The curious thing about Red Clay’s early sales pitch was what the buyers wanted to buy. The company arrived at trade shows with homewares. Retailers admired the designs, then became interested in how those designs had been chosen. A business built to sell objects had accidentally demonstrated a service.
That is an awkward kind of compliment. You have brought the merchandise, arranged it, explained it. The person across from you wants the machinery behind the curtain. For Red Clay, paying attention to that distinction changed its place in the product-development business.
The trouble came after the design
Red Clay began as a sustainable home-decor brand making products in the United States. Its approach brought designers together online, let the public vote on proposals and took selected designs toward production. Abigail Kiefer and Ashley Etling would later describe manufacturing and sales distribution as the difficult parts. The design community and its software had attracted a different kind of interest.
In 2012, Fast Company reported that the company was moving from producing its own goods to coordinating a department store’s tabletop designs. Its account placed the discovery at trade shows in New York and Atlanta. Buyers could see a use for the method inside their own businesses. Red Clay followed that demand.
Kiefer had spent two years in Bentonville, Arkansas, learning the retail industry near Walmart. Her earlier career was in urban planning in San Francisco. Etling brought architectural experience; fellow co-founder Kurt Kober brought consumer-products and business-development experience. This was a team approaching software through the practical business of getting things designed and sold.
“Collaborating to Design Better Solutions”
Ashley Etling’s description of the studio’s philosophy
The founders’ choice makes sense as a division of labor. A retailer already has customers and routes to market. An independent designer has ideas and the skill to develop them. Red Clay could organize their work together. It no longer needed to own the entire journey of every object carrying the result.
A department store lets the customers in
In June 2013, Dillard’s introduced Farm to Table, a collection of wooden bowls, plates, platters and serving utensils developed through its partnership with Red Clay. More than 5,000 Dillard’s customers voted on the final designs. The objects reached stores and the retailer’s website.
The participating designers included Marco Gallegos, Andrew Cottrell and Jennifer Fisher. The project gave a large retailer a way to invite outside ideas and customer preferences into a collection before it reached the shelf. A department store’s buying decision had become something customers could participate in.

Etling later reported 75 submitted concepts and 12 products brought to market. She also described a fivefold sell-through result. The concept and product counts are useful evidence of selection; the sales multiplier needs more care because the interview does not specify its comparison baseline. It belongs to the founder’s account of the project.
One Dillard’s project. Figures reported by Etling, not platform-wide averages.
There is a practical lesson in the smaller numbers. Seventy-five ideas still need editing. Twelve products still need making. Customer voting can help a buyer see which proposals attract attention, but it does not produce an object by itself. The project’s value lay in getting that feedback into a process that could keep moving.
The useful questions were in the form
Red Clay’s archived interface shows what its product actually did. A company posted a brief. Designers indicated interest. The client chose participants, reviewed concepts, requested revisions and selected work for delivery. The navigation broke that journey into seven named stages.
- 01Brief
- 02Join
- 03Design
- 04Review
- 05Revise
- 06Select
- 07Deliver
The brief asked about the consumer need, the object’s dimensions, its expected availability and its target price. Inspiration images sat beside those constraints. This combination matters: a designer can respond to the same visual reference very differently depending on the size and price of the thing someone intends to manufacture.

For a brand, the offer combined access to industrial and graphic designers with a place to manage their work. Its customers ranged from retail suppliers and hardware startups to large companies. Hiring an agency, employing designers internally or commissioning freelancers directly were alternative ways to solve the same underlying problem. Red Clay’s particular proposition was the combination of a talent network and an organized project.
That makes its expertise easier to locate. The software helped translate a commercial request into design work, then keep decisions and revisions moving. Its most useful promise concerned the handoff from an idea to a usable design deliverable.
The $3,000 question
Designers had a different question: would they get paid? In an August 2014 Core77 discussion, one participant worried that Red Clay was another contest rewarding only the winner. Another reader, consulting its pricing page, described a $3,000 package involving six designers producing three concepts each, with payment for participation.
That reader also described an additional $2,000 payment or 2% royalties for rights to use a concept. These are historical forum observations, not a current price list or a verified contract. They nevertheless show the distinction a buyer needed to understand: paying for ideas and acquiring the rights to use one were separate parts of the transaction.
For anyone copying the approach, compensation deserves a place beside the brief. A network of designers is only useful while skilled people want to participate. Buyers need to know what they receive; designers need to know what work is paid, when selection happens and what rights change hands.

Eight weeks ends at a handoff
Kiefer’s retrospective résumé reports a reduction in design time from nine months to eight weeks. It also describes managing ten employees and raising more than $2.5 million in venture capital over the company’s life. Those are founder-reported figures. The funding supported the business; it should not be confused with the cost of a customer’s project.
The eight-week claim is about design. Manufacturing, testing, transport and retail distribution are different work. A team borrowing this approach should define its endpoint before borrowing its timeline. An attractive concept and a production-ready drawing represent different amounts of progress; neither is a stocked shelf.
The network was bigger than the payroll. Former marketing lead Sophia Dean describes working with more than 500 industrial designers during her 2015-2016 role. Her account also describes testing roughly 14 customer segments. Read together, those details suggest a business learning which buyers needed a distributed design service, as well as assembling the people who could supply it.
My reading of the case is that the method suits a buyer able to specify a project, judge proposals and arrange the work after design. It offers less help when the unresolved problem is factory capacity, distribution or an organization that cannot make a decision. Red Clay’s own beginnings give that distinction some weight.
The idea hiding inside the operation
In a 2023 interview, Etling connected her earlier enterprise-software work to her later company, LimeLoop. Shipping at the earlier business had led her to make a reusable package for internal use. She later revisited that object. Once again, an operational problem had left behind a possible product.
Red Clay’s most portable lesson is a modest one: look carefully at the work customers keep asking you to explain. Write down its steps. Identify the decisions, the deliverables and who gets paid. Then see whether someone wants to buy that process. The early retailers had already supplied Red Clay with a clue. They wanted to know how the homewares happened.
Follow the thread
This is a historical profile of the San Francisco startup. Its former domain now serves a separate Charlotte architecture practice.