For the owners of Tres Jolie jewelry, Halloween is a symbol. It's an inside joke, but it's more than that. Sonya Stucki, Kristen Mikesell and Lori Boyd talk about October 31, 2002 with amusement, but also with pride.
Between the three of them, Stucki and Mikesell and Boyd have 13 kids. Going into it, they knew Halloween would be hectic, what with kids to be outfitted and treats to be provided for school parties.
But last Halloween was also the day that one of their largest jewelry orders was to ship. One thousand eight hundred bracelets, necklaces and earrings had to go out to Nordstrom stores in the Pacific Northwest.
So the three women met on Halloween morning, in Boyd's kitchen, as soon as they got their children off to school.
Stucki, Mikesell and Boyd are neighbors in a new subdivision in Alpine, Utah County. Their proximity to each other and to the elementary school came in handy that day, since all of them had to be at the school at various times to take photos of their kids in the Halloween parades and two of them were scheduled to lead games at various class parties.
So the door slammed hourly, as one woman dashed in and another dashed out. But it all went astoundingly well. Each mom made her school event and there were always at least two of them at Boyd's house, double-checking the orders and invoices as they packed.
Five other friends, all jewelry beaders, were also pressed into service on Halloween. A neighbor down the street, Jina Barney, hosted the beaders who made their own runs to the elementary school in between stringing furiously on 20 special orders. As each piece was finished, someone hustled it up to Boyd's house to be inspected and packed.
At 2 p.m., the Airborne Express woman showed up at Boyd's door and the three owners sent her away, laughing and shouting, "We aren't ready yet!" She came again at 3 and they handed her 13 huge boxes. They barely had time for a fast high five before Stucki and Mikesell raced off to be home when their kids got there. Then Boyd welcomed her oldest child back from school, costumed her two youngest, and hit the Wendy's drivethrough on her way to trick-or-treating at the grandparents' houses.
Ever since they got a contract with Nordstrom last May, the jewelry moms' days have evolved into an increasingly complex but nonetheless rewarding pattern. The pattern looks like this: motherhood, business, motherhood, collaboration, motherhood, design, motherhood, manufacturing and marketing and travel and motherhood and stringing beads far into the night. . . .
It was Stucki's doing really. She's the one who always needs to be creative. If she's not quilting, she's taking apart her grandmother's jewelry and restringing it, alternating antique crystal and stones with bits of silver. This is just who she is, she explains. Every time she shops for jewelry, she finds herself thinking how the piece could have been prettier.
Boyd was also on the lookout for something to make, not to mention an outlet for her marketing skills. Before she had children, Boyd was an account executive with Clinique. Nordstrom was one of her accounts. When she saw Stucki's jewelry, she says she knew what store ought to carry it.
The three women got to know each other working on church projects. They respected each other's competency. Mikesell and Boyd liked making variations on Stucki's designs and they all enjoyed running in and out of each other's houses and holding each other's kids. So they became business partners.
In the last year they've gone from making every piece themselves to contracting with 15 beaders. And now, just in the last week, Nordstrom buyers on the East Coast have asked to see this product that has sold so well in the West. Boyd sounds calm as she talks about the possibility: Their company could double in size twice in one year.
Boyd is in charge of procurement. Daily she's on the phone and nightly she gets e-mails and faxes from around the world. She buys Swarovski crystal beads from Austria and antique beads from all over Europe. Sterling beads, their own design, come from Indonesia.
Mikesell is in charge of the independent contractors. The beaders. So far, she's hired only neighbors and friends of friends, people the three owners can trust with tackle boxes containing thousands of dollars worth of beads.
Like the Tres Jolie owners, the beaders like working at home. Since beaders are paid by the piece, Mikesell makes sure each beader gets a mix of easy and difficult pieces. So far she says they've had enough orders to keep their beaders busy three weeks of the month, working about 20 hours a week. In the weeks before Halloween, however, the beaders worked twice as hard.
For the owners, of course, the pace doesn't let up. Two weeks ago they were at the Salt Lake Nordstrom for a trunk show. The following Monday, they met at Boyd's house to figure out what they'd sold and to gear up for the next series of trunk shows.
Typically, their business meeting also included entertaining Stucki's 4-year-old, Heather, and Boyd's 2-year-old, Kennedi. Boyd hires a nanny two days a week, but Monday is not one of those days. So that Monday, as they worked, the women pass out Graham Crackers and turned on a video and played pretend-phone-call-to-Grandma.
They met around a wood desk in Boyd's sunny study. Stucki and Mikesell counted stock while Boyd cuddled Kennedi. Their easy-going-Mom voices alternated with down-to-business voices. Mikesell: "How many red triple strands do you think we need?" Boyd: "I think they sell at the beginning, for the holiday parties. . . ." And maybe again at Valentine's Day? Discussion ensued.
Said Boyd, "The gray is a stunning piece that they can wear all the time. . . . We actually need 18. . . ." She stood and grabbed the phone, trying to reach someone in Portland to learn if the store is doing any media spots prior to the Tres Jolie trunk show there next weekend. If not, only one of them would go and Boyd needed to cancel an airline ticket.
Quickly they went over their schedule. Mikesell said, "OK, I do Friday at Klakamus. . . ." Boyd reminded the others that the weekend before Christmas they have six trunk shows scheduled in six different cities.
They'll sell 8,000 pieces of jewelry through Nordstrom this year. And of course they could easily sell even more next year, but they have to get busy, Mikesell explains. When you first get started, she says, you start from behind.
Other jewelry makers are already showing their line for next winter. The Tres Jolie women have only just chosen their colors for spring (citrine, smoky quartz, amethyst, peridot and — for accent — a bit of turquoise). Photos of the wax molds for their spring silver beads have not yet arrived for their approval.
They could panic, but they won't. These women are entrepreneurs, like their parents before them and like the men they married.
Stucki explains: Their husbands backed them financially and help with graphics and marketing. Boyd's father is their accountant. Mikesell's mother suggested the name for the company. Stucki's father, an engineer, just designed a new beading needle. Even Stucki's children, the oldest of the lot, cheer her on. They stick their school papers on her beading boxes, so she has a surprise in the evening when she settles into work.
Of the three partners, Stucki is probably the one who cares least about how fast the business is growing. She likes having something she can do at home, but she wouldn't make jewelry unless it still felt fun, she says. "It is such a diverse line," she says. So many patterns wait to be discovered.
Except wow, she sure was tired on Halloween. Stucki smiles, and her dimples show, even as she acts out how exhausted she was that night. She let her husband take the youngest ones out trick-or-treating, she says, and she just flopped into a chair by the front door, holding a big bowl of candy in her lap.
E-MAIL: susan@desnews.com