By Dessa Bayrock (The Cascade) – Email
Print Edition: February 26, 2014
The conference room is hushed. Comfortable red chairs are lined up in seven or eight meticulous rows, about a dozen people scattered throughout the room. Some are gathered in small groups, leaning their heads together to talk in low voices. All together, they look like a well-behaved audience politely waiting for a keynote speaker to arrive.
But these people aren’t here to listen to someone speak. Instead, each person is waiting their turn to see the producers of CBC’s Dragons’ Den. If all goes well, they could land a spot on an episode in the ninth season, filming at the end of next month.
During the show, entrepreneurs are given an hour to present a product or idea to five “dragons,” all of whom are successful business men and women. If they like the pitch, they might just invest — bringing a boatload of both cash and experience to the table.
It’s the chance each of these local entrepreneurs hopes for. Their journey starts here, now, in an Abbotsford Best Western conference room.
Three men clutch grocery bags and shiny promotional materials near the main doors. A woman in a branded baseball t-shirt checks her email on a tablet, pausing occasionally to breathe deeply. Another fellow talks to a volunteer, trying to find a way to fit his product through the door to the pitch room.
“We thought about putting wheels on it,” he says. He grins, but his voice is tinged with regret. What will happen if they can’t even get it through the door?
A pair of skis leans up against the wall, seemingly abandoned.
Priscilla Sreedharan and Richard Maerov, the producers manning the pitch room, will see between 25-30 pitches today. Abbotsford is fairly low-key, they explain; in Vancouver they’ll see closer to 200 pitches before closing doors for the night. Across Canada, they estimate around 3000 people will apply for a spot in the den either in person or online. After these auditions end, they’ll whittle the shortlist down to about 250.
Small business
Eileen Fisher sits beside a white-washed box of mason jars as she waits for her number to be called. She wears bright green Chucks to match her green shirt, which reads BR Laundry Soap. Her right wrist is bedecked with bright, beaded bracelets and her fingers with chunky silver rings. She has soft blue eyes and an open smile, and she’s here to pitch an environmentally friendly laundry soap that she makes in her basement studio using an old family recipe.
“It’s a paste,” she explains, turning the mason jar upside down to show how it stays in place. “It’s the consistency of thick cream.”
She thinks she has several factors going in her favour: she has solid sales, and the soap is made without phosphates or a chemical-based scent, meaning it’s safe for any kind of washer and popular with parents of young children.
She’s nervous, but making it onto the show isn’t going to make or break it for her company; she’s more than content to continue selling her soap by the jar at farmers markets and trade shows.
“We’re very small compared to what I’ve seen pitched on the show. We don’t have a huge amount invested,” she says. She’s spent just over $1000 on the business, and her largest expense was purchasing a tent to cover her stall at the farmers market. This, she says, is a good investment — even if it’s only to teach her kids how a business works, and to follow their passions and skills.
The producers raise their eyebrows when she asks for a mere $2000 in return for 10 per cent of the company and a five per cent royalty. The company is small, and even if it triples in value she still wants it to be small.
“I based this on what I would pay for it, as a mom that does 20 loads of laundry a week,” she explains.
National expansion
Two men covered in camera gear struggle to erect a giant banner of a woman advertising camera equipment as well.
It finally tips over.
“Those trade show banners are the worst,” Sreedharan clucks sympathetically. “There are legs on the bottom. They just turn out.”
With the banner finally sturdy and upright, Brook Parker and Grant Vetters leap into their pitch. They represent CottonCarrier, a locking system to carry heavy DSLRs without putting strain on the neck or back. It can mount on a vest, a backpack strap, or a belt.
The producers are extremely interested — this business is well-established, has a line of developed and popular products in over 250 retailers in North America, and earned over $1 million in revenue last year.
But, as Vetters reluctantly says, “we’ve come to a point…”
“Where you’ve kind of plateaued?” Sreedharan fills in.
The pair nods.
The founder of the company — Andy Cotton — is notably absent.
“He’s out taking pictures right now — Ecuador. That’s what he does,” Vetters laughs, assuring that he can be produced if the product line is picked for the show.
“And what’s the ask?” Sreedharan concludes. The two men pause, looking at each other.
“Oh, I’m not going to hold you to it,” she assures. “You can change your mind.”
Their opening negotiation is a little stiffer than Fisher’s — CottonCarrier is looking for $500,000 for 20 per cent of the company.
And who knows — in the next year, if all goes well, you might just see Vetters, Parker, and Cotton making just that deal.
