Every square inch of her website was hand coded by our team. All custom. And while Marawa still sources the gear and holds the reins, we do the grunt work: warehousing, quality control, finishing, folding, bagging, fulfillment, inventory, online presence, and marketing support. Our quality control is persnickety but simple: one high standard of “on time, not effed up.” We didn’t realize how unique our approach is until we started standing out among the horror stories. But we’re not bottom-line kind of people and we never will be.
Through e-commerce work with people like Marawa, we determined that anything more than 3 hours a week spent on merchandising, reconciliation, inventory, etc., is wasted. And most artists and managers are giving double, triple, or more than that.
No matter how much money you make through merch, you can’t buy back time. What does it profit a person to gain the royalties but lose their soul? Our management fee is a pittance for a world of gains.
Marawa’s deep investment in her brand is the sort of thing we couldn’t help but get behind. This job was our jam, but the artist type was new. We weren’t the makers of anything concrete here. And, in a manner of speaking, neither was she. But we still see the music in it.
Because music is expression. Music is the soul in sound and color and light and joy. Music is sharing passion. And all the merch is a stage.
She provides the inspiration, and we deliver the execution. We’re the 5-inch heels under her sparkly skates and the air in her hula hoops.
By sheer coincidence, Marawa’s brand is called Paradise. That’s fully managed merch: a special type of nirvana.
