A pair of co-founders I’ve advised recently reached out to tell me that a story I told them changed the course of their company.
Here's what happened.
It was 2018, and I was preparing to start raising money for Haus.
Naively, I thought it would be pretty easy. Alcohol was the last industry that hadn't been disrupted by a DTC brand, and through a legal loophole, we'd figured out how to be the first to do it. Research indicated that this was beyond a billion-dollar opportunity, and alcohol acquisition multiples were similar to software, meaning I had a good chance of raising VC. On top of that, I had a massive rolodex of contacts from my 10+ years of working in Silicon Valley. Half of my friends had already had massive exits, and countless others were established investors, VCs, and journalists. I’d been reading VC blogs for years to learn the ins and outs of fundraising, and felt like I understood the game. I figured that raising a friends and family round would be doable.
But boy, was I wrong. Six months of pitching later, and not a single person had said yes. In fact, many people thought I'd lost my mind and stopped talking to me. While some people could see the potential, they just couldn’t risk being one of the first ones in.
It was nearing the end of 2018, and I’d pitched everyone I knew. I was determined to launch by summer, only 8 months away. But we had no physical product, no brand, and no money.
Something had to change.
On a winter road trip down the Sonoma County coast, my husband began playing the audiobook of Gucci Mane's autobiography. Not far into the book, Gucci began telling the story of his first album, "Trap House," and how no matter how hard he tried, nobody cared. Nobody wanted to work on it or release it.
Then, Gucci shared a lesson that would change our lives: in the beginning, it's all about your collaborators.
This wasn't just a throwaway line. Gucci's entire career trajectory showcases this principle in action. After establishing his LaFlare Entertainment label in 2002, he initially struggled with limited industry connections. His first independent album, "La Flare" in 2001, saw only about 1,000 CDs distributed locally. Despite traveling to New York seeking distribution deals, he returned empty-handed.
The breakthrough for his commercial debut "Trap House" in 2005 came through strategic collaborations. As he began to understand the importance of legitimacy by association, he pursued features with established artists. For his track "Black Tee," he secured collaborations with Bun B (who charged $3,500) and Killer Mike (who asked for $1,000). He understood that the credibility that came from these associations were well worth the cost.
Gucci realized that it didn't matter if you had a great product if you were doing something for the first time. Nobody would take you seriously without social proof. You had to bring in top-tier collaborators—your ability to do that would show people that you know the game and you are worth taking the risk on.
Listening to this, it immediately hit me—no matter what my resume was or who my connections were, I was still a "first time" startup founder pursuing VC. I needed to be vetted, and nobody in my network was willing to be the first. So, I thought... who would be my ideal collaborator?
Immediately I knew the answer: Gin Lane. At the time, Gin Lane was the top DTC branding agency in the world. Their portfolio was collectively worth north of $10 billion. Every brand wanted the chance to work with them because they seemed to mint unicorns. They could be very, very picky.
I knew I had something big, brand would be a massive part of it, and my brand vision would excite them. Most importantly, I knew that if they chose to work with us, it was the consumer brand equivalent of getting into Y Combinator: you're immediately one of the few almost guaranteed to succeed. I knew it would impact my ability to fundraise immediately.
So, I reached out via their website. I got a kind email back thanking me but saying they didn't have bandwidth for additional projects. Undeterred, I went back to my network. Instead of asking for investment, I asked if anyone knew the founders of Gin Lane. Sure enough, someone responded saying he went to college with Emmett, the founder. I received an intro, Emmett agreed to take my call during a 20-minute walk with his dog. I gave him the pitch, and by the end of the call, he said they'd like to take the job.
Soon we were signing papers and received our first invoice of $60k. I still had zero investors—and zero money to pay them—at this point. But I was immediately able to go out to my network, as well as established VC firms, with "Gin Lane-backed startup" in my subject line. Lo and behold, everyone suddenly wanted to meet with me.
Even then, it was still a challenge to raise (I’ll write more about that in another newsletter). But we managed to raise just enough—one check at a time—to get to launch.
The Psychology Behind Collaboration Success
This pattern isn't unique to my experience or Gucci Mane's. It's deeply rooted in human psychology through three powerful mechanisms:
1. Status Leakage: Research by Anderson and Kilduff reveals that status hierarchies develop rapidly in social groups, and status transfers through collaboration. For better or worse, high-status individuals are perceived as more competent, and this perception extends to their collaborators. When Gin Lane agreed to work with Haus, their status in the branding world transferred onto our business.
2. Social Proof: Robert Cialdini's research demonstrates that people determine appropriate behavior by looking to others' actions—especially in ambiguous situations like evaluating an unproven startup. When established entities vouch for newcomers, it creates powerful social proof. The agency's portfolio of unicorn brands created an unconscious shortcut in investors' minds: "If Gin Lane sees potential here, there must be something special."
3. Borrowed Credibility: Unlike status leakage, which concerns social hierarchy, borrowed credibility focuses specifically on transferring trustworthiness. Gin Lane could see the value of our idea and our unique capacity to execute it, and when they validated that to others through partnership, investor trust was extended to us accordingly.
Putting This Into Practice
After telling this story to those founders, who were struggling to fundraise themselves, they eventually came back to tell me that they had landed a world-famous, celebrity designer as a partner, and to thank me for pointing them in a new direction.
I'm not saying it's easy to land a stellar collaborator. But if you're wanting to raise money, and you're having a hard time, you might be barking up the wrong tree right now. Before you land the investors, think about potential collaborators.
Ask yourself:
Who would be my ideal collaborator? Who in your industry carries instant credibility that would make everyone else pay attention? Could you imagine a path where you get them on board, either as a supporter or a partner?
What complementary value can you offer them? The best collaborations aren't one-sided. Are you confident that this partnership will be rewarding for the collaborator? If not, how can you make it valuable to them?
How can you approach them authentically? Find genuine connection points as an alternative to cold outreach, as I did through my network to reach Emmett.
What tangible "social proof" can you leverage? Once you secure that first key collaboration, make it visible. Leading with "Gin Lane-backed startup" immediately changed the conversation with my investors.
At the end of the day, you can’t do this on your own. You’ll need collaborators at every point of the journey. The right ones can provide what no amount of money can buy—the credibility and social proof that can change the course of your business forever.
Until next time,
H
Wheels are spinning now. Thank you!