With Purpose & Heart

It may seem funny that I am writing about my search for Purpose and Heart—and the difficulty of arriving at it—to explain what Purpose and Heart are. But whether you're searching for yourself, in your work, in service of others, it's not something easily discovered. Finding it requires time, digging deep, lots of self-reflection, internal and external honesty, an openness to see and take in what's around you, and the knowledge that you may struggle and not get it right before hopefully, you do. I am writing with the hindsight of twenty-five+ years of work experience and twice that of life experience, including this pandemic year when all that we know and are comfortable with is being tested. I write it knowing that like life, finding Purpose and Heart also takes work, is filled with trials, tribulations, and most likely some heartache along the way. But also because it’s worth it, the search and the discovery.

I'd had summer jobs in the design industry from the time I was 15 (thank you to Nancy Green and Michael Donovan for the head start and to my father, Ralph Caplan, for his insight, encouragement, and exposure). My career really began post-college when I landed a job as an assistant account manager in the industrial design department of branding and design firm Cato Gobé & Associate.

I was incredibly eager to learn and contribute. At the time, we worked mostly on fragrance and packaging projects for brands like Estee Lauder and Elizabeth Arden. So I diligently created an entire stock bottle and packaging resource library that offered an array of shapes and vendors the team could reference. It was heaven to me, putting my curiosity, organizational skills, design knowledge, and aesthetic sensibility to use while I was also helping people. Yet, I couldn't have articulated that at the time. I was just enjoying myself in the mix of the studio's bustle, the deadlines to be met, and the conversations about why something should be this way vs. that (for which, I always had an opinion).

And yet, I remember often noticing the head of the Industrial Design Group's detachment. He was always inside his office on his own, away from us, behind a closed door. Through the glass, I could see him, head down, looking intently at his paper as he sketched. He was drawing complex power tools, cars, and tractors. The things he felt really mattered, the things he wanted to be designing, but wasn't. He was unhappy, it was clear. And I could feel it. The whole studio could.

I excelled at Cato Gobé. By my third year, I ran the retail design division, overseeing the complex retainer of our biggest client—The Limited (now L Brands). I oversaw rebranding projects for Abercrombie and Fitch, Victoria's Secret, and the branding of Bath & Body Works. I had a team of account managers whose work I supervised and I had the privilege of being my boss Marc Gobé's sidekick for private meetings with Les Wexner and other Limited Company executives. It was glamorous. I was 24 and flying on the private jet to Columbus, OH, taking "inspirational" trips to Europe, gaining exposure, and learning about branding from the inside out.

But I was also starting to feel like the head of the ID group. I wasn't doing what mattered to me or I believed made a positive contribution, and it began to eat at me. After over six years there, I left, but it wasn't to follow my heart; it was an ethical break—I was asked to do something that compromised my business and personal ethics—so I said no and moved on. 

I had a 1-year non-compete that I adhered to, after which I worked for one of my previous clients, FilaSport/Fila USA. I joined the company because of my love for Italy, its people, Italian design, my knowledge of the language, the company's intriguing history, and because I already knew the team members and executives. Again, it began with incredible excitement. Trips to the headquarters in Biella, Italy, and around Europe, big budgets, and working with photographers like Sam Shahid and Bruce Weber. But here too, my heart started hurting. I know now that this happens when I don't listen to it. My heart gets painful and lets me know something is wrong. 

While at Fila, I had the chance to work with someone who's the essence of Purpose and Heart, world-champion single-handed sailor Giovanni Soldini. He was one of Fila's sponsored athletes. A casual, funny guy, whose stature is in no way a sign of his power, strength, or intensity. Getting to know him and his team provided me with the glaring contrast of seeing people who knew what they wanted and followed their hearts vs. those who ignore what they feel and let the world lead them (what I was often doing). Gio is an extreme example of Purpose and Heart (which makes sense since he lives life to the extreme—in extreme weather, often in the most extreme places, under the most extreme conditions). He also has a calling (to always be on the water) and the bullish personality and big heart to make it happen. Yet, in his extremeness are lessons we all can learn from about vision, taking risks, following your heart.

Without meaning to, he and his team opened my eyes and, again, made my heart hurt. I loved what I did, but I didn't always love the output or, in truth, the people I was doing it for. They had one goal, money. I had another; I wanted to tell stories with images and words, engage people, and give them products or create experiences they would love and that, hopefully, did the least harm. In the end, I didn't have to leave Fila. The company was faltering in the US. They had layoffs, and with many of my colleagues, I was one of them. It hurt. I won't lie. Even though I was struggling being there. I wanted to be the one to leave. It took a while to dust myself off and let the bruises heal. And when I did, although I didn’t have a clear next step, I did know I wanted my next move to align with my view of the world—I just didn’t know how to do that or where to ask for help (a childhood problem that I had carried with me). 

What I did know well was someone who shared my design sensibility and similar life/work desires and values. That's was Ayse Birsel and the moment when she and I really began our collaboration. We had originally met when she was a freelancer at Cato Gobé. There had been an instant connection. I saw in her an innate talent blended with tremendous skill and intention. She put all of herself into her work and did it with intelligence, deep insight, and grace. Beauty for Ayse was a result, not a goal, and that resonated with me. Like me, she wanted her work to have meaning. So we set out to make meaningful things together.

Ayse's and my work has continued from there, with a hiatus or two forced by economic downturns and the likes, but ultimately we've grown up professionally together. Birthing many award-winning projects with me as her "doula," as she likes to say. Our work, unexpectedly, also entailed me helping her find her Purpose and Heart. Discovering that at the foundation of her work is a very unique process and way of thinking, Deconstruction:Reconstruction, that allows her to see and visualize complex problems simply (or as my father wrote about her, to arrive at "simplicity on the other side of complexity"). It also entails working with her to identify and articulate her purpose—to help people design their lives and the products, services, and experiences they need to do so. It's lofty, yes, but she's doing it with Purpose and Heart. 

While helping Ayse get clarity, I have done the same for myself (not without encouragement from her and others close to me, including my father, stepmother, and husband). Early in my career I'd gotten lost in the process of helping others and hadn't realized that my Purpose and Heart are just that—helping others to recognize and define their Purpose and Heart—for their brand, product, service, and experiences. Doing this helps me fulfill my own. They are interconnected. A complete circle. A win-win, and who doesn't want that? Especially when it's heartfelt ❤️

Purpose: The reason for which something is done or created or exists. The raison d’être, intention, and what one hopes to achieve.

Heart : The core or essence of something—a person, a place, a brand, an object, an experience—what makes it tick, what it is rooted in, the foundation.

&: The two together are powerful.