Modsy's office is lovely. That's a given.
Interior design is the startup's dog food--which, in accordance with Silicon Valley mores, it must eat.
Modsy makes software that helps independent designers craft personalized room-renderings, complete with product recommendations. The venture-funded company is in fast-growth mode; in 2017, Modsy's volume of orders increased 10 times over the previous year, and its number of customers grew about 500 percent. Since what it sells is interior design, it's no surprise that the company's almost 60 employees work in a San Francisco headquarters decked from door to door with thoughtful, spirited design. Shell chairs in a rainbow of gelato-case-worthy shades dot one room. Walls are adorned with geometric decals, carefully arranged from floor to ceiling. Tall plants or hanging sheaths of wallpaper draw the eyes upward. In one room--the bathroom--there's a gallery wall tribute to design pioneer Elsie de Wolfe.
When Modsy set out to design its own office, the company had recently raised $2.8 million in seed funding and was determined to stay frugal. The goal was to spend around $5,000 for furnishings and decor. With that tiny purse, it wouldn't be hiring a "starchitect," or constructing a three-story-tall living wall, as did Airbnb down the street. Instead, the company managed to outfit its first major headquarters itself, in an imperfect space, to perfectly suit its needs as a company. Modsy is a case study not only in how to pull together a stylish office on the cheap, but also how to really make it your own.
48 Hours to a New Office
Founder Shanna Tellerman incubated the idea for Modsy within Google Ventures and officially launched the design app to the outside world in 2015. At the time, her team worked in a house--a "live-work" situation.
Once the staff passed the 20-person mark, it was clear that cramming more desks into every corner, closet, and hallway would no longer cut it. So in 2016, Tellerman found an affordable sublet on the second floor of 121 Minna, formerly an industrial building.
Some of the team raised an eyebrow about the space initially. One employee recalls it had a "frat-house bedroom" vibe, thanks to large national flags hanging on the walls. Then there were the antiquated architectural quirks: a weird nook above the kitchen, a creaky freight elevator, and, mysteriously, a tiny attic tucked inside one closet.
