When I learnt how to
sail, the first thing I was taught was how to capsize. When I went to
gymnastics, the first thing I was taught was how to fall. Falling, capsizing –
failing - was all about the recovery; and in gymnastics, it was all about
recovering gracefully, getting up with style.
I got married young. I
got divorced young. A dramatic story of my 20s. He left for me another women.
My heart broke. The divorce paperwork nearly killed me. But, it was a wonderful
relationship; until, it wasn't. And now I'm saddled with this yoke of a 'failed
marriage’.
But what if we think
about failure differently? It’s a cliché, but these kinda heartbreaks are what
makes me who I am today - if I am not a success, at the very least I have
survived. 100 years ago the average marriage lasted about a decade - women
died in childbirth, life span was a lot less, so ‘forever’ had a different
meaning. We have thankfully moved on from then and are living healthier, longer
lives, but we are still pinning our concepts of success on outdated data. We
need to get over this romantic idea of ‘forever’. This sentiment is
particularly necessary when thinking about business and particularly relevant
to the world of hospitality; food and wine are romantic endeavours.
No one gets into the
food and service industry unless they love it - the long unsociable hours, the
dedication to making sure other people are having a good time. Its the
love of a perfectly cooked plate of freshly made pasta, the romance of a bottle
of Cote de Rhone and the sexiness of classic martini that get you there in the
first place. And boom, you’re running your own restaurant, knee deep in dirty
glasses because the glass washer broke and covered in invoices as everyone
wants their money the same day this month.
What has made me think
of failure and business is because of a dinner this month that was a trip down
memory lane. 8 Hoxton Square.
Oh Hoxton Square. I
have spend many a good time with you - the first years of my first marriage…
the beginning of my 20s in general, my theatre company was first based here.
Hoxton Square, if your four sides could talk - dancing, puking, making out,
doing lines in doorways, rehearsals on the grass, a few tears, lots of giggles;
what haven't I done in Hoxton Square? The beginnings of much success,
and the place of many fails.
So here I am, back in
Hoxton Square at a relaxed and friendly, grown up restaurant. I’m selfishly
pleased to see the Square has grown with me. The meal was gorgeous looking and
tasting food. An absolutely excellent wine list - my favourite I think….! Not
too big, but great range, reasonably priced and a perfect amount available by
the glass (I like to try as many things as possible!) My friend and I didn’t
want to drink too much, but wanted to try everything. We had a glass of
Nyetimber to start, and then a glass of Alsace and an Australian riesling -
which we shared. I converted my friend to riesling!
But what really got me
thinking about this restaurant, was not so much the specificity of it, but
rather that general idea of new places. Hoxton Sq is now firmly at the edge of
the city. Shoreditch is now accessible, very much re-generated. Rents are sky
high for living accommodation and I envisage that businesses rents are too.
This is a neighborhood feel restaurant, but with the city at its door steps, it
gets the best of both worlds. But still, the risk is huge.
London is a constantly
growing space, and rents and living expenses are moving faster than inflation,
so opening a business is a bigger risk now than it has been. There is a reason
that temporary dining is more prevalent now. Add that to the fickle nature of
London, busy bustling, always craving something new and exciting and you can
never quite gage what is going to work, be ‘cool’, capture the imagination of
the public. And even if you get rave reviews, this does not equal a good bottom
line – the buzz can fade pretty quick. Yet I do believe that we are in an
exciting time, where the restaurant and bar scene is at a high. It feels like
the best time and the worst time to start a new business around feeding
people.
So what happens when it
doesn't work? Restaurants are like other businesses, the percentage of closure
in the first five years is huge*. What happens when you have to cut your
losses? Do you cut your losses or wait for someone to tell you to do it? Do you
slink off quietly, hoping no one will notice? Do you keep ploughing through and
hope for better times?
I’m not advocating the idea of frivolity - “oh
bugger, not as a good as I thought it was going to be, oh well, it’s just
thousands and thousands of pounds I’m losing….” But I am suggesting that we
think about failure in a different way.
I’m saying let's start at the end. Let's think of
ending the whole project, and work our way back. I'm saying let's celebrate
endings, or even, getting it wrong. I'm also not saying 'don't go into things
with dreams, hopes and aspirations', but maybe just celebrating when it all
fucks up! Planning the end point might make for more imaginative plans and fun
times while the project/relationship/business is in full swing.
If we think about of
starting small, committing to less, and most importantly specifically planning
an end date into our thinking, maybe we will build businesses in a different
way. Maybe the idea of breaking even, or small margins, so that we can achieve
something else - not just a learning experience, but a way of working, a way of
seeing yourself through to the next stage. (I guess I am thinking about
creating more of a space between temporary dining/long term pop-ups and the
fully fledged restaurant.)
Five-year plans are not
a new thing - in life or business (“Anna, what’s your five year plan? Are you
going to have babies/buy a flat/ get married/ get a haircut and get a real
job!”). Putting together a five year plan that just ends after five
years; to me that feels like an idea that could mean success. My PhD took four
years, but from application to submission and viva, to graduation took five
years, so to me five years feels like a manageable time where things can
succeed, and then you can move on.
I have no idea how to be successful, in life or
work, but let's stop seeing an end as a failure. We might then be a littler
kinder on ourselves, and on each other.
***
As I am finishing up
this piece another new neighborhood restaurant Primeur tweets “A3 premises in
Covent Garden 2000sq ft, £110000 rent £750000 premium #insane #londonrents
#industrydangers #neighbourhoodescape”.
Which reminds me that
so much in the restaurant industry is about reaching dizzying heights, Michelin
stars, central locations, big budgets; but as we (London) grow in size and
taste buds, the 'Neighborhood Escape' seems like the perfect success.
But then of course – what happens to this lovely
scene of food and wine that we currently live in, if rents keep rising, and no
one is able to afford, even the shortest of romances? Hmmm… to investigate at
another time…
*There
isn’t a lot of research available on London restaurants, at the moment, but
this study in the US sounds probably pretty accurate; 3 out of 5 close in first
five years.
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