten minutes more…

a little over fifty years ago my family legally adopted me. they made me an equal partner in the unit with a favored place as the “baby” of the family. there are moments when my older siblings still think they know better because they are older, but that is another blog entirely. the tale i tell is about the journey from discovery to attempting to uncover what i can of my past. i continually look for opportunity to honor my parents, my family’s contribution really, and to touch a part of myself that i don’t often choose to view. while alive, i honored my mother’s request by not looking for answers about my origins. it worried her so that i did not wish to cause her any pain. in many ways i belonged to her and her alone.

a few years ago i received a phone call from my birth mother. it could not have come at a worse time. i was in the middle of sorting a painful end to my marriage, and as it should happen, my birth mother had just buried the love of her life. certainly not an auspicious beginning. once the holidays were over and i had time to gather my thoughts, i met her in san francisco for one day. perhaps i was being selfish. it wasn’t much time for anything, but the whole thing gave me an enormous feeling of discomfort that i gave what little i could.

up to the time i became involved in my work, i looked for myself in another person. a mirror image that so many siblings had the good fortune to share. i belong with you because we are alike. that has never been my experience. to most observers, it’s immediately obvious that i look different than my siblings. though my sister and two brothers never made feel as though i was different, my imagination was bound to this idea of sameness by naturally curiosity. at some point in my adolescence, i discovered i had a biological brother. at a time in our lives when many of us begin to feel different or outside the norm, this piece of news offered me the possibility of that oneness. there was no where to go with this hope. it was the seventies. the idea of openness did not exist in the world of adoption. the nuns guarded the secrets of my birth as closely as they guarded their virtue. they were rather mean about it as well.

finally the day arrived when i would meet the woman who gave me life. we spoke a few times on the phone prior to meeting. small conversations where i listened to her speak about her life and the man she had loved. i quickly disassociated from the whole experience, as if this were happening to someone else. it felt somehow a betrayal of the woman i loved. the one who raised me. intellectually i understood that one had nothing to do with the other, but feelings are what they are, and as history continues to prove, something as realistic and tangible as facts cannot dissuade people from following their feelings. we met in the elevator lobby outside my suite. immediately i saw what i thought had wanted all my life. a mirrored image. though she was an older, female version of me. not quite the romanticized fraternal link i once imagined, and now when i look in the mirror at my reflection, there is something more there than what used to be. once done it cannot be undone. we embraced and quickly got to work examining the span of forty-eight years. as skillfully as a prosecutor, i began to litigate the facts of my biological history. where was i born? who was my father? how did it happen? what family medical history could she offer? tangentially, imagine not filling out five of the six forms of medical information you need to for everything in life. i knew nothing. even on my quietest days i can be a bit much. the ton of information i was essentially demanding could have stunned a team of oxen. but fear not. we are both products of our environment as well as what nature has imbued through the DNA. this little lady could hold her own with me. she had her own agenda for our visit. it was altogether inconsistent to my own. while i sought a specific factual, almost clinical line of questioning surrounding the pronoun what, she wanted to explain why.

in the end, i could not get the answers i was seeking, and i could only offer her the redemption of the choice she had regretted her entire life. the sadness i initially felt remained for a while in the background of my psyche, though i am no longer plagued by the little niggling things that i once felt were left undone. a conversation with becky fawcett, founder of helpusadopt.org has brought me to the jarring realization that most of today’s adopted kids have access and/or relationships to their birth mother. the sense of wonder, regret and sadness is softened (if not eliminated) by the child’s ability to construct an entire picture. why as an adult would i deny myself this opportunity? because i closed the door on it a long time ago. i am at peace with my past. whatever occurred, it’s led me to today, and to a family i love. learning that i biologically have two brothers and a sister reminds me that for better or worse, biology doesn’t mean diddly. i was raised by two brothers and a sister, and with all things being equal at the blackjack table of families, i’ll stick. i’m good.

every year since my mom died, mother’s day has only been about baskets and little gift boxes and wonderful things tied up with ribbon. hopefully you can make your mom smile with some of my soap and plenty of your love. i work to make it special because i know how much those little pleasures meant to my mom. this year will be no different. so when you see your mom, please hold her like you will never let her go. hug tightly to that sixteen year old girl who left many of her dreams along the journey to becoming your mother, and don’t forget to thank her for every sacrifice. after all, we would be nothing without her.

don't make me uncle buck

years ago my sister-in-law had an old uncle named buck who showed up for every family event. he was a nice old guy, but for me personally, not relatable. buck and i had nothing in common. though he always made attempts at conversation, with me it stalled after two minutes. he sat at the end of the sofa watching the game with the other guys. i don't even know if buck liked sports. i saw uncle buck as a part of the family holiday tableau. so if we were posing the last supper, buck would have been way down on the end with the lesser apostles. pretty much where i find myself now.

i choose my work as my life. anyone who knows me understands that i have no desire for this to change. it won't be separated out. my first husband would testify to this. though his name was on the door, he loathed talking shop. it bored him. i bored him. we didn't share those fundamental things in common that healthy relationships run on. but i make no apologies for my choices. this is the life i made for myself. it's what makes me happy. more often than not, when i begin droning on about work, i make an attempt to catch myself and ask if i am boring the listener. if the listener isn't saying "yes, your shop talk is boring me" than oh well. it's not dissimilar to most people who talk about their kids, or their house.. so my stuff may not be as relatable to some (shrug) but that's life.

i am as enchanted by my businesses as most people are about their kids. a swirl of the ordinary and extraordinary fills my day. it is rare to find good people who connect to this kind of daily life in a shared way but i am most fortunate in finding several. people who make me laugh and don't take themselves too seriously. who understand we are all in the same little boat. as with any business, there are always going to be outliers. people who come and go. nobody ever gets everything they want. though i am not the center of anyone's universe, i have the good fortune to live out loud in a universe of my making, doing my thing every day. others may benefit from this process, add to the final product. but ultimately, like most people, i strive to please myself. everyone, to some extent, is selfish. almost no-one likes to admit it.

and therein lies the rub.

though i love my kin, we don't always relate. i'm lousy with chatty conversation on the phone. it can often take on a round-robin bitch-fest tone and i am the worst offender so i don't look for reasons to call. family dinners, parties and random gatherings can be, for me, an emotional minefield that brings out either my best or worst. i never know until immersed what the occasion will offer. my nephew is getting married in two weeks so right about now, my anxiety begins to swell. for example: someone told me that my sister wasn't invited to the wedding, which is totally odd because why wouldn't she be? that is just absurd. there must have been some kind of mistake. a screw-up of sorts. my sister, god knows why, didn't ask if there was a reason she didn't receive an invitation. if you follow reason far enough it always leads to conclusions that are contrary to reason. anyway... i took the bait and i texted my brother to let him know that my sister didn't receive her invitation, could it have possibly been lost? getting involved as a fourth party from a piece of information given by a third party about a second party who wouldn't communicate to the first party was my original mistake. using reason in this situation was my second mistake. the stream of snark in the reply was expected. rather than a heads-up about someone not receiving an invitation and having their feelings hurt, it became about my meddlesome nature. how i was creating problems. causing unnecessary fuss. i guess i should begin heading down to the end of the table next to andrew or thomas. and i ask myself "is this how i show up?" my take-away is twofold: at the very least, my original assumption leaned toward seeing the best in all the parties involved so i'm not a complete goon, but even at the age of fifty-four, i'm still dumb enough to take the bait.

the road less traveled is contrary to the path of least resistance. most of us enjoy believing we are one thing when quite often we show up as another. since fatherhood has never really been an option, i created an alternate universe to fit my personal narrative. though we may feel the love of many, for those of us on the road less traveled, we often walk alone.

recently i wrote an article on my spa adventure in miami beach. i took lots of pictures and wrote glowing reviews. what trip advisor refers to as a "solo" trip, i am becoming quite the solo traveler. how delicious it can be to spend a few days alone by the pool reading book without distraction. no obligations. no agendas. just burgers, fries and ice-cream sandwiches. no matter what it looked like on social media, there was nothing fabulous about the experience except the experience itself. for me, being blissfully alone with beautiful surroundings for a few days is all i ever need to send me happily back home. i travel not simply for escape but for inspiration, new surroundings, cultural shift and proportion. to escape being plain old me with all my definitions and titles and responsibilities is to be free. when i am away, what i do in normal life does not matter. it is not a topic of my conversations. all definitions have no bearing. alone, i am enough.

of course i continue to want relationships with my entire family, but at some point we need to ask ourselves "how much is anyone really going to change"? my mom used to say that i was the truth teller in the family. she said it in a droll tone that went with a particularly dour expression on her face. in reality, i think my mom was the only person in our family who recognized what life might feel like from my perspective. i miss the special place she carved out for me within our family. only time will tell how things shake out. though we are all busier than ever, i am confident my prospects are very good. i will continue to encourage my family to stay engaged in my day-to-day life as it unfolds. my hope is that they will join me in my universe from time to time, put on an aprons and roll up their sleeves. it is the only way, i believe connections truly hold. to embrace the things we can experience together. it's how my nieces and nephews came to know me growing up. it is how i hope their children will come to know me as well. and of course i will continue to take my place at the table for births, deaths, christenings, weddings and the odd holiday. that's a given. contributing in a meaningful way is the riddle i attempt to solve.

staying home and raising children

having been a child of the 60s, i remember hats, gloves, manners, the violence of assassination, the summer of love and a vision of the sexes being very, very different. i also remember how my mother was in the home raising us. my childhood was fairly unremarkable and carefree until the social (and emotional) upheaval that came with my mom getting a job. the world was changing and everything was up for debate. betty friedan and gloria steinem preached an ideology that women could have it all. a career, a family and everything she ever wanted. as a child of this revolution, i can tell you that that was some bullshit. ultimately something suffers. you simply cannot give 100% to a spouse, a family and a career. that is just not possible.

in 1968, as i entered first grade, with a sister 10 years my senior to watch over me after school, my mother entered the work force full time. like many other women, she only made 58.2 cents to every dollar made by a man. still, our lives improved with her earnings. she created opportunity for our family. she did this because it was her right, and her choice. not due to a feministic ideology. don’t misunderstand me. dolores duross was a feminist of the most propitious sort. the kind who lived her truth based on the best possible outcome. what she needed to do for herself was beneficial to the entire family, and ultimately to society. her choice about how far she wished to go in her career, how much she needed to give to her marriage and what nurturing vs. freedom she would manage with her kids were choices she unapologetically called her own. that included her bouffant hair, her love of dresses and her choice of hot red lipstick.

an axiom of duross & langel is that every person has the freewill to choose the life they desire. without regard to the business’ self interest, we believe that every woman is equal to every man. therefore everyone has equal earning ability. in the 2017 u.s. workforce, women are still only paid, on average, 80 cents to the dollar. not in our house. work full or part-time, have kids, raise a family, whatever. we see the interest of the business as being best served by individuals who can balance their lives. pay is based on merit.

today kenzie introduced me to her daughter regan. a beautiful, ginger-haired baby girl who’s mommy wants to devote her full time and energy into being a mom. a luxury for some. a necessity for others. next week it will be two years since i sat down for an interview and hired kenzie as our first stylist. it wasn’t long before i realized she wanted to be a mom. a bit longer still to realize the implications of that choice. though we will miss having her in the house each day, we are happy that she will be back a day or so a week to share our lives. that she chooses to be a stay-at-home mom is to be celebrated. the first four years of my life with my mom at home were some of the happiest memories of my childhood.

there has been a great deal of celebration of women in the past few months. marches, women’s day celebrations, and endless social media posts about one’s wonderful wife, mother and/or grandmother. all well and good, but this particular road to hell currently being paved will begin to sink like the ground above permafrost. posting about grandma on Facebook doesn’t move the needle folks. marching with signs and shouting out your anger can only go so far.

freedom is about choices. more than the ideals we espouse, freedom is a fight. a difficult, inconvenient beast we have to get-in-front-of even when it’s going to bite us in the ass. freedom is much more than a silly social media post. to achieve any real progress, action is required. why would any man work for a company that thinks his mother, wife or daughter deserves less? freedom requires everyone doing somethingabout the inherent unfairness toward the value society places on a woman’s contribution. until everyone experiences the equality that is borne of freedom, we are all enslaved.

regan, like our mothers, wives and daughters, deserves the opportunity to experience a world where she is treated equally regardless of her gender, and where her wages are based on merit. i put my money where my mouth is.

exceptionalism

on any given day, it is easy to get lost in the details. informative moments pass at the speed of light, perspectives shift; everything flows from one day to the next until we find ourselves far from where we began. as ideas blossom they die and then resurrect themselves again enfolded into new ideals. promising careers begin and end and become new again, forged in the fire of dissolution and disappointment. though the beginning of any idea feels promising, in the reckoning, little appears as it once was. no one sets out for their life to become a grind to pay rent, pay loans, to keep up and be relevant. easily forgotten is the intention many of us held to be exceptional. once that goal becomes unfocused, it can be confounding, frustrating, and even maddening. when we fix our ideals on the things we intend to exude, create, design, produce or craft, we have a solid goal that can be set. something we can make truly exceptional. quite often however, one's attitude toward tasks, co-workers and/or management can diminish exceptionalism to the point where it becomes meaningless. then attitude is everything.

it has been said that there is nothing new under the sun. based solely on my own experience i'd have to agree that the statement is about 98% true. fifty-four revolutions around the sun teaches a person that what goes around, comes around with very few exceptions. something i did not care to grasp at twenty-four revolutions. back then i was the king of the world, the master of my fate. i could pick up and go to the next adventure with barely a moment's notice. i was a person who got by by the skin of his teeth. yet whatever i attempted was always focused on the goal of being the best. though attaining the goal was not always possible, it was well worth the reach exceeding the grasp. this history, my old life, profoundly informs my current life as an owner/manager. it is easier for me to be forgiving of the minor, petty annoyances.. but where exceptionalism is concerned? i have no mercy.

my heart sings on the side of a rocky cliff 300 meters off the ground. in that moment i grasp. for the place my hand or foot will take hold. for my momentary point of view. for my focus, my goal, my need for survival and my need to thrive. i grasp. standing behind the chair cutting hair, creating an educational plan, building marketing projects, fulfilling customer service, formulating, it is all like climbing rock. grasping. going toward my goal. it is exceptionally thrilling as each moment means change. adaptation. growth. though i often drive the people around me to distraction with my need to fine tune, this is how our success, thus far, has been possible. for those who cannot grasp with me, who cannot adapt to the prevailing culture, who cannot reach for the exceptional with me will eventually be moved on. anything less is just dysfunctional.

i have loved very few people in my life. truly. most of the family i have. the family i have built. a few true friends are all i desire. i have selfishly poured my heart and soul into myself and my life. into my childish, childhood dreams and for the most part, i do as i please. because i have chosen my core team wisely, together we do the job exceptionally. show the client a pleasant experience. be sure that the formulations exceed expectations. focus less on the margins and keep the price point attainable. structure the whole thing so that there is something for everyone (some say we are pricy, i say whatever). i do not want, cannot find nor will i retain exceptional people unless they are paid exceptionally. so thanks to the prevailing tax structures, i will never ever be rich. but my life will be filled with wonderful people and exceptional moments. otherwise i'd chuck the lot and move on.

though most of my peers disparage the up-coming generation, i don't feel any disappointment toward millennials. i imagine that they are our best and brightest hope of fixing the miasma my boomer generation has created. but in some ways, i feel as though millennials are not so different from me. for them, just one idea will never do. they want it all. and so they should. not all are willing to grasp though. some, like in every generation, will settle fast (or worse) look to others to fix their mess. we all create messes but most of us clean them up. and we can choose not to fix the mess others make. but in the end my focus is on those who can make the most difference, who refuse to accept the status quo, who will not allow themselves or their surroundings to be defined by the negative voices.. this too is where my heart sings.

i see the exceptional every day, and it is worth putting my back into raising up opportunity for these individuals. understanding all of what they desire isn't required. it is enough that they grasp their own sense of worth, the opportunity they are being given, and that they continue to reach for lives that are exceptional. not for me mind you, but for themselves. fostering these values is reason enough for me to continue grasping, and to keep reaching for the next exceptional possibility. and just maybe they will change the world

family stuff

daunting. that would be my best approximation of the holiday season. as with any retail business, if you’re doing your job, things get hectic. producing the product only serves to enhance the frantic nature of the experience. whatever one might think of the holiday season, it gives us a chance to catch up. an opportunity for which we are truly grateful.

i read somewhere that expectations only lead to resentment. that’s pretty glass half empty but often accurate. i create large expectations. within the brand. within our staff. within my family. i create large expectations within myself. at times this leads me to resentment. i know it does with some of the people around me. it simply cannot be helped. a by-product of demanding greatness. i sometimes wonder what my world would be like if i only cared about the bottom line. i guess we will never know.

recently i was chatting with my sister. a pas de deux of unsaid things that only siblings can deftly accomplish. as she danced around the idea of how her growing family (marriages, grandchildren, etc.) meant that everyone should curb their expectations about gathering the original core family at the holidays, i perfectly mirrored these sentiments until i swayed in the direction that this new paradigm left me free to pursue my own… how annoying. never wanting to lapse into the assumed role of odd-uncle-in-the-corner, i choose, as ever, to simply be free to do as i please. with age comes the realization that i don’t wish to be undefined. or worse, allow anyone else to define me. i fit into various tribes, but not easily. i like to believe that with our business, having the profound opportunity to know so many people in an intimate way gives me license to show up in the world the way that i do. most likely not but a guy can still dream.

recently i have been mourning the loss of a friend. something i feel more keenly than i would have expected. the thing is, i am standing in this moment trying to make sense of what’s left and the world around me keeps moving as if nothing has occurred. sarah stays in the moment with me. silently strong. reminding me that whatever i am feeling is natural. with sarah i am never alone.

2016 is a year on which i will not look back upon with undiluted pleasure. a year that proved my spine is made of steel (some will say my heart too but that will be proven an unworthy epithet in the years to come). i learned that i can bend in gale force winds that blow unmercifully without breaking, that possessions rarely matter, that the only love worth giving is without expectation and that resentment belongs to those who simply cannot meet the measure. i learned that politics is rhetoric, that rhetoric is stupid and that pragmatism is my only way forward. i learned that to dream is not enough. a plan is required. i am still figuring that out. finding my place is a part of my journey. as long as i have my strength and my health, anything is possible for the future

once again finding my voice

changing your life doesn't begin with a wish or a dream. it begins with the choices you make. almost two years ago i upended our entire work life to create some things that had yet to exist. what a pain in the ass that turned out to be.

once upon a time.. i started out with nothing. then i made something really wonderful. then something else. soon after, things went a wee bit haywire but we pulled it together, and now we are marching on. in the reckoning of the last few years some people got left behind. some stayed. i've spent months soul searching for answers, trying to figure out what it was that i did to make things turn out the way they did. and then one day i woke up, said f#ck that shit and put it all behind me. what works works. what doesn't has to change. it's a fundamental principle of running a small business. and so we must all move on.

in this blog i have previously defined my idea of success. not all of the people with whom i work share my point of view. but the people with whom i partner must. recently sarah read a book on the boys of '36. she shared the story of the rowing team who beat all odds to win the olympic gold in berlin 1936. the team rowed in sync. period. they didn't piss and moan about the way the cox was calling the stroke. they weren't little bitches because the man setting the rhythm was not doing it right. he did his job the way he knew and in the end, it was perfection. what all winners know for sure is that when the moment presents itself, you pull out the stops and go full force regardless of the consequences. deciding is freedom. indecision is torture.

i recently heard very sad news floating around about two business partners (who are also life partners) and how their personal lives are falling apart. i know how difficult it can be to sustain a relationship when business partners are romantic partners. or in my case, ex-romantic partners. in almost every situation, without fail, the brokered "friendship" falls apart and they truly part. depending upon who is telling the story, it comes out with various riffs on a theme. i could tell you such a story about duross & langel. but i won't. because whenever a friendship dies, it's just plain sad.

speaking of duross & langel (the store, not the people), our world is an ever changing landscape. the last few years have left us panting, and while we forgot for a little bit why we were involved in the work we do. the drama within the house took up so much of the energy. drama with production, drama with growth or a lack thereof, drama with the salon and the stylists and me and natasha learning how to share. drama with sarah not being full time on the floor anymore, and yoga and endings and coming back down to run the store again. james and steve drama. culture clash, time wasting, ill-fitting bullshit that every business has to deal with on some level but not when it threatens to undermine the business itself. that was yesterday. that is behind us. now we can focus on price point, selection, creating deals that rotate throughout the line. we can focus once again on how we contribute to the community, how we show up, how we give back. what we want from our daily lives.

money is like air. without it you cannot survive. thriving means we have to make money. period. we cannot waste one single dollar. producing high quality natural hand made products is not cheap. but it has to be affordable for those who want it. it has to be attractive to people who are on a budget. a great lesson i've learned from all this is that i personally have to change my relationship to money. to budget. i also had to ask myself how it would feel if i took the pole out of my ass about everyone doing everything exactly the way i want all the time? i trust i'll work it out soon enough. but i also trust sarah to be honest with me. and to have some balls.

for anyone who thinks owning your own business is a ticket to the good life, think again. some people do it well. some not so much. many will have you believe through social media that it's all a great big whirlwind adventure. i'm guilty of that. "looking prosperous" has always been the rule. "nobody wants to know about the negative stuff" is what i hear from nearly everyone. well, the negative stuff is boring but so are most of the fancy events i attend. i'd rather be home with take out and a movie. yet like everyone else, i am striving for relevance in the marketplace. and seriously. sadly. most small businesses cannot sustain. that means people give up because the business sucks up all of your time, energy and money. and that's fair. because anything worth having is going to cost you something big. either you like the rhythm and roll of the coaster or you step off. the image most people hold of anything is rarely on target with the reality. 

so where do we go from here? the salon is doing well. price is a fairly average ticket, and while i appreciate discount sites like groupon, we are moving past that particular model. we don't want people who are moving from chair to chair for the cheapest price. we want to build relationships that last longer than a haircut. the grooming lounge (our men's salon) is working up a head of steam and new people are coming on board. i get to cut most days and i love the connection it gives me to my clients. it is what i dreamed of when reconstituting the salon a few years ago. this was my goal. check out atlasgroominglounge.com for more info.

as someone once said "if you're serious about changing your life, you'll find a way. if not, you'll find an excuse". the future? who the hell knows for sure? but my attitude is this: if you want to kick ass, lift your foot. once again i will be spending much of my time back up in the production studio making many of our hand made products. i'll be in the store, in the salon and yes, of course, cutting hair in the men's grooming lounge. everything i'll be doing is a bit of what i love best. all of it. and it doesn't matter if we are the most popular place on the planet or just a part of the philadelphia tapestry. what matters most is that we can fulfill our dearest desire to enjoy our work, to sustain the enterprise, and to build wonderful lives of purpose.

another reason why i love yelp

once upon a time i took issue with the amount of time the mobile phones distracted my associates from their work. text messages from family and friends that blew up each day distracting minutes that add up to hours of diversion from the work at hand. in the store and on the production floor, these virtual conversations between groups and individuals began to steal time from our daily productivity. eventually i just had to insist that everyone park phones away until break time. otherwise the distractions became a source of annoyance from which there was no hope of my release. at the day’s end, time is money.

technology began to morph onto the pavement, and as i attempted to walk two ornery terriers down a narrow street filled with people texting and walking, a whole new approach to maintaining sanity was necessary. sure, i live in a popular, bustling neighborhood. however when i moved in.. it was a quiet and up-and-coming place where no one roamed. with no park or trees for several blocks, walking the dogs has become a super mario brother’s game. i think deal with it fairly well now that i have learned how to navigate. i whistle to the pups as we walk to keep them focused on the job at hand. as i do, the people heading toward me look up and correct their gait. it actually creates a quick personal moment through this game board that is my street, where people look up and we smile.

the latest trend to contend with are social media sites finding new ways to connect our businesses with potential customers. Facebook, Instagram and now Yelp, all contain buttons that allow the user to contact directly to the business. a next generation idea that leaves me in a bit of a bind both personally and professionally. most everything now connects to my mobile phone, so i’ve changed the alerts that blew up my phone night and day. to live within the specter that people want to give me their business is an amazing, wonderful thing. but a conversation with each person via text/email is in an inefficient, impossible thing for me to comprehend on a daily basis.

imagine if you will that i get a request for an appointment. super! but here is the rub. an average appointment conversation on the phone takes 3 minutes. 5 for a new customer. 98% of the time, our business runs right on schedule. unlike most salons where time is a nebulous entity that ascribes you to a realm of double booking and who knows if you’ll ever get finished, in our salon you get in and out on time. the level of specificity involved with placing you into an appointment with the appropriate stylist for the correct duration and service category is daunting. understand that the question most asked after any question i might ask is: what’s the difference?

though we have everything listed on the menu page, a certain amount of conversation is required. things like: are you interested in a junior or senior stylist? is it a single process or a highlight? partial, half or full head? traditional foils or specialty highlight? demi or permanent color? glaze, color balance or toner? if you have curly hair or long hair or special needs, that is another conversation. discounts and coupons are only accepted by certain stylists. each stylist takes a different amount of time for the services they do. i see you tracking with me so no need to belabor the point.

a simple text message from one person wishing to make an appointment through these sites or by email might eat up a half hour or more. times that by a dozen plus all the other things i need to do while working (let alone the people who makes requests long after i’ve left for the evening) and productivity takes a dive. customer service takes a hit too. and for as much as these buttons are supposed to add to the customer experience, they can also rob it of any real connectivity. we choose not to offer online booking because of how we run our business. yes, it is convenient. but book it wrong and the experience will be shattered.

our relationship with our clients begins with the first phone call. a chance to feel us out. see what we are about. it gives us a chance to find out what you need. what you desire. connecting vocally is when we begin to set your expectation. how we are best able to exceed those expectations.

buttons are a great beginning. but connecting easily and connecting well are two very different things. to utilize all that technology has to offer, we have to find a way to do more than simply function. given time, i have no doubt we will. and we are so grateful that technology is moving in ways that build our customer base, especially where review sites like Yelp com into play. word of mouth is always, always the best advertising. how wonderful that people take the time to share their experiences, good and bad. it keeps us on our toes, offers feed-back that no amount of survey monkey could offer, and gives you a way to contact us for services. kudos!

the joy of sleep

as a life long insomniac, i’ve come to covet the hours i spend in my bed.

my past life contained thousands of long nights when my thoughts raced. wakeful and anxious, i would lie for hours and pray for the sleep that simply would not come. invariably i gave up, went back out to the television and raided the refrigerator. i would comfort myself with whatever i could, often up-ending a bottle of whiskey that would drown me into oblivion. i would awaken groggy and unfocused. the day meant accomplishing nothing. i was cranky, depressed and self-loathing. then i began to look for more constructive natural way to bring on sleep. as time passed it became about the ritual. the rituals i created to prepare myself for the rest to come. baths, teas, tonics, herbs, candles… i even conceived of duross & langel while soaking in a hot, salted tub on a cold night to soothe my racing mind. as i climbed into bed, my skin toasty warm between the cool sheets, the wind howled like a lullaby outside my window, coaxing me to slumber. it was this kind of simple ritual that taught me how to get ready for bed.

once upon a time… i had to learn how to sleep. to want to wind down and embrace the slumber. it all began with the realization that i would not be missing a thing by sleeping, and that the return of this investment was an endless amount of energy, creativity, productivity and a healthier body. the best me i could be.

i also enjoy lazy mornings. waking, stretching, smiling in the morning light and then falling asleep again. a lazy starfish taking up a position in the middle of the bed, stealing a few more winks. though I know many of you will condemn me for welcoming dogs into my bed, becoming wakeful as two terriers snog me to life is a joyful thing. 4:30am is an obnoxious hour, but after a quick walk i get to climb back in and sleep some more. oh blessed sleep. where have you been all my life?

my days are long and full. some people call it stress. i call it life. some of us run on a different energy. i average almost five miles a day on the stairs in our building. just one speed. fast. my life runs full steam ahead because i indulge myself in slumber. one third of my life will have been spent in bed so you might imagine i don’t cheap on the linens. or the pillows, the mattress or duvet. i may be spoiled but i don’t wake up sore.

a patch of blue sky

imagine standing in a vast moor. now imagine it’s raining cold and hard. no shelter. no escape. just a patch of blue sky off in the distance, with the hope that if you keep moving toward it, everything will be fine.

that’s pretty much how i felt most of last year. if you’ve read my blog, you know i don’t mince words. thoughts are wonderful but sometimes business is about what you feel. it’s not truth, nor acumen nor talent. simply standing still and asking myself “what is it i feel?” can inform my approach to whatever presents itself in a very powerful way. this past year i have been in that field with one single purpose. to reach the place where they sky is blue. now, a year later, i can look behind me and see what an amazing journey this has been.

time takes time. even the village idiot can come to that conclusion before me. i become the March Hare Through the Looking Glass (an annoying literary figure if ever there was one) forever vexed by the murder of time. in the book Alice hypothesized that “the March Hare will be the most interesting, and perhaps as this is May it won’t be raving mad – at least not so mad as it was in March.” obviously i am much slower than the hare as it is well past may, but somehow, i am not so mad as i was last march. as for interesting? who can say. i do know for sure i’m not a complete dullard.

something i find infinitely fascinating is having my dreams come to pass. seeing the things i imagined actually taking hold. blossoming. materializing into my reality. i’ve been told i overreach. of course i do. that’s a given when setting out for a lofty goal. the struggle has always been about finding my way back to earth. and this time it was far more tedious and difficult than i could have imagined. it has been a seemingly endless field of rain, and a wonder if whether that patch of blue sky is moving away from me or is it coming in my direction? now we know.

at present my work life is a whirlwind. not the kind this house experiences at the holidays, but rather the bustle and kinetic energy of commerce as daily life. the salon continues to grow and hum. people are responding in the way we imagined. finding my purpose has been half the journey. watching others as they find theirs is satisfying, if not sometimes a bit alarming. making oneself redundant is a feat i have yet to master. and that moor with the distant patch of blue sky? simply one of the more frightening metaphors of my lifetime that i hope to make literal on a hiking trip in Scotland in the not so distant future.

make no mistake, i have a long way to go before this metaphor is complete. but i’m halfway there and the light coming toward me sure is might fine.

the day is perpetual morning

Vision is subjective. It varies depending upon where you stand. I do not believe that one vision is better than another. However I do like to think vision is about fit. What wears best. What you are willing to try on and, depending upon your level of comfort, either own or try on something else. Our salon is no different. For two years I have been sitting upon a pre-signed lease that until recently I could not execute. That is how long i have been planning this day. As an impatient and brash younger man, i never could have done this. Funny how life leads us where it may. For those who care to read on, I’d like to share a bit of my adventure and how we ended up at this point in our story. When I was young, very young, I liked to create hair styles with my friends (girls) dolls. I did not want to dress them or play act, just groom, cut and style. I did once try to use color but friends don’t look kindly to shoe polished barbie brunettes. I put away these childish things but never lost touch with my inner hairdresser. Fast forward through a very long and turbulent post adolescence. If i were allowed a do-over, I would drop out of high school circa 1978, run away to London and become a part of the amazing movement in hair that took place in that era. In short, I would have begun this path earlier. Though some people dream of a different life, I dream more of the same. I began my barber/stylist career in a bathroom with a pair of clippers and a six pack of Molson Ale. The results were horrendous but the dye was cast. A few days later I enrolled in cosmetology school. My professional career had begun. I was hired for my first job at the once prestigious John Wanamaker Salon (shabby and fraying at the edges). At that phase of the salon’s lifecycle, it afforded me ample opportunity to practice my craft and pull my personal shit together. Then a year at Strawbridge & Clothier (amazing dental benefits..) then down 13th street to a new salon called CUT where i pulled in as many new clients as possible. Then a very brief and surreal stint at Invincible. This is when I realized I was responsible for creating my own happiness. ergo, The Atlas Hair Co. My first solo venture. It would be prudent to note at this point that I had been chosen by a new product manufacturer, American Crew, as a local educator. and soon after, a national all-star. My clients never quite understood what I did after closing the salon on Saturday afternoon until opening again Wednesday morning but in laymen’s terms, my teammates and I were making history. American Crew had five products when I began working with the company. I was trained by some of the finest barber/stylist the world has ever known. American Crew broke the boundaries of all previous educational experiences and re-created the market segment for the male client. Today, an entire generation of stylist’s work is influenced by the groundbreaking work of American Crew. Though i was more of a method workhorse educator, my teammates were brilliant editorialists who could create styles that are still interpreted, reinterpreted, shorn and worn today. In 1999 I tried to do something really stupid. I envisioned the expansion of Atlas while creating the Philadelphia Soap Company. My idea failed for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was my inability to look at the whole picture. I learned a great deal about success through the process of failure. For the record, I define failure as the collapse of an idea or venture and success as the ability to move with time, discern what is good from the lesser, build trust in oneself and then create a life that is not defined by another’s measure of the word success. Once I could master this, duross & langel was possible. We closed the salon in 2007 so that we could move the store and expand operations. Though I knew my days as a stylist were over, my mentor/educator life just needed an extended vacation. I still teach for Joe Grooming from time to time when not developing new product ideas for the line, but it has become crystal clear where my passions have reignited. Welcome to today. In my opinion, nothing worth having is easy. The trick is not getting what you want. It’s still wanting it after you get it. Things worth building come with challenges. Coming up with money is the easy part. Finding someone who can interpret and build your vision, though a bit tougher, is made true by other craftsmen who show up and excel (thank you Matt Bruno). Populating the place with like-minded individuals is tougher still. This is where ample patience is needed. Patience is a struggle for me (at the moment though, i am breathing through it). What i am attempting to do within this space is very different from what many salons do. I imagine many will think my methods a bit mad. Everyone likes to think they know it all. Know it best. Most days i am no exception. Creating a tiered yet democratic salon is tricky. Like me, many stylists fresh out of school can’t afford to spend months on end being an assistant. many people like me have to cut. And cut. And cut. And cut. That is how we master. So? Make one room a workshop where even the most novice of stylists can hone their craft while making some coin. The price is sweet for the client and the results are still better than the most chainy of the chain salons. For the record, just because a salon is well appointed and the prices keep out riff raff like me does not mean you are getting what you paid for. But i digress. In the salon, stylists will have to set their own prices based on the level of talent and experience they bring to the space. You just want a wash and cut? This much. You want a cut and blow out? This much. Color too? You get the idea. It’s not a new one. Just an idea that need to be reclaimed and repurposed. I’ve been told it’s not going to work. But i was told no one would come to my store to purchase hand made natural bath and skin care either. This is happening. You can find me filed somewhere between anxious and elated. Thoreau once wrote to one whose elastic and vigorous thoughts keep pace with the sun, the day is a perpetual morning. It matters not the labors and attitudes of men, morning is when I am awake and there is dawn in me. There is dawn in us all. I hope you will come join us in this adventure. 

why your first husband should move to europe and other things i learned this year

only hours away from another birthday, i like to look back and reassess. 365 days. it is my new year. my hair is graying. my eyes are a joke. but i have health and i have strength. so damn near anything is possible. encouraging my first husband and business partner to move to europe was a most selfish act. though he didn't need much encouragement, i thought it would be better if he were far away. i was right but not for the reasons i had imagined. last weekend i climbed a 1500 foot high Austrian castle with james and our friends. the end of the marriage was, for a few years, the emotional equivalent of having my ass hanging off a cliff. now we are climbing together. funny that. divorce doesn't have to be the lifetime movie saga people expect it to be. i am very glad he chose Austria because i do love the country.

i profoundly enjoy the people with whom i work. each aspect of the business bring new challenges. some exciting and embracing. some suck. most days i pray that i won't say something stupid like fuck in front of a five year old. there are days when i am annoying or obnoxious or silly. anything less would be inauthentic. though we strive to stay on-point, you never know what the next moment will bring. any way you slice it, i am a part of a team. accepting of my team and their acceptance of me makes my life more joyful. nobody is perfect. certainly not me. we are lucky. blessed actually.

having an alarm system installed in the loft offers more security. it has a camera so i never know what i'm going to see if i check in on the dogs. even in the dark. now that's funny. except when i forget it's armed and the alarm begins to wail.

choosing the right work wife is the difference between a slice of heaven or a hellish grind from which there is no escape. come on, who on earth but our Sarah would put on a dirndl and trapse with me through Saltzburg on a self-guided Sound of Music Tour? or when asked which of her top three dessert choices at the Hotel Sacher she would order, the reply came "all three" (and we ate every last bit too). my work wife is a force of nature who has been firmly beside me almost eight years. i look forward to building a lifetime of memories with my pal and right hand.

a good photo can make anyone feel ageless. this one taken by renown local photographer Courtney Apple captured me in an off moment. with a storm raging outside my window, the pups pushed in, and while Courtney was testing her flash, this pictured was snapped. i think she would agree that the best moments sometimes happen by themselves. not so long ago i looked up into the mirror and saw a much older man than lived in my imagination. it's not about beauty or vanity. merely the result of years. this picture reminds me that i can still be surprised by myself. the dogs are cute regardless. 

for every year that passes, new wonders fill my world. braden, gavin, giada, and this year maci and mckenzie. they will come to remember me as that old uncle who said goofy stuff and always had their back. if that is the cost of growing older then i will gladly pay. my nine nieces and nephews have given me a lifetime of pleasure and memories, filled my life with meaning, offered abundant love and always made me feel like i was very special. on most days they still do. as we continue to build duross & langel, some have chosen to join us. it can be a tricky thing working with family. time will tell. love seems like as good a foundation to build upon as any. if everything in life is a gamble, i like my odds.