It’s natural to question if all of this care can translate into real results for you as an artist. Meggie’s nonlinear path to founding BIGMESS equipped her with a diverse toolkit perfectly suited for creative consulting. She views creative development as inherently athletic, requiring discipline and strategic vision much like her parallel career as a competitive runner. Her professional mosaic includes communications management at Roman & Williams Buildings and Interiors, content writing at Gensler and MSCHF, and brand, client, business development at Hello Human. This breadth of experience, combined with earlier roles as a nanny, restaurant hostess, and freelance consultant, gave Meggie an unusually well-rounded perspective on what creatives need to thrive in both their artistic practice and professional development.

BIGMESS works with clients through a uniquely responsive approach that adapts to their specific needs and evolutionary stage. Rather than imposing standard solutions, Meggie delves deeply into each client’s world, identifying roadblocks and crafting tailored pathways forward. Her services span brand development, communications strategy, narrative crafting, and business expansion. This bespoke approach has attracted an impressive roster spanning disciplines, from furniture designers and architectural studios to multimedia artists. Recent highlights include Brooklyn-based architectural designer Ford Bostwick’s solo debut of seating and lighting at Sample House, Matt Byrd’s stone sculptural exhibition, and Zarolat and Soft Witness’ overseas debut during Milan Design Week at Alcova. Looking ahead, BIGMESS is supporting multiple talents during NYCxDESIGN, including Known Work, Soft Witness, and emerging designer Emily Thurman’s collaborative debut featuring works with several artists.

Meggie represents the next generation of creative consultant and publicist, with BIGMESS rapidly taking shape and expanding its vision. The recent addition of former AD PRO Associate Director Lila Allen to the team signals a thoughtful growth phase. What makes Meggie’s approach so exciting is her dedication to addressing design’s systemic challenges rather than simply navigating them. She envisions a design world transformed by conscious consumption, where independent studios, handcraft, and sustainable practices replace throwaway culture. Her ambitious goals include establishing artist residencies, developing grant programs, and creating resources to make design knowledge more accessible. It’s rare to find someone with such genuine vitality and excitement for not just the stories and creative processes, but for the meaningful transformation they can bring to our cultural landscape. Most remarkably, Meggie approaches these aspirations not as individual achievements but as collective possibilities, recognizing that her work as a publicist is ultimately about creating connections and pathways that benefit the entire creative ecosystem.

But don’t take it from us. Read on to explore this interview filled with candid insights, profound gratitude, and a refreshing vision for growth that has us completely captivated. Meggie’s perspective offers not just practical wisdom and an answer to this oft-questioned job, but a reminder of why we could all use a little helping hand.

We’d love to hear about your journey to founding BIGMESS. What were the most formative experiences that led you here?

I can attempt to retell them, but dang there are so many. I was a bit of a late bloomer in terms of deciding where I wanted to focus my professional attention and energies. For most of my twenties, I wanted to be a professional running coach and runner. It wasn’t until I was 32 that I got my first pro running contract. My journey—once I decided this, the design industry, was “the place” for me—was really nonlinear, but I do think the formative milestones all really inspire the next ones intuitively. Anyhow, BIGMESS has grown out of years of mentorship, the work ethic I learned from my sport, and tons of formative people.

Rewinding for a sec, though: Before BIGMESS, I was a professional nanny, a college and high school running coach, a restaurant hostess, and a freelance social media consultant and copywriter. By my late 20s, I was like, ‘alright, either we become a teacher or an interior designer”. I always had this really confident, imaginative side I wanted to explore in the lens of creating little worlds as gifts to other people. I had no interest in additional schooling and student debt. So, while I was running competitively, I did a 360-career-turn plan and just went straight to the source, to a design studio, to learn by osmosis. I dove head first and became an apprentice.

My top choice was Roman and Williams Building and Interiors. I wrote them a cover letter explaining how I fell in love with design and architecture, and why I deserved to be there with little to no experience (save for an internship at Boston Home Magazine in college). I’d work within the studio, wherever they told me to go. I’ll never forget: Their founder read my words back to me aloud, raised her head, and was like, “You are a writer. And you are going to write about design for us.” Hilarious how obvious things seem to one person who can get a glimpse of your core after 20 seconds, while it took me 10 years to get there on my own. (I studied writing and music composition at Boston College. So obvious—of course that framework could be applied to celebrating design and art.) Three months later, I became their Head of Communications, penning interior design project narratives, ghostwriting interview answers, and writing product descriptions for their soon-to-arrive brick and mortar flagship, THE GUILD, which featured this stunning international array of crafts and objects. I just honed it all in. I fell in love with craftsmanship, understanding how, why things are made, and most importantly, by whom.

My time at Roman and Williams was bootcamp. I made $18/hour, commuted from New Jersey by bus (where I had moved back home with my mom to afford the salary while continuing to run at an elite level). Eventually I moved onto another firm, Gensler. If Roman and Williams was my bootcamp intro to the design world, Gensler was where I got my on-the-job “Masters” in writing about design—and made a lot of mistakes. (Keeping with that analogy, I’ll say I got my “MFA” working and watching things go down at MSCHF its first year, and got my “MBA” at Hello Human.) In 2021, this was the year I got my pro running contract. Everything fell beautifully into place. My two (now) great friends Liz Wert and Alma Lopez, who became my first BIGMESS clients, were like, “You should go solo.” My sports psychologist of years was saying the same to me, too. So, I “graduated,” more or less, and “BIGMESS” was, continuing this long-winded analogy, like my thesis in this long-winded analogy.

In a way, BIGMESS is an homage to the guidance of an incredible village of mostly female mentors and folks who really took the time to patiently teach me and direct my naivete or curiosities towards opportunity. Rachel Slade was my first mentor. There was also Lauren Burseth. Leah Blackman. Jenny Nguyen. Andrew Watts. Jay Strell. My running coach of 10 years, Devon Martin. Lauren D’Urso. Heather Von Zuben and Aimee Eliott. Tiffany Dufu. Charles Miers. Especially my now running coach of 8 years, John Trautmann. When I’m sharing advice to my artists and designers, it’s usually some spin-off of the advice he’s given me. I believe artists and athletes are extremely similar. I apologize for this very long answer here and such detail, but as a publicist, I’m going to assume this is the only thing you’ll ever read about me, so it’s really important I openly thank these individuals and it lives on the internet forever ostensibly.

Your experiences at MSCHF and Hello Human must have been incredible learning opportunities. What gaps in the industry did you see that BIGMESS could address?

For sure, these two companies certainly inspired me or clarified the ways in which I envisioned BIGMESS to function today.

So. Just a minute to battle cry here and clarify: The arts and design industry doesn’t have gaps right now. It has major systemic chasms that start at institutional and socio-political levels. Arts and cultural programs and institutions are losing funding left and right and closing down all over the world. The U.S., especially right now, isn’t objectively funded to support these artistic pursuits. Art and design play a main role in humanity, it sustains, betters the spirit. So, there’s absolutely no doubt in my mind it’s worth exhausting solutions to these chasms on a wider or nuanced level. We have to start somewhere.

Now, I’d be kidding myself if I said BIGMESS had the key to solving all this. We are just scratching the surface to bridge those gaps, but what I believe we all can start to address (which you guys by the way are doing such a beautiful job of adding to this equation through your advocacy) is: Alleviation of the independent artist-designer-studio’s plight. My sense has been over the years that there isn’t really a solid playbook for designers post-graduate program, nor is there a one-stop destination offering them a sense of security, or the room to truly believe, “Okay, I can do this”—that is, writing, sales outreach, social media, PR, etc.—“no problem, in addition to design.” To pursue a career as a designer, it really requires a team approach. Art and design practitioners need more resources. More options. Period. All of this involves such business savvy, self-advocacy, and fearless marketing, which doesn’t come naturally to all.

In addition to just the operations of being a successful artist and designer, these creatives also have to summon their inner life and mastery outwardly, consistently, to survive throughout their entire career span. It’s deeply personal. When you are the instrument, this inner kind of ‘codependency’ you have between you as ‘self’ and you as ‘artist’ or performer is a titanic challenge to sustain, economically. Emotionally. Especially for the artist. If you are able to generate profit from your craft… that is a dream realized.

I think what BIGMESS is really good at here is trying to identify the issues, the roadblocks of each of our clients/talents to a very specific level and working with them for the long term to address them under our core services: Communications (this is everything)/messaging in all its forms, creative advising and strategic consulting, and maybe what we’re most well known for, which is public relations. This has been an incubation phase for a while, and definitely wasn’t perfect to start, but I’m really happy to say we are so ready to turn the dial on this: BIGMESS has a phenomenal arm that focuses on brokering new business/sales deals on behalf of clients.

All this to say humbly, BIGMESS doesn’t have all the answers. But I do know we are equipped to instill confidence, always. We work very hard to create opportunities in every sense so that our clients feel secure about doing what they love most, which is putting their head down in a boundless creative space to produce beautiful things that make other people happy.

I’ll know we’ve all done a great job when the consumer and the big corporate design companies have made a mass paradigm shift to focus on the importance and recruitment of handcraft, healthy materials and methodologies, vintage design, slow production, and independent studios. Disowning plastic completely. That would be great. My list goes on. One day a Gen Z-er will say, “I’m going to invest in Rafi Ajl or understand who my local craftspeople and collectible designers are”…. instead of purchasing a throwaway item through Amazon or Wayfair or throwing that cash towards a hypebeast sneaker collection. And maybe when every single modern art museum opens a collectible design wing. Then maybe I will rest. I don’t know if I have enough time. Please call me if you can help!

It’s clear how deeply personal and holistic this work is – really getting to the core of who artists and designers are and why they create. We imagine that’s an incredibly challenging thing to help someone uncover about themselves. How do you approach those conversations and help artists tap into that kind of self-knowledge?

Totally. “Getting to the core”… knowing what you do and what you don’t and “your why”, alone, is very difficult.

Honestly. I tell them to hydrate. I’m about to ask you a lot of questions and you’re going to do a lot of talking and it’s exhausting.

I don’t think I can speak on behalf of every artist and designer here, but I’m going to bet that they took this profession up because they didn’t feel understood otherwise, or couldn’t get the right words out most of the time to express their core but something definitely needed to get OUT. So they choose a tangible outlet to say what they really mean. And, when this girl from New Jersey shows up to the table, like, “HI HOW YOU DOING? WHAT ARE YOU THINKING on this and this and WHY?!?” and really wants to listen..…then asks the ‘right’ (or meandering but still topical!) questions…we get to some really fascinating places. This is where I have the most fun. I have so much admiration and respect for what they do. I just let my fandom go totally unchecked in these conversations. It’s my favorite part of what I do and it gives back in spades.

And yowza, their answers. Once we synthesize them, they are a sharp sword to wield. Right? If you look at every excellent piece of art, it usually has an unshakeable narrative or knowingness. That all originates from the core of the artist-designer, as individual or collective. Framing the narrative via dialogue is foundational work. Once we’ve done that work and give it back to them, it’s like that final moment of Queer Eye or Tidying Up with Marie Kondo, where they’re like ‘oh my god, I didn’t know I could come off that way!’. And we’re like OF COURSE YOU COULD. And that’s just the beginning! Everyone deserves to be heard, deeply.

This deep, introspective work with artists and designers seems like it would require incredible trust and alignment between both parties. How do you determine if you and a potential client will be able to build that kind of relationship? What does that vetting process look like from both sides?

When I’m scouting or looking at new talent, I trust my gut, I trust the artist/designer, and I think I trust their work as a means of speaking for the rest. Beyond the admiration for what they create (and that it checks my boxes: The work has to be attitudinal, future-minded, empathetic, provocative, inventive, or awe-inspiring), my question after that is, would they get along really well in a room with the entire roster and team otherwise? And if that’s a yes, then we are good to go.

If I sense any sort of entitlement or unprofessionalism…there’s no need for me to chase that, or worse, subject my team to that. There’s only a handful of times where my intuition there has led us astray, and it’s a huge blow and such a shame to fail myself and also see that exist.

One time on a shoot, the incredible photographer Marco Galloway said to me and my client, Matt Byrd, “You know it’s such a privilege to be professionally working in the art-design space.” Those words haunt me in a really good way. If I see that someone doesn’t want to treat this space we share together with honor and value especially towards my time and energy, I have no problem in year two of BIGMESS to just point them towards the door.

In terms of how clients vet me or BIGMESS to start with the introspective work…. I don’t know. I can say 90% of our clients come to us via word of mouth, and maybe that referral implicitly takes down some initial walls. “Vetting” is such a process. Trust is incremental.

I don’t feel I’m truly vetted by a client until we’ve really won WON. Some indications of that are when I hear that there’s been a vibe shift within the studio or I get happy tears or an “I love you” from a client. The real vetting (to me at least) from them comes after, once I’ve not only gained their trust but I’ve brought home some trophies for them, so to speak. But it doesn’t stop there. I’m not necessarily seeking their approval or ‘vetted’ stamp; I’m just addicted to seeing how far we can go together.

Once you’ve helped artists tap into this understanding of themselves and their work, what does the day-to-day collaboration actually look like? Could you walk us through how you translate these insights into concrete steps and support?

I can speak in broad strokes. There’s no cookie-cutter approach. You must tailor your approach, and know your client to the point where you can almost anticipate or envision something before they do. Which obviously takes time—but is everything to having a fulfilling, well-understood partnership.

We execute an individualized plan with our best practices in mind. We identify the roadblocks and work to generate opportunities and paths through our services. It’s an ever-evolving process, so we communicate often and easily. There’s also a lot of heads-down, quiet work where I’m hunting and chasing, which isn’t always obvious to the client until I have a “confirmed win” to report. The best clients that succeed with us are equally invested, they know to utilize our open door policy with patience, gratitude, and equal give/take. And they also trust that when I’m focused, “hunting” and a little quiet, I’ll be back with some bounty. We are getting somewhere good when I can start fanning options, like “Door #1 or Door #2, or wait—how about this big window over here that’s kind of open?!”

I will say I’m not driven by tradition and echo chamber–ridden strategies like, “Okay, AD100 is the way to go” or “let’s hit x,y,z milestones so you can get your medal or accolade two years down the road”. No. What conversations do you want to be in? What’s the best use of your energy? How do you want to learn? How do you want to feed your creative spirit? What do you want to make? Are we attracting a reader who also understands that you want that? Are you operating from a deficit? (Fix that immediately.) What do you really want? Why? It’s really easy to fall into traditional ways of how you think success has been achieved before you, but I think it can also be a trap. It’s imperative in this world to consider the intersections and planetary scale. From there we can reverse-engineer what success, defined as you see it, what it looks like down the road, and start chipping away.

You’ve had this unique vantage point of working closely with so many designers and seeing both their successes and challenges. What are some of the most valuable lessons or insights you’d share with designers who are trying to build sustainable practices today? What are the lessons/insights you have learned about yourself?

Goodness gracious. So many guys. We could do a Substack or podcast just dedicated to the answer here. Just a few broad, top-line ones:

(1) Produce and create on your own timeline. Excellent work will be remembered no matter where and when you show it or finish it. (2) Do not over-romanticize gallery representation. Remember that they are businesses first and foremost. Do romanticize and follow the curator. (3) In deciding any collaboration: Your compass is respect, admiration, contract transparency, and outlets for expression. (4) What you say “no” to is far more important than what you will say “yes” to. (5) Comparison is a con artist. Everyone struggles at different times. (6) Know your worth and your guiding principles. (7) For the emerging practitioners: Please. Never do work for free or barter. Even for friends. (Friends know your worth!) It ultimately compromises the outcome, your energy, or a relationship. (8) Do not let anything leave your studio, whether that’s an ace design concept, an incredible amount of time, or, most importantly, your pieces—without a contract or written terms. (9) You will get burned. It’s awful but just think of it as a right of passage. (10) If possible, always buy the full rights to your photography. (11) Ask for what you want. Be specific. People want to help. (12) Dedicate yourself to a BIG moment for boredom once a day. (13) Be mindful of Mother Earth. (14) Interior designers and architects: Fabricators are everything. Treat them well. Pay them well. (15) On this note: Relationships are everything. They are what we will remember most. This is a very tight knit, protective, fantastic community. Make time to nurture yours. (16) Film set design is light years faster than our interior and product design right now. No advice there; I just think that’s interesting to note. Do with it as you will! (17) Have a hobby and a role that allows you to turn this space off. This is not your identity.

Insight about myself: Largely, I’m very happy to be here and to have this opportunity to talk to you and share. I hope it’s helpful to your readers. Thank you so much. Lesson: Clarity is a gift. Seek it, study it, and give it generously.

Given how personal these relationships are and how much trust is involved, how do you help clients navigate big decisions or risks? Especially when those decisions might challenge industry conventions?

Challenging industry conventions must be completely self-started by the client. My role is to push, encourage, guide, or expand their self-perception or capabilities along the way. To help to navigate or usher in something that was already within them. I only find myself having to persuade when fear is involved. But industry conventions they choose to investigate or challenge thereafter—I think that’s their art. It’s best that when we are at that point we are aligned, and my job at that point is to get out of the way. But they know I’m there in the background if they need a second opinion or protection, for sure. (It’s crazy how similar this part is to coaching in sports.)

In terms of helping to navigate big decisions and the persuasion part. I’m going to chalk this up to being half-Irish, half-Colombian, and growing up in Northern New Jersey as the middle sister of two brothers. I tell it straight. For survival hahaha. But truly, I’m a caregiver and I love to win. So when it comes to my clients and guiding them… If I don’t like something, if it needs refining, or I don’t think it’s a good idea, they will know. Immediately. I think brutal honesty is a great way of protecting any relationship.

So, when there is something really excellent and a juncture where risk/challenge might be involved where I need to recruit their equal faith, I have to say, there is very little resistance because we’ve already built up so much trust and I’ve been very honest from the start. They know, okay, we are here, and this is what we’ve been prepping for the whole time. So, it’s just an indication that we are expanding in great ways. Usually it’s just a confidence thing and a pep talk to be like, “Listen, you can do this.” And 9 times out of 10, then they’re like “oh yah!” as if they just needed a gentle reminder.

My favorite saying is “prepare for success.” It’s what we were after the whole time right? So, hurray! They jump, I’m jumping with them right behind quietly behind. It’s not so scary. Big decisions and risks to me, means, big growth, new frontiers. Let’s explore them together.

BIGMESS has welcomed some amazing clients this year, with exciting projects on the horizon. Could you share some of your plans for for the coming year?

Ah gosh thank you for saying that. They really are so amazing. Before I jump into the future, a quick shout out to celebrate Brooklyn-based architectural and product designer Ford Bostwick’s solo debut at Sample House. (He showed seating and stunning lighting, and is well on his way to designing for the whole home really.) As well as our first gallery client, Zarolat and Whitney Krieger’s Soft Witness… their respective debuts overseas during Milan Design Week at Alcova were such titanic efforts that they took on so energetically and confidently. I just can’t miss them without acknowledging “the future” below.

For the rest of the month and beyond we have a lot of exhibitions/shows we are amplifying: NYCxDESIGN will be packed: On May 8th, you can catch BIGMESS talents Known Work, Soft Witness, and Matt Byrd all sharing work at Love House. We just signed Emily Thurman, who is poised to make a stunning debut on May 14 with collaborative works she designed and produced with Daniel K, Camille Tan, Alexis Mazin, and Hero Ceramics. Zarolat will continue its streak with two shows in May, including an expansion of OMNIA, the group show seen at Alcova, with contributions from Known Work and Matt Byrd. Known Work will also be showcasing some of their pieces that week with Simple Flair. And, Ford Bostwick—one of our “business strategy-only” clients—will show at the new design show everyone is talking about, SHELTER. End of June/early July, we will be doing a launch event with a new client, Daily Tous Les Jours, a groundbreaking social architecture and art studio from Montreal led by Melissa Mongiat and Mouna Andraos. They are publishing a fascinating and perfect-for-this-moment book with Set Margins, Strangers Need Strange Moments Together.

On the more operational side, beyond doing excellent work for our roster, this year is about understanding who we are as a team and our scale. I am incredibly excited and honored to welcome one of the most incredible, genius, and kind-hearted individuals to the team, Lila Allen, who just made her “debut” with BIGMESS during Milan Design Week. She is the former Associate Director at AD PRO, before then was Managing Editor at Metropolis. Lila is a phenomenal writer, strategist, connector, and talent. As she’s been working with BIGMESS, she has also been writing a book two-three days a week… She’s unreal and it’s been a dream come true to have her.

I’d love to continue growing the team to a full-time squad at our own rhythm. And I can’t say that goal out loud, though, without immense gratitude to BIGMESS’s former contractors such as Nabi Williams, Jill Krasny, Mackenzie Maus, Sarah Kwitnieski, and Haley Morgan Miller, who were deftly balancing other freelance like Masters degrees, writing, professional dancing and choreography, and freelance creative production respectively while supporting BIGMESS’s growth.

Perhaps after June, we will launch (more formally) our “BIGVISION Workshop”—which has been out for a while, but mostly under the radar/through word-of-mouth only. In short, it’s a fast-track yet surgical way for us to audit and revamp portions of or your entire brand-studio-practice within the offerings of our service framework (pubic relations and media strategy, copywriting/messaging, business and sales strategy). The Workshop’s deliverables are guided by this belief I have that once you say something out loud, you become a force of nature. And this really revs up especially when you are saying it out loud to us. We are going to catch it and remix/refine what you’re putting down and make sure it’s seen, understood, and solved/optimized or creatively expanded. I’m speaking abstractly for a reason because, again, our deliverables are a tad different for all/no one size fits all but this all what’s incoming! (I think.)

What is your long term vision for BIGMESS?

The concept of a long term vision for me is very agile, collective, and must be open sourced in order for it to be worthwhile; to have an enduring legacy that’s actually principled. As in, I don’t really think of my long term vision as mine, possessive, if it’s a good one, it’s going to be “ours.” I am very corny. Alas.

When I consider the long term, I’m thinking about generational imprinting and legacy. It’s a responsibility to people, not for people. And with that, I (along with a “we”) can only hope to be continuously in touch and very aware that what we do affects others; to have a deep understanding of what we can/should pass down to each other, for each other, and how we receive it all and regenerate it… as long as we have that awareness… I think we’ll be okay.

Whomever I bring on to this team, our clients of course, and you for sure, I would want to have a say in where BIGMESS goes––how it acts and whom it serves. I’m not interested in being a captain that sails a ship to one destination that I’ve had my eye on forever (although I do think an art-design residency is definitely on my/our horizon). I think a really strong long-term vision happens when you know with all your heart that the destination you envisioned already has had a load of people who would arrive early, even before you hopped off the boat, willing to lend a helping hand. It would be as if the vision was so intuitive and strong that along the way, as we journeyed, everyone was like, “Well of course! Like, DUH!” and they were already working in parallel towards it with you and, “Oh look, well, now we have an artist’s residency.” Wonderful. I have absolutely no fear here when I look at it all from afar.

This is a few chunks of time or decades away perhaps but, I would love to build the aforementioned, well-sustained artists/collectible design residency. One that’s very similar to what’s going on over at Boisbuchet (an organization I so look up to and admire). There’s a huge benefit to locking in and with groups of like-minded and even better, contrasting people. Bonding is healthy. New pathways in all directions are built. Do check out Boisbuchet.

And on the goals part: I would like to start or be a big part of starting a grant program, and if there’s enough time or people… a foundation if we are lucky. I’d love to help do a book, like The Artist’s Way but it’s like, The Collectible Designer’s Way––a guide that is structured similarly to how I might have coached a distance runner, but, furniture and objects, tangential creative pursuits. At the same time, nothing beats in-person mentorship and connection so, maybe not a book? You guys tell me… I don’t know, but being in a position to help others get closer to their creative freedoms—that’s my vision.

But more seriously, I do personally aspire in every avenue to be a great listener, to always riff on my curiosities with others and learn outside of the echo chamber. It’s really important for me to stay close to this idea that I refuse to/will not have all the answers. To be uncomfortable. And if all the aforementioned aims don’t pan out into a tangible result, absolutely no problem, I hope someone else takes the ball and runs with it, or, perhaps something else was meant to come through. I do love this question because it grounds me very much in the present, which is actually my long-term vision in action: Getting to know creative folks like you more and help them. That’s it. I’m exactly where I’m meant to be, here.