Category: nostalgia

creative process, creativity, inspiration, love, New York City, nostalgia

Beginning: Building a Space from Love – Heidi’s House by the Side of the Road

Christa Avampato

Front view of Heidi's
“Here are your waters and your watering place. Drink and be whole again beyond confusion.” ~ Robert Frost, seen on the chalk board over the bar at Heidi’s House by the Side of the Road

I went to Heidi’s House by the Side of the Road last week with a small group of friends. It’s not an actual house but an adorable niche that serves tremendous wine and some of the most delicious food I’ve had in a long time. Every nook and cranny of Heidi’s in jam-packed with love, care, and concern. The attention to detail is extraordinary. Heidi herself made sure of it.

Even the name has a heart-felt meaning. In the bathroom there is a needle point that states, “Let me live in my house by the side of the road and be a friend to a man.” It’s a quote by Sam Walter Foss. I asked Heidi why that quote means so much to her that she’d name her business after it. She told me, “It’s the quote on my father’s grave stone.” Gulp. I got goosebumps.

It got me thinking about how important it is to put love into our endeavors, how much of a difference that makes to the people who get to share in your creation. We taste love in food, we hear it in music, and we see it in art. It has this unmistakable and yet unexplainable quality that is universal.

Take a spin over to Heidi’s and see what I mean. Then get cracking on your own creation of love, and let others share in it the way Heidi does.

business, marketing, nostalgia, product, simplicity

Step 277: Mad Men Commercials – A Celebration of the Quality We’re Looking For

Christa Avampato

Have you seen these retro vignette commercials interspersed throughout Mad Men? I was curious about them so I did a little hunting around. The Smith Winter Mitchell Agency, the agency featured in the commercials, is the brainchild of Rocket XL in New York. These vignettes showcase how a fictional 1960s ad agency, SmithWinterMitchell, develops campaigns for six iconic Unilever brands (Dove, Breyers, Hellmann’s, Klondike, Suave Hair, and Vaseline), combining witty historic parody with modern ad footage. They also showcase these iconic brands and celebrate their heritage on a hit show that is culturally and contextually relevant.

The artistic direction of the commercials is interesting, thought there was something else about them that grabbed my attention. I was drawn to the risk that Rocket XL took by building story with their commercials. They didn’t see this campaign as 30 – 60 seconds spots that happen in isolation. They gave the audience credit for their intelligence; they trusted us to connect the dots across the decades, as well as from Sunday night to Sunday night. They have a distinctive look and style that make them memorable, but they don’t take themselves too seriously, allowing us to laugh a little at the ad guys we spend an hour with every Sunday night.

Our country is craving simplicity in the midst of this economic downturn. Somehow, we glorified complexity for far too long and it got us into dangerous territory. We lost our way when we started to throw around phrases like derivative pricing and sub-prime mortgages, without fully realizing how low their downside could take us. Rocket XL is portraying simple products with a simple message – they have stood the test of time and they’re still here with us with the same quality they’ve always had. Sounds simple, but it’s hard to fulfill on.

On the surface, these are just commercials for ice cream a shampoo. But they’re making us smile for a much more profound reason – we’re looking for reliability and stability in a time when all the ground beneath us is so uncertain. These products have stood the test of time and they’re proud of that. I’m not suggesting that a Klondike bar can take all of our cares away. I am suggesting that products and people alike should flaunt what they’ve got – and if what you’ve got is a track record and history of fulfilling the brand promise you made, then that is no small feat.

Learn more about Rocket XL and they’re cool brand blueprint here.

books, children, education, learning, nostalgia, school

Step 245: Back to School and Life Lessons

Christa Avampato

“The difference between school and life? In school, you’re taught a lesson and then given a test. In life, you’re given a test that teaches you a lesson.” ~ Tom Bodett, American author and humorist

I love school. Weez is always kidding me that if I could find a way to be a student for the rest of my life and get paid for it, I’d do it. In truth, I kind of do that now. I’m an information junkie. Lots of data served up with a heaping side of industry reports please. All industries welcome. My education has followed me into the workplace and then follows me home, to the gym, out to dinner. Every experience become an opportunity to learn – and become writing material.

I went to my local CVS yesterday and nostalgically walked through the school supply aisle. Advertisements abound all over the city, in every retail window, saying “stock up for school here.” School is part of why I love the Fall – back to school might just be my favorite holiday. Everything is shiny, new, and full of promise. Sometimes people ask me how I did so well in school and managed so many extracurriculars. Some people even warned me that I was taking on too much, that I couldn’t possibly get it all done. People are funny and they project.

To be sure, I studied a lot. Kid geniuses really fascinate me because I wasn’t someone who just knew everything the moment I read it. I am a really good student, work very hard, and have a dangerously high level of curiosity. Truly, I can ask “why?” until the cows come home and never be satisfied. (Ask my mom.) I had to study and practice all the way through business school. I study and practice now, and love it. I learn the lesson, really learn it, get the test, pass. Simple. Linear. Logical. It’s true of school, and mostly true of work, too, so long as I’m working for someone else.

This whole paradigm changes, as Tom Bodett explains so brilliantly, when we leave behind school and work and just have to live in the world. Or when we start our own business or some kind of personal endeavor. Relationships of every kind fall into this class, too. You can’t study or think your way through them. You really do have to give it a whirl, maybe screw up, maybe succeed, and take note of the outcome so the next time around you can improve. It’s not fair, I know, but that’s life. You take the test, hand it in, and then figure out how it shoulda, coulda, woulda been done if you had known better. But you didn’t, and you can’t, so you just show up and do your best. Welcome to a life of improv.

A lot of my life now is about being tested and then receiving the lesson. Yoga, Innovation Station, my writing. I can study and read about these subjects all I want (and I do!), but eventually I know I’ve got to take off the training wheels, go careening down the road, learn from my mistakes, get up, and try again. I didn’t know anything about social media 3 years ago, so I started this blog. I didn’t know how to write a book, so I wrote Hope in Progress. I didn’t know how to swim so I jumped in the pool (with a lifeguard nearby) and paddled around. That’s life, too – try your luck and see how it goes.

I’ll be thinking about this idea over the next few weeks as I see the school buses become part of our traffic patterns and kids skipping home with backpacks and lunch boxes in tow. We’re all learning – students of school just have the benefit of a better sequence of events than students of life.

art, New York City, nostalgia, theatre

Step 240: Spiderman the Musical and Nostalgia for the Theatre

Christa Avampato

Yesterday I was in midtown to get a pie as a gift for my hosts this weekend. My pal, Dan, and I are heading to Philly for a weekend – our third long weekend of travel together. (The other two were to Portland, Maine and Nashville.) We’re staying with Dan’s friends and I’m bringing a pie from The Little Pie Company as a gift for them. I went to college in Philly and haven’t been back in a number of years. Dan has never been. I’m excited to see what we find – Philly holds a mix of emotions and experiences for me, some of the very best and very worst of my life.

As I headed back to the subway from The Little Pie Company, I walked by the theatre where Spiderman the Musical will open on November 14th. The stagehands were outside the stage door having lunch. I asked them if they were working on Spiderman, they said yes, and asked if I’d like a tour of the theatre. I gladly accepted.

It’s been a while since I’ve stood on a Broadway stage. It used to make me so nervous. I’d do whatever I could to avoid standing on the stage – I have had a life-long struggle with stage fright. Or at least I used to. Today standing on the Spiderman stage didn’t make me nervous at all. It kind of felt like going back to my hometown after being away for a long time. Some things were different and all in all it felt very familiar.

I know and understand all of the reasons I stopped managing Broadway shows. I’ve never considered going back. That was a chapter of my life that I’m so glad I had, and I’m so glad I left when I did. It was still the best business training I’ve ever had, and I was so fortunate to have that experience. But for just a split second, I imagined what it might be like to go back. I could feel the exhilaration of starting something new and unique, helping bring a new vision to delighted audiences. Maybe there’s a way to weave it back into my life, not in the same way as I did all those years ago, but in some new form that better fits my life and outlook today. I’ll mull that over and let you know what I find. I find it ironic that I would have this experience just as I’m heading to Philly, where I first considered a career in professional theatre, and on the same day that I received an invitation in the mail for a New York City theatre event sponsored by my Philly alma mater. Universe, what are you trying to tell me?

For the record, Spiderman is going to be a crazy, wild production. It will be unlike anything we’ve ever seen. That’s all I’m saying so as to protect the artistic integrity and the magic of life on the Great White Way. Grab some tickets before they’re gone!

growth, happiness, history, nostalgia, work

Step 235: Insights from a Little Trip Through My Archives

Christa Avampato

This weekend I needed to put together a portfolio of sorts. I started digging through my archived files relating to different projects I’ve worked on since graduating from business school 3 years ago. A few ideas hit me as I sorted through the many documents I have saved, and all of the personalities that had a hand in crafting them:

1.) The breadth of work that came my way once I entered the innovation field still knocks me out and makes me feel incredibly lucky. From re-designing a toy store floor to developing a cost-neutral social media system to track credit card fraud practice, the ride has been anything but boring.

2.) I have had the great good fortune to work alongside some incredible talent. I owe them a big thank you for everything I’ve learned from them.

3.) How some less-than-talented people climb the ladder, particularly in competitive cultures during a massive recession, still astounds me. My friend, Wayne, always says that a chapter in his corporate autobiography will be entitled “Cruella De Ville and Other Crazies I’ve Survived”. I’ve also seen a lot of wonderful people let go during a time when companies should have been thanking their lucky stars to have such incredible talent among their ranks.

4.) The amount of personal and professional growth is evident when I view the spectrum of my work as a whole. From the data analysis to the strategic planning to the execution design, I could see my strengths growing and multiplying throughout the paper trail. I winced a little looking at my early work after b-school – it was a good reminder that we all start somewhere and we’re all capable of growth, many times in leaps and bounds!

5.) The projects that I felt the most passion for weren’t always the most successful or the ones that earned my paycheck. The pro-bono work and the projects we couldn’t get funded were the ones that really made me come alive. Funding within large companies is an odd thing – newness and risk are not things that large companies easily take on. And yet, those are the very ideas that have the greatest upside. Playing it safe carries its short-term rewards for sure, but it doesn’t hurt to take a peek over the horizon toward a tomorrow further down the line.

As I look back on my body of work, it’s always the things I did against all odds that brought me the greatest happiness.

business, nostalgia, Starbucks, tradition

Go to the mattresses through your roots

Christa Avampato

Starbucks, the king of coffee, is in the midst of learning a very hard lesson, and we should all learn right along with them. Dazzled by the all the glitz of selling media and other brand extensions in their stores, they let go of what made them great: the best cup of coffee in town. They took a humble commodity and made it a fashion accessory, a brand someone can hang his hat on. And while they were off doing exclusive album releases and making deals with Apple, the enemies were encroaching: McDonald’s and DD being the two most noticeable ones in my neck of the woods. Howard Schultz said on Wednesday, “We are going to fight to the death and not allow any company to take our (coffee authority) position away from us.” They’re moving forward by going back.

Losing focus on what initially brought success is a dangerous trade-off. To be honest I can’t think of a single example of a company that moved successfully moved away from its roots. I also can’t think of single person that fits that mold either. Where we come from and where we initially place our stake in the ground is a critical consideration because everything else we ever become largely builds on that decision. It’s the only way to be genuine. It’s where our passion and creative sensibilities are born.

Thank goodness for the return of Howard Schultz. I am a fan of the company and I was growing a bit sad seeing the baristas fumble around to deliver an “okay” coffee drink. I used to be one of them – as a recent undergrad I worked at a Starbucks in Georgetown part-time to make ends meet. I was pleasantly surprised on Monday afternoon when I stopped into one of my local stores and was greeted with, “Here’s your grande chai. Let me know if it’s not perfect – I’ll remake it for you.” I think they’re successfully finding their way back to their roots.

The photo above was taken by By Marcus R. Donner, Reuters.

books, nostalgia, school, student

A little fall of rain

Christa Avampato

There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort. ~ Jane Austen


Right now I’m reading Frank McCourt’s Teacher Man, and I’ve just finished watching the 5th season of The Gilmore Girls on DVD, both of which are conjuring up old memories for me. All this, coupled with the rain, and there’s no way to avoid nostalgia, and maybe a bit of regret. 

While my student days were less than ideal for a whole host of reasons, I still miss the thought of being a student, of dedicating my days to reading, to being involved in the school community with an entire world of people my age just outside my door. Though I studied so hard, a part of me wishes I had worked even harder, that had been more concerned with reading the classics than making sure I was doing everything right. I wish that I could have worried less about money, making friends, finding my calling – I wish I could have worried less, period. 

As a kid, and particularly as a student, I used to dread the rain. I always felt the world knew more than I did, and by raining it was signaling to me that bad news was on the way. I hated sloshing through it with a backpack that was much too heavy, trying to shield myself with an umbrella that would invariably be blown inside-out by some nasty gust.

As an adult, I have come to love the rain, even wishing for it when we’ve had too many sunny days in a row. I love the sound it makes on rooftops and sidewalks, love the booming of thunder, and the rush of a strong wind. I love the idea of washing away the happenings of the day before, and the day before that. I love the cleaning feeling it leaves the world, just after it’s subsided. These are days I hole up inside my tiny apartment and dream, and remember.