cultures.”
“Isn’t the linen Chinese?”
“No. We make linen in this country but it isn’t so natural to us, and the quality really isn’t that good. I looked to Italy, but the cost was prohibitive. Then I found fabric as good as the Italian in Lithuania, at a cost closer to what we would pay in China.”
“How much does it cost?” May asked.
“About twenty U.S. dollars a metre.”
“And how many metres in the first coat we saw, or in a dress?”
“Three metres in the coat, two to three in the dresses, and about two in the pants.”
“And then you double the material cost to get the finished goods cost,” Gillian said.
“So you can make a coat like that for a hundred and twenty dollars?”
“Yes, something in that range,” Gillian said.
“A coat like that would easily sell for fifteen hundred U.S. dollars in Hong Kong,” Amanda said.
“The margins are healthy,” Gillian said. “And if we can get the name Po to mean something, then we can demand a premium.”
“It is intriguing,” May said.
Gillian picked up one of the binders. “I’ve prepared a five-year plan.”
“We’re listening,” May said.
For the next two hours, followed by a break for lunch, and then another four hours, Gillian painstakingly took them through the nuts and bolts of creating and growing the brand. It was a slow build, the first year devoted to laying the design groundwork and surrounding it with infrastructure and support systems. She wanted to roll out the brand at the end of that year, paving the way with an extensive public relations, advertising, and marketing campaign. Her plan was to first establish an Asian base and then gradually expand into Europe. She didn’t envision tackling the U.S. market until they had a presence and a track record in Europe. By year four she envisioned PÖ as a worldwide brand with sales in excess of US$200 million.
Ava, May, and Amanda listened, often interrupting with questions. Ava made notes, as was her habit. Clark had pushed his chair back from the table, as if he had no interest in the business discussion. Twice he left the room for prolonged periods, but since he was so quiet when he was there, his absence was hardly noticed.
It was late in the afternoon when Gillian closed the last page of her binder. “There, I’m finished. Thank you for your patience. Now, do you have any more questions for us?”
“Yes, actually, I do,” Ava said. “We’ve heard from you today and from Amanda earlier that many of your clients have a very high opinion of Clark’s talents. Why didn’t you go to one of them? In fact, why didn’t you go to the company that bought your father and uncle’s business to bankroll you? It seems to me that they would be a better fit than us.”
She saw Clark cast an anxious glance at his sister. Gillian caught it too, and then nodded briskly at him. “We did go to them. We went to the company that bought the business, and then we went to two of the factory’s largest long-standing customers. The new owner had no interest at all. Both of the customers were curious enough to kick our tires and then made half-hearted offers.”
“Half-hearted?”
“Basically they were prepared to put up a bit of money if Clark agreed to keep designing for their labels.”
“I knew what that meant,” Clark said through tight lips. “Their labels would have all the priority. I could design my clothes in whatever pitiful amount of time was left over. And as for the money, what they offered was a joke. They were treating me like a child whose whims had to be satisfied so he could be kept under control.”
“I don’t believe they were quite that condescending,” Gillian said. “But the money was totally inadequate, and the demands they would have placed on Clark to produce their own goods would have left him with virtually no time for anything else.”
“Did you meet with anyone else?” Ava asked.
“A couple of local people, but the chemistry
“Isn’t the linen Chinese?”
“No. We make linen in this country but it isn’t so natural to us, and the quality really isn’t that good. I looked to Italy, but the cost was prohibitive. Then I found fabric as good as the Italian in Lithuania, at a cost closer to what we would pay in China.”
“How much does it cost?” May asked.
“About twenty U.S. dollars a metre.”
“And how many metres in the first coat we saw, or in a dress?”
“Three metres in the coat, two to three in the dresses, and about two in the pants.”
“And then you double the material cost to get the finished goods cost,” Gillian said.
“So you can make a coat like that for a hundred and twenty dollars?”
“Yes, something in that range,” Gillian said.
“A coat like that would easily sell for fifteen hundred U.S. dollars in Hong Kong,” Amanda said.
“The margins are healthy,” Gillian said. “And if we can get the name Po to mean something, then we can demand a premium.”
“It is intriguing,” May said.
Gillian picked up one of the binders. “I’ve prepared a five-year plan.”
“We’re listening,” May said.
For the next two hours, followed by a break for lunch, and then another four hours, Gillian painstakingly took them through the nuts and bolts of creating and growing the brand. It was a slow build, the first year devoted to laying the design groundwork and surrounding it with infrastructure and support systems. She wanted to roll out the brand at the end of that year, paving the way with an extensive public relations, advertising, and marketing campaign. Her plan was to first establish an Asian base and then gradually expand into Europe. She didn’t envision tackling the U.S. market until they had a presence and a track record in Europe. By year four she envisioned PÖ as a worldwide brand with sales in excess of US$200 million.
Ava, May, and Amanda listened, often interrupting with questions. Ava made notes, as was her habit. Clark had pushed his chair back from the table, as if he had no interest in the business discussion. Twice he left the room for prolonged periods, but since he was so quiet when he was there, his absence was hardly noticed.
It was late in the afternoon when Gillian closed the last page of her binder. “There, I’m finished. Thank you for your patience. Now, do you have any more questions for us?”
“Yes, actually, I do,” Ava said. “We’ve heard from you today and from Amanda earlier that many of your clients have a very high opinion of Clark’s talents. Why didn’t you go to one of them? In fact, why didn’t you go to the company that bought your father and uncle’s business to bankroll you? It seems to me that they would be a better fit than us.”
She saw Clark cast an anxious glance at his sister. Gillian caught it too, and then nodded briskly at him. “We did go to them. We went to the company that bought the business, and then we went to two of the factory’s largest long-standing customers. The new owner had no interest at all. Both of the customers were curious enough to kick our tires and then made half-hearted offers.”
“Half-hearted?”
“Basically they were prepared to put up a bit of money if Clark agreed to keep designing for their labels.”
“I knew what that meant,” Clark said through tight lips. “Their labels would have all the priority. I could design my clothes in whatever pitiful amount of time was left over. And as for the money, what they offered was a joke. They were treating me like a child whose whims had to be satisfied so he could be kept under control.”
“I don’t believe they were quite that condescending,” Gillian said. “But the money was totally inadequate, and the demands they would have placed on Clark to produce their own goods would have left him with virtually no time for anything else.”
“Did you meet with anyone else?” Ava asked.
“A couple of local people, but the chemistry
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