Ugly Talk, Beautiful Truths: A look at the Art Hustle in Chicago
Let’s be honest—business isn’t always beautiful. Especially in the arts.
People love to say they support small brands, independent artists, and original ideas… until it’s time to pay an invoice. Or show up. Or even hit reply. (Ghosting is a genre now, apparently.)
It’s something I’ve experienced personally.
Before Bob and I built the businesses we have now, we had one that crashed and burned hard—so hard, we filed bankruptcy before we turned 30. (We like to think of it as an early-life clearance sale.)
Bob and I had to close our first business. It was a tough time, but we made it through
Even Letty Sparrow—something I started out of love for local fashion and creative talent—has its moments. I’ve poured my heart into connecting artists with the audiences they deserve… and still, some days, it feels like shouting into a beautifully designed void.
So yeah. I know ugly.
But I also know what keeps us going. The thrill of making something. The joy of seeing someone wear a piece they feel powerful in. That moment someone walks past your booth, your rack, your gallery wall—and gets it.
The panelists are ready to dish. Join us for an evening of good conversation!
That’s why I’m proud to moderate Chicago’s first Ugly Talk on Thursday, May 29th.
It’s not a panel about “hustle culture” in some romanticized, rise-and-grind way. It’s a conversation about the things we don’t usually talk about—the rejection, the underpayment, the burnout, the moments you almost quit. The ugly.
But here's the secret: the ugly parts make the beautiful ones matter more.
The art hustle might be messy, but it’s also magnetic. People are drawn to what’s real. They want to feel something. To own something meaningful. To know the story behind the stitch. That’s what this is about.
Art brings us joy despite the ugly parts.
So whether you’re a stylist, a sculptor, a seamstress, or just someone out here trying to make it make sense—Ugly Talk is for you.
Because we’re not just building businesses. We’re building bridges - even if some of them are made of hot glue, stitched fabric scraps, and sheer willpower.
And I promise—there will be joy. There always is. Even in the chaos. Even in the struggle. Because when artists speak their truth, something beautiful always shows up. So I’ll see you there.
