Hi everyone! I hope you have had a relaxing and good Christmas break and feel refreshed and ready for the new year. I hope 2010 will bring you health, happiness and all other things you wish for yourself and your family.

I’m just back from a trip to Sweden, which combined nice relaxation with the family with useful meetings and contacts for MummyMug. Really looking forward to a new year, which will certainly bring lots of hard work but also a lot of fun, I am sure!

As one of my New Year’s resolutions is to start vlogging, I decided to start right away!

Today, I have spent over four hours in the car. I have in that time actually not transported myself any further than back and forth to one single meeting, that took place about 90 kilometers from my MummyMug office in The Hague. So, the average 2 hours that I spent driving each way to get there mean I averaged a stunning 45 kms per hour. On the highway. Wow. Now, that is the reality of living in the Netherlands: a great but very, very full little country, that clogs up every day with queues even though the landscape is criss-crossed by four or six lane highways. And how could we not have these queues, with more than 17 million people crowded together here in the polder landscape? We actually have a population density comparable to that of Bangladesh.

Quite a stark contrast to Sweden: my region in Sweden, Smaland, has about the surface of the Netherlands, and boasts  a mere 500,000 inhabitants. And that, folks, is a populated area of Sweden. Well — to make up for it, we have at least 17 million trees though.…

So today, my car was my best friend, and it really deserves a presentation I believe. It is a Volvo (of course), a true classic, box-style 240 station wagon, with nearly 300,000 kms on the teller and is courtesy to my brother-in-law, who could not part from his beloved Volvo when upgrading to a newer model. As I cannot afford much more than a bike, really, having spent all my money on MummyMug prototypes in the past three years, I was very happy to get the chance to take it over.

Because although I must be brutally honest and admit I do drive this particular car because I can’t afford another (if I could choose freely, I suppose I would go for something with airconditioning, a functioning radio and power steering. If I could choose REALLY freely, I’d choose an Audi TT.)

But — apart from the sheer functionality, that it starts, moves and taking me to my meetings, and apart from the obvious loud and clear statement it makes about my Swedish heritage, it does have tremendous character. It’s kind of sailing on the road, gently bouncing a bit, ploughing forward with dignity among all the newer models on the road. it seems to be saying: here I come, and I am not making any excuses! The seats are generous, the visibility great. It is BIG — feels big while driving it, and feels totally absolutely enormous when trying to park it: yep, I do admit I sometimes circle around to find a really easily accessible simply-drive-in-with-your-nose-first parking place, because I will not even think about manoevering it backwards into a tiny spot along the road, surely measured made more for a Smart rather than this REAL car.

Others do recognise this too: today, while filling up the tank, a guy getting out of a new Volvo (of course) at the pump next to mine gave me (well, the car then!) an appreciative nod and said: ‘Mooie bak!!’ So you see, it even earns me respect with the guys.

And most importantly: there is something truly bitter-sweet about driving around in this old car. A proud and almost rebellious feeling.

Because I know that I drive this particular car, right now, because of the very a conscious choice to go for it with MummyMug. And thus to put the money where it really belongs: in the core of the business. And to stick with it, no matter how long it takes to reach the goal.

And to feel that what does it matter, if I don’t drive the most luxurious car in the world? What does it matter when I have the fantastic privilege instead of following the real dream of creating my own business!

Let’s just hope that the car makes it through the next annual inspection, so it also can stay on the road. Either that, or that MummyMug is on the market in the meantime, so I can finally lease that Audi.… ;-)

Today my daughter Eleonore, who is half Swedish, half Dutch, has had her real Swedish baptism of fire — which I am proud to say she passed with flying colours.

At the tender age of four, she managed to drive in her first wooden plug all by herself, and thus helped me assemble the most representative piece of furniture of all from the most Swedish company of them all: the Billy bookshelf from IKEA. I am sure you have heard of it. Chances you have one or two at home?!

Well, I have several now, and have decided to be proud of admitting it. Not a self evident way to feel about it: a Billy is actually that sort of purchase that you set out NOT to make. Too ordinary, too boring, too… Billy. I started looking for a bookshelf, and vowed NOT to buy a Billy. Not again.

But.…. after looking around, realising that custom-made designer bookshelfs cost four times the money, that the Billy does the same job for a fraction of the price, looks neat and that all the different available elements and modules mean you can combine it into something quite nice, I did it again. I bought Billy. The fact that they gave a 20% discount at IKEA yesterday, to celebrate that this product is already 30 years (!) in the market did not make the decision more difficult.

The trip to IKEA was as always also a chance to tank up on Swedish-ness. To indulge in meatballs, and to be surrounded by a sober, realistic, no-frills but yet very creative and inspiring atmosphere that characterises this impressive Swedish company. Because whether you like it or not, whether you have resisted the Billy-craze or not, I trust you agree with me that it is impressive to build up an ever expanding business of the reach, magnitude and influence on people’s life that IKEA has achieved — and keep it a family run-business at that.

Compared to the super-tanker IKEA, my MummyMug company is of course not more than a little rowing boat. And I have not managed to keep MummyMug a family business. It has been necessary to raise capital to go from idea to market, and I also much benefit from having partners in my company that help build a viable strategy. But apart from that, there are many other ideals and aspects on doing business that I like to take inspiration from this the most Swedish of all companies.

I perceive their strategy as as keeping it simple. Keeping it down to earth. Strive to offer people something they really need and something and where the designer has payed attention to form as well as function. And to keep on listening, to stay tuned into what is actually going on out there.

Now, those are business principles I also vow to abide by. To offer also a MummyMug that is useful, functional and well designed. Simply from Sweden, with love.