As I begin to tell this story I want to put out a big warning label that states I am a creative and visual designer by trade. I am certainly no writer nor pretend to be. As I have gone through life and held more sophisticated roles, my skillset in writing certainly has gotten better yet never reaching a highly regarded state. The sole purpose of this body of work is purely to tell my story as a small business entrepreneur in hopes that this is either motivating or entertaining for someone to read one day. At the very least, for selfish reasons, it is my first opportunity to try my hand at the written word instead of the computer-drawn graphic as expression. There will be very little editing of this raw file although I am sure that my amazing and great writer wife Jacquelyn will certainly make a few edits as she reads through for the first time. (she is probably editing this sentence as we speak).
Someone recently asked me why do I run my own business? This question was the origin that inspired me to write this story. When I stop and look back, I take myself back to my 13-year-old self. We lived with my mother, father and 2 brothers Nick and Joey (stay tuned for lots more on these 2 fellas). I had grown up shoveling the neighbor's driveways and helping out in any way I could to make a small buck. I remember back to the older lady on the corner who was my best customer. Whether it was shoveling, moving something, or any small task I was her go-to employee. In my eyes, I was ready for something a little more steady. So I chose to start a paper route. (yes everyone back then in 1994 we did have papers). The local newspaper in our neighborhood was called the Lombardian. I made a few dollars and delivered 2 times per week in the rain (paper was then put in a plastic bag), sleet or snow. I really enjoyed doing this job and taught myself at a very young age many entrepreneurial lessons. The biggest lesson I learned was that hard work was required. There were no set it and forget it Shopify accounts or prior possession of wealth from where we came from. You wanted to make money? It required hard work.
"THIS COMPUTER IS GOING TO BE BIG SOME DAY GRAMPS." -
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My family and I lived in Lombard but my grandparents lived in Berwyn and they had a screen printing and embroidery company in Cicero called Art Flo. My mom worked there and commuted back and forth from Lombard to Cicero each day. During the summer my grandma would watch us kids as my mom and Grandpa went to work each day. It was a great place to grow up. Grandma had this huge bungalow house that us Santo boys and all our cousins would run around and play games such as indoor baseball, knee hockey, and billiards. Grandma also lived right down the street from Proksa park in which all us cousins hung out and from our perspective we ran the park. No one did anything inside that park unless we knew about it. (At Least we thought that in our minds). After my year of running a successful paper route, my mom let us know that this year us boys were going to be able to go to summer camp in Berwyn. This was a huge deal as we didn't exactly have any disposable income for camps. My mom approached me and explained that I could A. Go with Nick and Joey to camp or B. she would ask Uncle Mike if I could help around the shop. I had spent lots of time in the shop playing hide and go seek on the second floor where all the inventory was kept and fantasizing about how Al Capone himself had once rushed down the metal-plated tiny stairwells to the back of the alley when the CPD had attempted to bust him at his hideout / old bank. We told so many stories with our family about who owned the building before Grandpa and how he managed to build this empire. Since my Grandfather was my hero the decision was simple for me. I would choose to go to work with him instead of enjoying the summer at camp. Every day I would go into the office with my mom. They had lots of odd jobs for me that I took seriously but always found time for fun. I loved that business was a game to me, I loved the people like Andy who ran shipping and receiving and would always take me under his wing and teach me things. Mostly I loved being around my grandpa and listening to him teach me about life, business and one day being a husband and the leader of the family. I was doing a bit of everything. Counting and recounting inventory for Aunt Connie was a job that seemed to have no end. Back then they used a ledger book and pencil to understand what was in stock. Andy and I would put on music, sip Arizona iced tea and count endless amounts of t-shirts. 1 dozen, 2 dozen, tree (3) dozen XL’s white Gildan 5000.. and Andy would record it in the ledger. Lunch on Austin Boulevard was always a treat. Andy would take the orders from the girls upfront and we would jet off to our favorites. Lucky Dog, Buona Beef, Freddies we had everything. This was fast delicious food. Growing up I never got to eat much of this stuff. It was a working man's fuel and boy was it delicious. Andy would take back the big bag full of steaming salty french fries or crispy crusted pizza squares and divvy out to everyone that ordered. The break room would fill up with noise and laughter as each family member would ask “where is my order? What no change? Come on 10.00 for a dog and fries? You 2 making a business out of this or what? I'm gonna go work for you 2.” We would smile at each other and take the first bite. After we finished lunch I would be called “next door” as Art Flo was basically 2 separate buildings that connected in between by “the alley”. This alley had some kind of roof on top which always slightly leaked and was really cold in the winter. Can you catch the belt for a while “said Uncle Bill”. Yeah, of course, I've done this before. For the rest of the day, blazing hot garments would poor out of both sides of the belt at rocket-ship speeds. You would be slipping left and right to grab 2 at a time on placing them separately on 2 folding tables. Grandpa would walk by and motion “you gotta place them on top of each other perfectly so they can be folded”. I would gaze up at him thinking in my mind, how do you place them perfectly when they are falling onto the floor as 4 come off the belt per second. I would nod and say “yes, of course, gramps I got this”.
I learned all facets of the business working at the shop. Grandpa would teach me how to check in the UPS shipments each day, load the RC cola machine, pack up garments to be shipped. You name it... I learned it. The business seemed exciting especially when our local sports team would win a championship. When the GOAT Michael Jordan won the Threepeat I was stationed at the end of the belt performing the finest dance the industry had seen. Box, and Bag and Fold and Box and Bag,Box, and Bag and Fold and Box and Bag. I would sing this song as I worked furiously to fold, bag, and box as many dozens of licensed champion t-shirts into a box as fast as I could and slap that greasy, smelly brown box tape over the top and holler "got another 72 to go!" Every day was a new job, new artwork, and new garments. Out of all the roles at the shop the one that I found the most interesting was the art department. I would sit for hours and watch the artists create pen drawn vellums and shoot screens. Photoshop 1 had just come out and there was constant chatter around if this computer program could do what an artist has always done. I was fascinated by how the separate screens (colors) came together to make a print. I was also fascinated by the computers. They were Apple computers and from what I saw was the future of the world. I worked the entire summer to finally purchase a white clunky apple laptop equipped with Adobe illustrator 1. This tool had mesmerized me and I would spend every waking moment watching tutorials on youtube and reading every single help article Adobe had. One day after my shift I was sitting in the front at one of the desks working on my brand new laptop. Grandpa walked by me and asked why I spent so much time “playing” with this thing. I asked Grandpa if he had any apple stock. I said this device will completely change the world and that he should buy apple stock. He replied, “Rich we are Italian we don't buy stock we make things.” From this point on I was obsessed with making. I would build amatuer designs in illustrator and show them to the artists. They would say “nice job” and always give positive feedback on my poorly built initials or last name in graffiti with the 6 lines S. As I continued to doodle on all of my books at school I would then convert those drawing to vector on my laptop at home. The ideas seemed never-ending and I could float between many concepts at a time. I don't know if there was much raw talent that I was pulling from. I felt unlike a natural-born swimmer or football player but more of an underdog that would put in long long hours and document every single finding. I had stacks of note pads of Illustrator tricks and tutorials. Folders upon folders of vector clip art and distressing I would collect like they were priceless artifacts.. knowing that there was something bigger I would need these for.
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SUMMER ENDS -
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Summer has come to an end and it's back to Glenbard East High. I would continue to spend more time drawing in my books than actually reading or using them to study. Luckily my mom always enjoyed my drawings and was always there to jab a compliment to them. Since I would be in school during the day I now needed to find an after school job that would continue to satisfy my need to earn. Growing up it seemed we were always struggling financially. For a family that only had 1 car and lived very modestly, I could never understand it. I put together that the majority of the arguments my parents had were focused in some way about money. In my mind, I had vowed to always make enough and spend less than I made. I would never allow money to be such an overarching topic of defeat. This drew me to my first official job. I put 2 and 2 together as I took a deep look in the mirror. I was Italian of course, loved all things Salami and pasta and had a few years under the watch of a US military chef Grandpa Dastice working in the basement around holidays shucking clams, slicing dried sausage and boiling al dente pasta to perfection. So the most likely place for me to work would be Frankie's Deli in Yorktown mall parking lot. Frank Sr himself took an immediate liking to me as I was eager to learn, polite and cheap. He threw me in under the wings of his oldest son Frank Jr, store manager and a young red-headed kid in which I would be joining his team. At first, my job was to listen to call-outs from others dealing with the customers. “1 Lb of pasta salad” I would grab the clear plastic container and fill it to 1lb. Hit the scale, print label and hand to Frankie. I caught on quickly and even started to get to know the customers. In no time I was dealing directly with the customer taking the order and bringing all of the delicious home-prepared items to the counter for my buddy Edwin to ring up. I learned to stock the shelves, mop the floor before closing and most importantly everything about WWE wrestling. Frank Sr loved wrestling and had it on every night. As we became closer and closer he would try more and more wrestling moves on my thin 15-year-old body. I learned exactly what an armbar was as he caught me going around the second aisle and always dumped my lifeless body into the lupini beans. I loved the deli atmosphere. I worked nights, and weekends chatting with the customers and slinging plump green olives. I also loved their food! So much that every time I would scoop a spoon full of the fresh crisp seafood salad or slice a paper-thin imported prosciutto I would slide a small slice into my paw and toss it up in the air and catch it with a salivating mouth. (this would later get me in more and more trouble). I moved through many roles at Frankie's. I learned how to case sausage by the pound, to make pasta salad fresh, stack lasagna onto always fresh gravy. I truly enjoyed the craft of fine food.. So much that every day we would be allowed ½ sandwich and ¼ lb of the side for lunch each day. Now because I was such a fan of the food I would make mine special. Footlong fresh french bread, provolone cheese, red gravy, and sliced turkey breast. This sandwich would completely enrage Frank Sr and he would go crazy every time I made it. I guess at that age for me it was half rebellious and half ignorance as I could not understand why this was such an issue. Oh and every night when I went home my clothes stink of deli meats. I had learned what I needed to from this role - The organization, craft, nostalgia, simplicity and most importantly I made and saved some good cash. I was 15 and my grandfather agreed to give me a loan to buy my first car. I had the downpayment from the money I earned at the deli to purchase my first vehicle. A 1987 blue Oldsmobile cutlass supreme. The perfect car for dumping bodies (mobster joke) or my choice of adding 15-inch subwoofers to slam against anyone who dares sit in the back seat.
CARS -
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As I turned 16 my friends and I were all about cars and freedom. The 2 words seemed to sync so nicely. I followed a group of those freedom fighters over to a new role at Woodfield Chevy detail shop. It seemed to all fit together. My best buddies worked at the place, we loved cars and could wash our own every day and keep them clean and it was a fun place to be with music blasting and corvettes lined up to drive around the lot. Woodfield Chevy was a great place but it was a far commute. I had now purchased my pride and joy. A 1992 Ford Mustang GT 5 speed red with black racing stripes. Driving from Lombard to Schaumburg was putting some serious miles on this baby and I was out to look for something closer. A second cousin was a salesman at Heritage Cadillac in Lombard. This was a much better drive for me as I lived about 3 blocks from the dealership. I started out as a night porter working after school moving cars from service to sales or pulling up used cars. After my bosses realized my skillset in washing and detailing cars I was later shifted into the wash department at Heritage.
After learning the ropes at Woodfield Chevy and Heritage my entrepreneurial spirit leads me to secure a deal with a smaller mechanic shop in which I would be the in house detail shop. We would wash each car after it had gone through service as well as offer full detailing to all of the customers. This venture would be where my middle brother Nick would join me in business as the first of at the time this is written over 20 years working together. We did some decent business Nick and I but as a whole, this was a much better side gig than a full-time job.
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UNION MAN -
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At this point, I was just about to graduate high school and really had no idea what I wanted to do. A family friend was running an electrical company called Gibson Electric and offered me a job as a box truck driver. I would look back on this experience as being the most unrelated to entrepreneurship yet the most fun I would ever have at a job. I remember my mindset of very little responsibility, stress or weight. At 9 am we met at the Oakbrook office. Hoe Train (yes that was his name) the captain of our 15-foot box truck and I would load for the day the equipment and supplies and head off to Dunkin. “A large coffee and an everything bagel with cream cheese please.” We would jump on the 290, crank up the Mancow morning show and sip and bite at will. I believe this was where I became deeply in love with coffee. I loved sitting in that truck and enjoyed the traffic. We had somewhere to be but really to us nowhere to be. We punched in and was on our route. No reason to scream at the drifting car beside us or honk at the traffic. We were right on track and we would get there when we got there. After driving the truck for a few years our friend at Gibson suggested I join the union. Local 701 was a promising career for a high school graduate who came from nothing. Luckily my Aunt Rona knew the head of the union and I was in! Thanks, Aunt Rona! There would be a 3-year apprenticeship and during that time you would also be working. I was not very fond of the schooling part but the hourly wage certainly overshadowed the negatives. I was cast to work at a bunch of great electrical outfits and learned a ton as the apprenticeship went on. I learned that if you couldn't show up to work on time you couldn't do the job. That 5 min early was on time and anything else was late. I learned to always have good tools and innovate. I was taught systems and how everything if engineered correctly could be performed by anyone. What I took from the union would be the backbone of the architecture for building small businesses. Although I was learning at an all-time high my free time was spent designing logos. Remember that white apple laptop, it was where I spent all of my time. On a vacation to Acapulco Mexico, I met a guy named Chris Martinez. Chris was an Illinois State trooper but had an insanely creative and marketing mind. When we returned from the trip we remained very close friends. HItting up local bars and talking about unique ideas to make money, meet girls and market. I had shared with Chris my background in working at my grandfather's shop and how I loved to design. Not long after Chris and a few friends went on spring break vacation together. It was Panama city beach Florida and everyone was either from New York or California. There was no one or nothing that represented who we were…. From the midwest, Chicago, the home of house music, the second city and a bunch of badass mother fuckers. It was on this trip that we decided that our brand, a lifestyle brand would be called Chii. For Chicago of course but not a state but a mindset.
CHII IS BORN -
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When I wasn't working my fingers were stuck to that white apple laptop. Creating ideas, developing garment styles and building tech packs. I would show the designs to Chris and some friends and they would comment on what they liked and didn't. We had an unofficial focus group constantly at our disposal. Once we landed on a few good designs it was back to grandpa’s shop to start manufacturing. The first design was a simple Chicago star split in half with the letters CHII stuck in between on black long sleeve t-shirts. As I write this story years later it is very gratifying to know that the same guy who printed that shirt all those years ago today works in our shop. So, its official, we now have a brand. Now what? As a bunch of young wild guys, our weekend pass time was going to nightclubs to listen to our favorite music. We loved deep dirty loud house music and the sounds united us in a way nothing else could. As we grew in popularity with the house music scene we started selling those long sleeves to friends we had grown up with or met in the bar scene. We would sell 1 and make 2 and on and on it went. The logo CHII seemed to catch on quickly as the people we would meet felt the same lack of connection with the coasts as we did. As the product spread so did our popularity amongst the club scene and its patrons. We used the brand as an excuse to get together, go out, listen to great music and of course, have a few drinks (understatement). As we moved through our favorite clubs the bartenders or managers would make comments. Are you guys a gang or something? Gang, I thought? I don’t think so I never heard of an Italian gang but I guess we were pretty multicultural. Chris was a little ahead of us and had a pretty sizable following of young like-minded people that loved music, going out and having fun. Chris was the center of attention at many of these venues and always rolled in a huge group. We had been hanging out at a small bar called Spoon on Sundays just because Chris knew the manager. It was a really nice little bar and we liked having the place to ourselves. Since it wasn't very busy Chris hinted to Ralphy “what if we were to help bring in people”. For some time Chris and then partner Carl started bringing people into Spoon on Sundays pretty quickly. After the party really started to take off Chris approached me to become a partner or “promoter” and bring in our Chii crew. That term would still stick with us today. As Chris assembled many different facets of the event such as the resident DJ, bartenders, dancers, doormen and everything in between Spoon become the industry's premier Sunday night party. Here was the team and I know I am leaving people out so sorry for that. We hosted local sport team captains weekly. Musicians, celebrities and industry people that didn't have to wake up for work Monday morning and if they did it wasn't going to be pleasurable. The night became such a big deal that we had to create an “after-party” to house the people that we're unable to get into Spoon and most importantly to continue the party. We were the undisputed kings of Sunday nights for a very long time and the venture became a very lucrative business. The success of this event would lead into the development of our entertainment arm “Famiglia Entertainment” and propel our team to throw parties all over the city and internationally. The hook was that Chii would bring fashion and brand recognition and Famiglia would be the operator. This combination was extremely successful and we learned an incredible amount about running a business. The most important trait that I took from the club business was defining hospitality. Those A list celebrities continued to frequent our venue because we knew how to treat them. Everything was done to ensure they were comfortable and felt at home. I learned how to always deliver on my promises and take deep care of the people that came out to see us. Whether that was running outside to get someone out of line, having a table reserved, or taking time to buy someone a shot when our team was there everyone felt like they belonged. There is far more to this chapter but let's skip back over to the brand.
Chii was being sold most importantly from the trunks of our cars but we had now established a few wholesale doors. The first and probably most important one was Another Level. AL was run by a guy named Denis and was always extremely supportive of our movement and believed in the mission. That was pretty awesome of Denis! Did I mention that I still had a job as an electrician working everyday 7-3:30. Yes, looking back it was pretty crazy especially Monday mornings those were really tough but I carry around the proof that it is possible, especially in the beginning of starting a business to do both. I hear so often people stuck between quitting their job and starting a business and my suggestion is always to do both. Work double as hard until the decision is no longer a question. That time was now for me. Chii was selling across the country into a nice handful of boutiques and most importantly we supported our wild lifestyle through our Sunday party + a few other events we would throw per month. It was time to take the first giant risk and create a home base for our enterprises to come together.
THR3EE BOUTIQUE -
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We signed a lease at 1632 W Division St. in a 1,000 square foot retail location in Wicker Park. The idea here was this location would most importantly serve as a flagship store for the brand Chii then the office in the back of the store would be our design center and house the team that worked at Famiglia Entertainment who worked on creating flyers and posting pictures from last night's events. We did a ton of incredible things in that little store in 2005. There were many concepts that were clearly ahead of its time. One in particular that stood out was that inside Thr3ee not only could you purchase ready to wear items but we also partnered with a transfer company (transfers are ink on paper that would be heat pressed to a garment) to create a proprietary ink we called Low Bleed in which customers could choose from a book of designs and mix and match them into different silhouettes. The crazy designs people would come up with were just incredible and 1 of a kind. I mentioned before that Nick had been involved in working in our companies since the detail shop. Creating these custom garments in the back office at the store became a full-time job. Our youngest brother Joey and friend Dave who had a technical machinery understanding was called in to be the press operator (this talent would shine later on). The 2 companies worked very well in unison for many years. We traveled the world throwing parties and showing the brand. We enjoyed complimentary hotel rooms set on beautiful golf courses and high rises. This part of the journey was a wild ride and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. Through our travels, we created some really amazing art and collaborated with really incredible designers. There was one designer in particular named Rick who still today I believe has such an amazing raw talent that would produce iconic images for the collections.
With these iconic graphics, there was one issue that we were constantly trying to solve. How do we manufacture products in an innovative way we wanted. Every time I would create a new design on that white apple laptop, the next step was to have it made. I was constantly met with the no’s. No, we can't print that big. No, we don't use water-based or print over seams or really anything unique. At that time in 2007, everyone was doing huge prints and rhinestones across the entire hood. We tried importing the products but we certainly had no clue what we were doing. Every item that came back had one sleeve 3 inches longer than the other and the print always sucked. While Joey was stuck in the backroom at our retail store he was also out visiting our supply chain. Joey would even be allowed to help print at certain shops such as Dominick’s. Dominick showed Joey around a small press and he immediately picked it up like he was born with squeegee hands. I was getting a little burnout from the club promoting business and really wanted to figure out what our next move was. Since we had played hide and go seek in a print shop when we were kids it dawned on us that we could probably figure this printing thing out for ourselves. We would be answering a problem that was defeating us and there was even the thought that if we had extra capacity we could make products for local businesses like restaurant uniforms. Maybe the very same clubs that we were promoting at we could make the uniforms. I mean we were always making special event Chii items with the bar branding on it.
Chii was the word that described who we were. It was where we were from and represented the music we loved. It meant our wild, multicultural family that was somewhat un-identifying with NY or LA, but still in a big city.
Chii the brand became Chii Clothing Culture.
Thr3ee was named for the three C’s in Chii Clothing Culture. (although everyone thought it was because we were 3 Santo brothers)
Culture Studio was created by borrowing the last word from the brand's name Culture and adding the description of what the company was. A design studio for the brand. We also felt that making the first few garments would be incredible but after that printing hundreds (now millions today) of garments would lose its luster and it had to be “all about the Culture” or we would never make it.
CULTURE STUDIO -
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January 2008 we signed a lease at 2405 and 2407 S Oakley. We would put the office on the 05 side including Familgia and Chii team members and Joey’s production equipment on the 07 side. Nick would stay back and hold down the fort at Thr3ee while Joey and I took on the new venture and pumped the store with fresh threads on a weekly basis. It certainly wasn’t an easy feat to attempt to put commercial machinery in what would be considered a residential 900 square foot retail space but we placed the rotary machine in the front and piped out the dryer through the AC unit and even put the darkroom inside the bathroom. After the main items were set up we realized that there was a whole other side to the business which was reclaiming the screens after they were used. Luckily there was a creepy basement below that was barely high enough to fit the washout booth and power washer. I am pretty sure it was haunted as well, Cheeto can vouch for that. As ugly and unconventional as it was we were set up for production.
I often look into my archives and see some of the items we made and still to this day with the biggest and best machinery I am in awe of what we did with an 8 color manual press called the Chameleon. Right from the start, Joey recruited his first mate our cousin, Dominic. Joey and Dom would print for hours and hours each day and on weekends to meet the Chii demand and push the boundaries. By that time we also had recruited pretty much all our friends to be “promoters” or work in the business in some manner. There were constantly different team members working from the space on our different ventures. There was Chris of course, Carl, Luca, Quade, Mikey, many of the girls that worked as either dancers, bartenders, waitresses, you name it. There was also Carlo. Carlo was a childhood friend and between promoting at our parties and missing work also became a staple Chii member and the official 4th brother. After attempting to wash screens in the dungeon, print with Joey and Dom on the chameleon and catch shirts off the belt Carlo settled in quite nicely answering the phones and seemingly had a real knack for sales. As I mentioned before the initial concept was that we would learn this craft and make products for our brand. If there was to be extra capacity we could then sell our products and services to local businesses.
I will pause this story here as we are currently living out the development of the Culture Studio empire. I do promise to continue writing and will pick back up in 2008 when CS began. Thank you for spending some time reminiscing.