Portfolio- Stores
More Than Four Walls
Every location has an ecosystem.
When I walk into a building, I don't see square footage. I see movement. I watch how people naturally enter a space, where they hesitate, where they gather, where they speed up, and where they instinctively slow down.
Most people design stores around fixtures.
I design them around behavior.
Retail is only one layer. A successful location also has to work for employees, vendors, shipping, receiving, inventory, maintenance, events, marketing, future growth, and sometimes businesses that haven't even imagined themselves in the space yet.
That philosophy has followed me from retail stores to homes, investment properties, workspaces, studios, and community projects.
Good design isn't decoration.
It's building an ecosystem that naturally supports the life happening inside it.
Every Space Begins Empty
The first retail location was approximately 1,100 square feet.
Long before fixtures arrived, I laid out the entire store with blue painter's tape directly on the floor. Every rack, display, walkway, sightline, and conversation area was mapped before a single piece of furniture was installed.
I walked every aisle before it existed.
I stood where customers would stand.
I watched traffic patterns before there were people.
This process allowed me to evaluate customer flow, merchandising opportunities, flexibility for seasonal transitions, operational efficiency, and future growth before making permanent decisions.
The blue tape wasn't marking where furniture would sit.
It was mapping customer behavior.
That process became the foundation for every location I've designed since.
Seeing Potential Where Others Saw a Warehouse
When I first toured what would become Function & Fringe's flagship location, most people saw an aging warehouse that had sat vacant for years.
I saw something different.
Originally built as a CVS type pharmacy decades earlier, the building had evolved through multiple occupants over the years. Altogether, the structure encompassed roughly 7,500 square feet with upstairs offices overlooking the retail floor, warehouse space, shipping and receiving, shared walls with neighboring businesses, and a layout that reflected every chapter it had lived through.
Our footprint occupied approximately 3,500 square feet.
Most people saw an oversized warehouse.
I saw infrastructure.
The building already knew how to move merchandise.
It already knew how to support operations.
It simply needed someone willing to understand it instead of fight it.
Rather than asking how I could fit my business into the building...
I asked how the building could become an advantage for the business.
Creating the Opportunity
By the time I found this building, Function & Fringe had already outgrown its first location just four blocks away.
Finding a larger building wasn't the challenge.
Finding the right opportunity was.
The building had been vacant for years.
Instead of negotiating solely on rent, I built my presentation around value.
I proposed permanent improvements that would remain with the property long after my lease ended.
At the same time, I was willing to vacate another highly desirable downtown storefront, creating an affordable opportunity for another entrepreneur while activating a much larger vacant property.
The conversation became much bigger than square footage.
It became a discussion about long-term value creation.
That combination of timing, planning, investment, and vision allowed me to negotiate a lease of approximately $1 per square foot.
More importantly, it aligned everyone's interests.
If I succeeded, the building itself would become more valuable.
That was the promise.
Building an Ecosystem
Once the lease was signed, the building became a puzzle.
The goal wasn't simply to build a beautiful retail store.
The goal was to build a business.
Within our 3,500-square-foot footprint, we completely reimagined how the space functioned.
The open retail floor remained the customer experience.
Behind newly constructed walls, we created an integrated office, workshop, shipping, receiving, inventory, photography, and operational headquarters.
Rather than treating operations as something hidden behind the business, I designed the space so creativity, production, fulfillment, administration, merchandising, and retail could all work together as one connected ecosystem.
Throughout construction I coordinated contractors, navigated city permitting requirements, managed timelines, participated in the physical build-out, and continuously adapted the design as the project evolved.
Every wall served a purpose.
Every room solved a problem.
Every square foot earned its place.
Designing Around Human Behavior
Once the infrastructure was complete, merchandising became easy.
Because the building already knew where people wanted to go.
Wide sightlines encouraged exploration.
Warm materials softened the industrial shell.
Open gathering spaces naturally slowed customers down.
Furniture could move as inventory evolved.
The center of the store intentionally remained flexible.
One week it supported new merchandise.
Another week a workshop.
Another week a community gathering.
I wasn't designing a static store.
I was designing a space that could continually evolve without losing its identity.
That's the difference between decorating a building and designing an ecosystem.
The result wasn't simply a boutique.
It became a place people wanted to spend time—not simply shop.
Customers lingered.
They brought friends.
They attended events.
They came back because the experience felt different.
A Space Designed to Evolve
One of my goals when designing the location was flexibility.
The same floor that supported daily retail could easily transform into workshops, community gatherings, creative classes, holiday events, private shopping experiences, and collaborative programming.
Years after I left the space, the next tenants gradually began using it exactly the way I had envisioned.
Community workshops.
Creative classes.
Large open gathering spaces.
The design had anticipated those possibilities from the beginning.
The building simply needed someone ready to embrace them.
To me, that's one of the highest compliments a designer can receive.
When a space continues revealing new possibilities years after you've left, it was never designed for one tenant.
It was designed for people.
Leaving Places Better Than I Found Them
Growing up, my mom repeated one sentence over and over.
"Always leave a place the same or nicer than you found it."
Originally, it meant cleaning up after yourself at someone else's house.
Over time, it became one of the guiding principles of my career.
When our lease ended, we didn't simply move out.
We left behind a clean, improved, fully functional retail environment.
More importantly, I kept the promise I had made during lease negotiations.
Within roughly two months, the landlord had secured a new tenant.
The property that had remained vacant for years was now generating approximately double the rental income.
The new tenants inherited a flexible environment already capable of supporting retail, workshops, creative programming, and community events.
Years later, they naturally began using the space in many of the ways it had originally been designed.
The improvements stayed.
The investment stayed.
The opportunity stayed.
That's always been my philosophy.
Success isn't measured only by what you build while you're there.
It's measured by what continues creating value after you're gone.
Retail Doesn't End at the Register
Some of my favorite projects weren't the ones with the biggest budgets.
They were the ones that quietly became part of people's lives.
One example was a hand-designed map I created for our customers.
It wasn't intended to become artwork.
It was simply a thoughtful piece that reflected the community we were building together.
Months later, customers began sending photos of the map framed inside their homes.
Seeing something I created become part of someone's everyday environment was a reminder that thoughtful design doesn't end when a customer walks out the door.
That has always been the goal.
Not just to sell something.
To create something worth keeping.
Sharing What I've Learned
I don't believe expertise has much value if you keep it to yourself.
As my business grew, I was invited to speak at PoshFest, sharing strategies around merchandising, branding, photography, pricing, and building businesses that customers remembered—not simply online listings.
The invitation represented something I've believed throughout my career.
When you focus on creating genuine value, opportunities to teach naturally follow.
I've always enjoyed helping people understand not just what worked, but why it worked.
Whether mentoring entrepreneurs, presenting to an audience, collaborating with contractors, or working alongside corporate teams, I enjoy translating experience into ideas other people can immediately put into practice.
Selected Recognition
- Invited Speaker — PoshFest
- Featured in Redbook
- Featured on Good Morning America
- Featured in Business Insider
- Featured in Downtown Revitalization TV Series
- Custom designs worn at the Emmy Awards
What I Build
I don't believe great retail begins with fixtures or floor plans.
It begins with understanding people.
When you understand how customers move, how employees work, how communities gather, and how businesses evolve, the physical environment becomes a tool—not a limitation.
Every location I've designed has been guided by the same philosophy.
Create spaces that work beautifully today.
Leave them even more valuable tomorrow.
Because the best spaces don't simply support a business.
They become part of the community around them.
The walls matter.
But what happens inside them matters even more.
For all portfolios: The Archives