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I’m about to do something I’ve never done before.
Talk about pricing. Our pricing. Publicly.

I love running my own business. Absolutely love it. I’ve met some amazing people along the way, many who will be lifelong friends. But with happiness, also comes strife. Sacrifices. Hardships. Situations that keep you awake at night. And something that has been keeping me awake at night for a long time, is my pricing. Pricing tends to be the enormous elephant in the room. It’s always present, but nobody wants to talk about it.

Lucky for me, I happen to like elephants.

I had a conversation with a dear friend this week. She said one of the most profound, yet simple things to me—Artists think they are worth more than they really are. That statement stopped me in my tracks. I’ve been thinking about it ever since. I guess it’s because I agree with it—even though I don’t want to.

I raised my pricing about 6 months ago. I didn’t want to raise it. I did it because we want to start a family. Because I want my future child to have as much of my attention as humanly possible. Because every speaker at WPPI tells you to raise your prices, if you want to “make more and work less”.

They are wrong.

What they don’t tell you is that working less, sucks. And missing out on working with amazingly talented people, because they can’t afford you, sucks. Being expensive, just because you think you’re worth it, is ludicrous. It’s selfish. It’s egotistical. Because you know what? None of us are Coach. We’re not Ferrari, Prada, or even Tiffany & Co. We are not global. We are not even a household name in America, to our clients. We are artists for crying out loud. And you know what? We should be thankful people hire us. We get to do what we love and people give us money for it. It’s a blessing. I’m not saying you should give your talent away for peanuts, but if good, deserving people have to pass you by continually because of price—you’re doing it wrong.

This week, I lowered my prices back to what they were in 2011. That’s right. Pricing from TWO years ago. Because I, my friends, was doing it wrong. The design industry and photography industry is vain. We get stuck thinking that beauty should come at a cost. We think our talent is worth more than it is. I’m sorry, but that’s just not me, and I can’t fight it anymore.

Price yourself for the people you want to work with.

Edit: This post has created quite the stir, so let me make a mini public announcement! Please understand that this post is about my journey. I am in no way, shape, or form eluding to the fact that you should lower your prices just because I did. What I am saying, is that you should think twice about changing your pricing just because someone said you should. I think it goes without saying, but let me be very clear—there are many, many factors that go into pricing. Thinking about the type of client you want to attract is just one of several factors. Only you can determine what price works best for your business and the lifestyle you want to lead. Don’t let anyone else determine that for you—that was my point!

My clients are storytellers, and I guess in a way, so am I. I have told many stories over the years, but none of them quite like this one. People always ask me what I enjoy most about my work. My answer is always the same—it’s the people.

The first time I met Holly felt more like the fifth or sixth time. She has a contagious smile that could light the dimmest of rooms. And her personality wraps your heart like a warm blanket. She has a way of making you feel like you’ve known her forever.

She was standing quietly in the corner, wearing a neatly tucked scarf when I first met her. She adjusted it slightly as if to get it perfect. The moment she saw me, her face lit up. She quickly weaved her way through a mass of people and greeted me with a giant hug. She told me she felt like she already knew me, and that’s really all it took for me to feel like I knew her too.

In the spring of 2011, we set out to re-design her logo. It was the perfect client relationship. She was passionate about her work, she challenged me, and we gossiped about the leading man in her life. When our project came to a close we were both genuinely sad it was over. We are kindred spirits with our work. We have the same struggles, worries, and drive. We were both busy growing our businesses, but never too busy to keep in touch. We’d send small messages here or there. A design joke. A wish-you-were here. Encouragement. Our friendship was easy like that.

Then it happened.
My healthy, vivacious, sweet, young friend.
She had cancer, and it was Stage III.

Not long after the diagnoses an unexpected email came, but not just any email. A career defining one. One asking if I could keep a secret. If I could help. And just like that, I was no longer the storyteller.

I became part of the story.

I know a lot of people who get in this business for the money. For the awards. For the big titles and big offices. That’s not me. It’s never been me. I became a designer for the love of it. My mom’s suggestion, actually. She thought it would be something I would enjoy. But I did more than just enjoy it—I fell in love with it.

The best thing about design is how it can make a difference. How it can impact and change the lives of others. It stands for something. Simple design has always been the most beautiful to me. Ideas are complex. Life is complex. There’s a real art to making it all seem so effortless. After all, the simple things in life are often the best. Sadly, they are often the things taken for granted the most.

Walking. Loving. Living. Time.

The word was: Hero.

It’s such a small, understated word when you think about it. Just four little letters. I like to think it’s because heroes walk amongst us everyday in small packages. Just like Holly. Denise wanted Hero inscribed on her forever, as a memorial tattoo. She wanted the world to know how she felt about her daughter. I was the only living soul she shared this treasured secret with.

Holly’s logo had a greater story to tell—one of love and bravery.
And the ‘H’ from her logo, became the ‘H’ in Hero.

They say a picture is worth 1,000 words, but I think the picture I received on September 17 holds some sort of record. It was Holly and Denise, wearing their contagious smiles. Hero freshly penned on Denise’s wrist. It gave me goosebumps. Tears filled my eyes.

Holly punched cancer’s lights out. It’s true. Her family turned it into a shirt. She had 12 treatments in all and came back cancer free earlier this year. And that boy we used to gossip about? They married this summer. We drove through 5 states to see her wed. We celebrated love and life. We danced under the stars in the rain, sang our hearts out, and made lifelong friends. We met her family. I hugged Denise and saw her beautiful tattoo.

The best logos are the ones that mean something.