They’re all here. Quarterly meeting. Oval table. Lukewarm coffee. Agendas in hand.
On one side, the sales director, looking worn out.
She’s spent the past two months reassuring distributors about a collection… that wasn’t ready.
Across from her, the logistics manager, jaw tight.
He’s been rebooking containers, negotiating with freight forwarders, and playing Tetris with warehouses.
Next to him, the head of production stares at his phone.
He already knows he’s going to be blamed.
And then, at the end of the room, silent, sits the CEO.
Present. Tense. But wordless.
Because the head designer this season — the one who caused the delay — is his brother.
And no one dares say it aloud.
It all starts with an illusion:
That a company operates like a chain.
Design → Production → Logistics → Sales → Finance.
Each phase following the other. Each team doing its part.
But that’s not how it works.
In a mid-sized business with 300 employees, 71 stores, and 25 years of history…
All it takes is a one-week delay in design
→ for logistics to lose three,
→ for production to pile up stock with no clear direction,
→ and for sales to miss the window.
Each day of delay at the start becomes a nightmare at the end.
And no one said it. Until today.
Flashback.
This season, the head designer — the CEO’s brother — wanted to tweak a flagship piece.
A new trim. Bolder. More signature.
Just a detail. Not meant to derail the rest.
But here’s what happened:
The prototype was late.
The materials took longer to approve.
Production had to wait for the final visuals.
And in the end… nothing was ready on time.
More importantly:
No one else had been brought into the process from the beginning.
Because ideally, even at the very first step, design should have invited sales and marketing to the table.
Not because they’re creative experts.
But because:
Sales, close to the field, could’ve said if the trim was worth the delay — or if customer complaints about a recurring quality issue should take priority.
Marketing could’ve started crafting the narrative early — not scrambling after the product was finalized.
But no.
Creativity was the brand’s soul.
And the lead designer was family.
So everyone else bent around him.
Back to the meeting.
“We didn’t get the product sheets on time,” says the sales director. “Clients need at least three weeks to place their orders.”
“We received the final visuals too late,” adds production. “We had to compress everything. Two lines are still being assembled.”
“And we,” adds logistics, “missed the port window. Now we have to pay a premium for express freight. Triple the cost.”
Silence.
The CEO looks up.
“Maybe it’s time we review the whole process?” he offers — as if the cause were still unclear.
But everyone knows.
This year, again, design was left to run alone.
Without constraints.
Without feedback.
Without early collaboration.
Because they operated in silos.
Because they chose flattery over alignment.
And here’s the result:
A meeting where everyone’s speaking… but no one’s naming.
Where tension is thick.
And fatigue fills the room.
Because behind closed doors, everyone knows:
Every season, one or two key people burn out.
Not because they’re incompetent.
But because they’re trapped between a sacred product…
and a neglected production line.
The truth?
A company isn’t a chain.
It’s a circle — a living ecosystem.
If sales isn’t there from the start, how do you anticipate objections?
If marketing isn’t at the table, how do you build a consistent message?
If logistics sees the product last minute, how do you plan the flow?
And if no one dares tell the designer that his timing is burning the others…
then the cycle will continue.
Not from incompetence.
But from blind loyalty.
Seedz
For those who dare to rethink what they once thought was working.
