The Hippie Guide to Climbingthe Corporate Ladder
By Skip Yowell
(Naked Ink, 224 pages, $21.99)
review from the wsj (i know, sigh):
--
By GEOFFREY NORMAN
February 9, 2007; The Wall Street Journal
Most people would feel they'd been dealt a fair hand by life if they could spend it doing something they enjoyed. If, that is, there were no divide between what they did to earn a living and . . . living. Even better would be managing this feat with stunning success and without the need for a major personal transformation -- to be the same person, 40 years and millions of dollars later, that you were when you first started thinking: "Hey, I could make a few bucks doing this and have some fun, too. Groovy."
http://online.wsj.com/public/resources/images … 172538.jpg
Meet Skip Yowell, the author of "The Hippie Guide to Climbing the Corporate Ladder & Other Mountains," a man whose entrepreneurial success is undeniable. If he does not actually still use the word "groovy," he is nonetheless an unrepentant flower child and son of the '60s.
In 1967, Mr. Yowell's cousin Murray had an idea for a better backpack. It would be built around a lightweight, adjustable aluminum frame. Cousin Murray formed a company. The woman he was dating at the time happened to be a virtuoso on the sewing machine. Murray promised that if she would marry him, he'd name the company after her. "She did, and he did," Mr. Yowell writes, "and JanSport was born."
The big cultural effect of what became the company's signature product -- a little pack now worn by students in every part of the world -- was not even a dream. The JanSport team was just "three hippies . . . no business plan . . . even less money. . . . All we had was Murray's innovative design, Jan's skill, my creative instincts and a shared affinity for Dylan music and beer."
The JanSport pack was an improvement over the standard packs of the day, and the little entrepreneurial band had timed it right. Nature was hot. Outdoor adventure was in. People were buying "Walden" and occasionally even reading it.
Still, success was no sure thing, and the story of how JanSport went from its first "big order" of 300 packs to one of the most recognizable brands in the world is full of learning experiences -- the kinds of big breaks and near misses that are common to business epics.
Mr. Yowell tries gamely to synthesize the principles that have guided him, but there is no sunburst of business wisdom here: "We'll succeed because we will work the hardest. We value and appreciate each person. We believe there is more to life than a day's work. We'll make fun a part of everything we do." Sounds fine, but such words will probably not be chiseled in marble anytime soon.
Lessons aside, the narrative is delightful. This is, one thinks, what success feels like. It is in part the experience of every start-up and every growing company that has had to endure "cash shortages, bank credit-line hassles, fire damage, legal minefields, theft, machine failure, bad beer."
One message is clear: Enthusiasm matters. We never really learn, from reading the book, just how much money Mr. Yowell has made or how big his company is. (Answers: a lot and very.) But we do learn about how he took dealers on climbs of Mount Rainier, joined an Everest expedition and got involved in goofy promotions like the "Bak-A-Yak" fundraiser for a Himalayan excursion.
It was not all smooth climbing. In almost lavish detail, Mr. Yowell tells the story of a great business blunder. After nearly freezing to death while testing a prototype tent, he and his partners came up with a new concept and design -- the dome tent -- that became the standard across the industry. In their enthusiasm, they neglected to apply for a patent. Mr. Yowell estimates that the oversight has cost him $200 million. He doesn't seem to mind. How groovy is that?
By Skip Yowell
(Naked Ink, 224 pages, $21.99)
review from the wsj (i know, sigh):
--
By GEOFFREY NORMAN
February 9, 2007; The Wall Street Journal
Most people would feel they'd been dealt a fair hand by life if they could spend it doing something they enjoyed. If, that is, there were no divide between what they did to earn a living and . . . living. Even better would be managing this feat with stunning success and without the need for a major personal transformation -- to be the same person, 40 years and millions of dollars later, that you were when you first started thinking: "Hey, I could make a few bucks doing this and have some fun, too. Groovy."
http://online.wsj.com/public/resources/images … 172538.jpg
Meet Skip Yowell, the author of "The Hippie Guide to Climbing the Corporate Ladder & Other Mountains," a man whose entrepreneurial success is undeniable. If he does not actually still use the word "groovy," he is nonetheless an unrepentant flower child and son of the '60s.
In 1967, Mr. Yowell's cousin Murray had an idea for a better backpack. It would be built around a lightweight, adjustable aluminum frame. Cousin Murray formed a company. The woman he was dating at the time happened to be a virtuoso on the sewing machine. Murray promised that if she would marry him, he'd name the company after her. "She did, and he did," Mr. Yowell writes, "and JanSport was born."
The big cultural effect of what became the company's signature product -- a little pack now worn by students in every part of the world -- was not even a dream. The JanSport team was just "three hippies . . . no business plan . . . even less money. . . . All we had was Murray's innovative design, Jan's skill, my creative instincts and a shared affinity for Dylan music and beer."
The JanSport pack was an improvement over the standard packs of the day, and the little entrepreneurial band had timed it right. Nature was hot. Outdoor adventure was in. People were buying "Walden" and occasionally even reading it.
Still, success was no sure thing, and the story of how JanSport went from its first "big order" of 300 packs to one of the most recognizable brands in the world is full of learning experiences -- the kinds of big breaks and near misses that are common to business epics.
Mr. Yowell tries gamely to synthesize the principles that have guided him, but there is no sunburst of business wisdom here: "We'll succeed because we will work the hardest. We value and appreciate each person. We believe there is more to life than a day's work. We'll make fun a part of everything we do." Sounds fine, but such words will probably not be chiseled in marble anytime soon.
Lessons aside, the narrative is delightful. This is, one thinks, what success feels like. It is in part the experience of every start-up and every growing company that has had to endure "cash shortages, bank credit-line hassles, fire damage, legal minefields, theft, machine failure, bad beer."
One message is clear: Enthusiasm matters. We never really learn, from reading the book, just how much money Mr. Yowell has made or how big his company is. (Answers: a lot and very.) But we do learn about how he took dealers on climbs of Mount Rainier, joined an Everest expedition and got involved in goofy promotions like the "Bak-A-Yak" fundraiser for a Himalayan excursion.
It was not all smooth climbing. In almost lavish detail, Mr. Yowell tells the story of a great business blunder. After nearly freezing to death while testing a prototype tent, he and his partners came up with a new concept and design -- the dome tent -- that became the standard across the industry. In their enthusiasm, they neglected to apply for a patent. Mr. Yowell estimates that the oversight has cost him $200 million. He doesn't seem to mind. How groovy is that?
That's awesome, who needs a fricken business plan anyway.