Search Results

< Back chobani on my jeans August 2025 becoming my cultural diet and what it means for founders Nothing screams chronically online more than walking into a grocery store, rubbing Chobani yogurt all over a stiff pair of jeans, filming it, and then posting it on TikTok. why? All because the lyrics in the song “Jeans by 2hollis” sound like he sings “put chobani on my jeans” instead of “put your body on my jeans” – viscerally different situations. Jeans became the song that framed my July photo dump on Instagram as a nod to the fact that I have seen this trend, find it funny, and ultimately, it’s become a part of who I am (in, albeit, some weird way). did this increase sales of chobani or annoyance of grocery store employees? I’ve been thinking about this a lot – how the content we consume every day becomes who we are. Humor, conversational references, restaurant choices, politics, etc. are all profoundly influenced by the content we consume and how long we let it marinate in our brains and bodies. As the internet and its culture have intertwined with our lives, it has changed how I think, act, and operate, as I believe to be true for most consumers. I think Lisa Kholostenko says it best, “consumption isn’t just passive enjoyment—it’s dynamic, it answers back.” It introduces the concept of a “Cultural Diet” that the content you consume becomes a part of you. It can lend itself to an era of your life, a fleeting Instagram photo dump, a phrase you repeat to your friends, or it can transcend chapters, inform your politics, and trickle into the core of your personality. No bigger indicator that more people are becoming a steady reflection of their cultural diets than the dialogue around taste. “Taste” — who has it and who doesn’t — is all VCs, founders, tech people, and performative matcha labubu keychain hipsters want to talk about. As defined by Emma Lou Cogan, Taste is “the byproduct of our worldview, the measure of our exposure to varied newness, & the invisible thread that ties together our emotional, psychological, and cultural instincts.” the tastemaker c.2025 I believe that taste is what evolves from your cultural diet. People focus on manufacturing taste via the content they consume. Except there is no filter for consumption. There is no way to limit the content you read, watch, and react to every day. You can curate your feeds to what you perceive to be high quality, unsubscribe from newsletters, mute accounts, and follow only those you know, but the flood never really stops. Algorithms surface “related” posts, friends forward viral clips, group chats ping with whatever celebrity look-alike contest is happening at your local park this week, and billboards replay the same slogans as you commute. In an ecosystem where the internet and reality are divulging more and more, content behaves like background radiation: it seeps through every filter, ensuring that the endless stream of headlines, hot-takes, and ads still becomes part of your cultural diet whether you consciously invite it to be or not. eating good Vice versa, if you’re always feeding yourself content that feels good, is comfortable, and is familiar, it’s like only eating Big Macs; you feel wonderful when eating it, but slow, sluggish, and left behind in the tides of conversation when those who have tried salads, soups, and sandwiches come around and reference another world of taste. You are what you eat. This leaves a question for founders building their companies today: how do you become a part of people’s cultural diets? It’s a more fun way of saying distribution matters. How you distribute (feed) your product into your consumer's cultural diet (the content they consume) determines how quickly you can move. Distribution is becoming increasingly paramount as certain product features, data, and previously “moats” are becoming commoditized. The company that most rapidly incorporates itself into its customers’ cultural diet, so convincingly that consumers experience the product as an extension of their own identity, unlocks a flywheel in which every operational building block (distribution, retention, pricing power, and brand equity) compounds at an accelerated rate. It happened with Lovable (0 to 2.3M users in 8 months) by making “vibe coding” part of the engineering zeitgeist. Rhode (0 to $1B acquisition by e.l.f in 3 years) by bringing a high-fashion lens to affordable beauty. Ramp (0 to $22.5B valuation in 6 years) by embracing the “underdog” narrative online and making something people hate (expense reporting) actually enjoyable. normalize slapping timothee on a billboard with a logo Each company’s story is now inescapable. Scroll a feed, open an email, cue up a podcast, each touchpoint repeats who they are, what they build, and why it matters. The product becomes a piece of their unique customers' unique diets. Ultimately, distribution is not only a question of reach; it is a matter of incorporation. When a product, message, or idea slips unnoticed into the daily cadence of alerts, shortcuts, and inside jokes, it migrates from the marketplace into the cognitive architecture of our brains and ultimately influences who we are. The push-notification that triggers a reflexive glance, the reference that needs no explanation in conversation, these are signals that a product has been metabolised, not just adopted. In that sense, market penetration is inseparable from identity formation: what saturates our attention steadily rewires our assumptions about efficiency, status, and even community. That realisation imposes a dual responsibility. For founders, the task is to design a product capable of that tenancy. For the rest of us, the question is curatorial: which inputs do we allow to occupy our limited cognitive real estate, and to what end? ___ Building to become apart of your consumers cultural diet? Drop me a line maria@redbud [dot] vc Previous Next

< Back first calls July 2024 how I run every first call with a founder. One of the largest misconceptions I notice from founders when speaking to them about their companies is the belief that talking to a junior VC can’t do anything for them OR that it’s the main point of decision in the deal flow process. Neither of these are wholly true. It’s critical for founders to understand that what a junior VC needs to move forward with a deal varies by firm, but going into that conversation knowing you have 30 minutes to make someone your biggest internal champion is incredibly important. The Importance of the First Call Every week, I take between 10 to 20 pitch calls. These conversations span from entrepreneurs who are just considering starting a company and don’t yet have a fully developed business idea to founders who are raising $3M in pre-seed rounds with lead investors secured. With such a diverse range of founders, it’s easy to get lost in a sea of companies and details. That’s why it’s crucial for founders to be memorable. Being memorable doesn’t mean having the most energy or constantly wearing a big smile. To me, it means being incredibly candid and honest about your company and its potential and being as well-prepared and disciplined as possible going into that first call. I understand that fundraising is a significant time commitment for founders, taking time away from building their company or talking to customers. Therefore, I make it my job to match that level of preparedness, coming into the conversation ready to share insights about the firm I work for and the value we can provide to them. Starting the Conversation After the small talk and niceties at the start of a pitch call, I always provide the founder with a clear structure for how the next 30 minutes will go. I’ll share a bit about our fund and the value we offer. Then, I’d like to hear about them and why they started their company. Afterward, we’ll transition into a Q&A session. By giving an overview of the call, I am setting expectations. Each VC leads calls differently, and I want the founder to know what to expect once we get on the call. Right away, they knew they will have time to ask me questions about the firm. It also clarifies that I prefer conducting the meeting in a Q&A format rather than a formal presentation. The first question I ask on every pitch call is, “Tell me a bit about your background and why you started your company.” This gives me a general overview and introduction to the founder and divulges insights that aren’t in a pitch deck. The best founders give a quick, high-level overview of their background, highlighting key moments that were crucial when they decided to leave a corporation to start a company. They talk in-depth about the pain points they personally experienced, maybe sprinkling in some customer discovery, but overall, they clearly articulate why they are building their company. This overview lasts no longer than 5 minutes. Building Conviction Quickly I’m constantly thinking about what I need to believe in order to gain conviction as quickly as possible, the areas where I need to do supplementary due diligence, and the priority list for what my partners may want to see. To cover as much ground as possible in the shortest amount of time, I run my first calls in a pretty disciplined fashion while still remaining casual. Here is the structure of my calls and some things I prefer to do when chatting with founders: 1. Have a Deck Before the Call I always try to have a pitch deck before the call to minimize the time spent asking questions already answered in the deck. Sometimes, I ask the same questions about key KPIs like sales cycle or pricing to confirm what’s in the deck or see if anything has changed. For early-stage founders, factors like sales cycle and pricing are often influenced by new learnings and change until key customer contracts are set in place. I want to ensure I have accurate numbers on these key details. 2. Keep It Conversational I try to keep the first pitch call in a conversational format as much as possible. I prefer to ask questions and have the founder answer them without running through a formal presentation. This helps build rapport, softens the power dynamic between a VC and a founder, and provides insight into how clearly the founder can articulate their vision and how deliberate they are in answering questions. 3. Dig Deeper with Follow-Up Questions I believe you get the best answers after the second or third question when digging into a topic. I let the founder’s answers to my previous questions guide the formation of my subsequent questions. This allows me to dive deeper into key risks and highlights of their business. It also helps get founders off script; many are on multiple pitch calls a day answering the same questions. I aim to cover as much ground as possible in that first call. Ending the call I end every call by thanking the founder for their time. If I didn’t have the pitch deck before the call, I make sure to request it, along with any supplementary materials I might need for early diligence. I also provide an overview of the timeline. I explain what the rest of our investment process looks like, the average timeline for each stage, and when they can expect to hear from me if we’re moving forward. Post-Call Follow-Up There are a couple of things I do after a first call. First, I ensure I have all my notes in order. I need to make sure that I have answers to the following categories: founder’s background, problem, solution, sales cycle, pricing, traction, and round terms. If I know I am missing something after that initial first call, I send an email within 24 hours. The hope is that after the first call, I’m excited about the founder, excited about the company they’re building, and curious to learn more. After a particularly excellent first call, I start to pull together a first-page diligence shee (more on that in a future post) to ensure that when I present the company to my partners for a second call, I am as prepared as possible and have the best understanding of the business they are building. Previous Next

< Back on identity capital September 2024 more than ever, young people are asking themselves who am I? you already know what you’ve experienced; start defining it. For those of you who don’t know, I spent the last year living in Mid-Missouri. It was one of the most confusing and challenging times of my life to date (and trust me, I’ve had quite a few of those). I spent a lot of time alone, working, cooking, and yoga-ing. Despite the mundane, what came out of my year in Missouri was one of the richest opportunities of my life. The time to truly reflect on who I want to be and the experiences I want to have in the future. Defining Identity Captial Earlier this year, I finished the book The Defining Decade by Meg Jay, Ph.D . It felt like, for the first time, I stopped asking myself, “What am I doing in Missouri?” and started framing the experience as a way for me to build something called identity capital. Throughout the book, Dr. Jay asserts that who we are is built over time, piece-by-piece, by the things in our personal and professional lives that we choose to develop. She describes these as “investments that we make in ourselves, the things we do well enough, or long enough, that they become a part of who we are.” The longer I felt stuck in my current geography, the more it began to shape who I was becoming. What initially seemed ordinary and boring gradually turned into an unexpectedly interesting experience. Living in Missouri became an opportunity for me to invest in myself, engage with a population in the US that I hadn’t interacted with before, gain new perspectives on the investing ecosystem, and apply principles in my job that investors in the Midwest previously overlooked. I was building identity capital. Inflection Points When I began reflecting on building identity capital, it led me to think about the past moments in which that capital was previously built. I distilled both circumstantial and opportunistic moments into what I believe were times of major identity capital building. I grew up in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. My mom was a stay-at-home mother who worked weekend jobs, and my father was a public school principal. I attended a Title 1 high school where 15.8% of my classmates were homeless, and 8 out of 60 students who were in my graduating class attended a 4-year university. At 16, I started working two jobs each summer to begin saving for college. This trend continued throughout my college years, where I worked 80–100 hours a week in the summers, juggling an internship and waitressing at two different restaurants. Plain hard work that afforded me the opportunity of education and travel. In college, I spent two + months studying in Spain, where I worked at a startup where no one spoke English, and many of my coworkers were ex-pats from the former USSR. This environment allowed me to be unabashedly curious while building relationships in a foreign language. Of course, I’m adding the “year in MO” to my running list. Currently, most of my identity capital moments were derived from the circumstantial. (Ex. born to a working-class family, working because I had no savings, and traveling because I did). These moments are neither net negative nor net positive but moments of inflection in who I am. The next step is creating more of these moments through situations I choose to put myself in with the purpose of building identity capital, no matter how uninteresting they may initially be. (Ex. moving to the Midwest for school) Piece by Piece What’s beautiful about identity capital is that it doesn’t always require substantial resources or unique opportunities. It is free to create and can be built through everyday actions — reading books, exploring new places, trying different foods, or engaging in diverse conversations. Personal identity capital is built through your own active development alongside the collective and others’ social capital/relationships, helping you move forward. A fantastic example of this is founder Andrew Rea ’s blog titled How We Got Investor Intros . Throughout the blog, Andrew talks about how he and his co-founder’s ability to get intros was a direct result of 4 to 5 years of putting themselves in a position to build their company (i.e., 4 to 5 YEARS of building the identity capital needed to do so!). Andrew breaks down his and his co-founder’s origins, careers, and network that allowed them to successfully raise. Their identity capital was ultimately “exchanged” for fundraising dollars and a chance to build their company. Source Adopted from: Côté and Levine (2002) It’s this intersection of identity capital and social capital (our own and others) that allows already great people to build something exceptional. Final Thoughts As a young person, it’s easy to feel like you’re floating in the abyss, unsure of which direction will lead you where you want to go. I’ve found that by reframing everyday situations as opportunities to build identity capital, you can start to design a life that is interesting. My year in Missouri provided a chance for deep reflection and helped me start crafting my life around what I found was most important to me (family, friends, global citizenship, etc.) After leaving Missouri in late May, I spent 10 weeks backpacking and working in Europe and have now settled into a new apartment in Chicago. None of these opportunities would have been remotely possible without my prioritization of building identity capital through my past, current, and future circumstances. I am beaming with pride that I formed these experiences, and I sincerely believe that other young people can as well. You know more than anyone what your life has been like. Think about it. Spend time reflecting on what your inflection points are and what you’re doing now to build the experiences you want to have in the future. Previous Next

< Back on curiosity January 2025 the underrated skill of not worrying about sounding dumb and just being curious The summer I spent in Barcelona was one of the most important experiences of my life. Like most college students studying abroad, I was excited about a "Cheeta Girls Summer". What I didn’t expect was that what I’d take away would have nothing to do with travel or language but with how to think. My internship at a proptech startup started the day after I arrived. I barely knew the company’s name before walking into the office, jet-lagged and (embarrassingly) late. The moment I sat down, I realized that no one spoke English. I had taken Spanish for years, but the classroom had not done much to prepare me for the speed and complexity of real conversations in a working environment. That first day, I understood very little. I went home, convinced I wouldn’t last the summer. But something interesting happens when you’re forced into a situation where you don’t know enough to pretend. You stop worrying about how you sound. Since I couldn’t talk much, I listened. At first, I asked only the simplest questions - enough to get through the workday. But as I got more comfortable, my curiosity took over. I started asking my coworkers about their lives, their weekends, and their opinions. I stopped filtering for what I thought was “smart” to ask and just asked what I genuinely wanted to know. That’s how I got to know Núria, my boss. She had grown up in the Soviet Union before immigrating to Spain, and I was fascinated by her story. One night before post-work drinks, I wrote out a list of questions I wanted to ask her - big, possibly naïve questions about her past and how she saw the world. I brought that list to our happy hour the next day. When I hesitated, worried that some might come across as uninformed, she laughed and told me to ask anything. That conversation led to a weekly happy hour, and during my last week in Spain, she gave me a journal filled with books to read - her way of continuing the dialogue. I think about that summer often, especially in my work as an investor. The same curiosity that helped me navigate Barcelona is what now guides my conversations with founders, LPs, and peers. Investing is an industry full of pressure to appear certain - to have well-formed opinions, to ask the “right” questions, to never admit what you don’t know. But I’ve found that my best investment decisions have come from doing the opposite. Instead of approaching diligence with a fixed lens, I approach it like my conversations with Núria by setting aside preconceived notions and asking questions that cut straight to what I truly want to understand. Why now? Why this market? What do you believe that others don’t? It's basically an exercise in first principles thinking but from a place of insatiable curiosity. The same applies to my conversations with other investors. Some of the best calls I’ve had with my peers aren’t the ones where we exchange fully-baked theses but the ones where we openly challenge our thinking. How are you looking at this trend? What assumptions am I missing? It’s in these back-and-forths where we’re willing to be wrong, to ask the obvious questions, to push beyond the surface-level consensus that the real thinking happens. What I learned that summer wasn’t just Spanish. I learned that the best conversations and the best thinking come from removing the fear of sounding dumb. Some of the most valuable insights I’ve had in my career have come from simply asking, How do you think about this? The ability to ask questions without hesitation and to be fully present in a conversation without worrying about how you’ll be perceived is a radically underrated skill. Previous Next

< Back rigorous thinking November 2024 "what do you think?" there isn’t a day that goes by when one of the GPs at my firm doesn’t ask me this question. "What do you think?" There isn’t a day that goes by when one of the GPs at my firm doesn’t ask me this question, and honestly, I used to hate it. I’m often bad at articulating them clearly, not because I don't have opinions. It’s not that I don’t have ideas about a company or initiative we're working on. My opinions were usually a mix of gut feelings and bias, but I hadn’t dug into why I thought a certain way. I’d never stopped to ask myself, "What do I think?" Over time, I noticed a pattern in my responses to this question. I’d ramble about my general impressions of a company when asked what I thought. I’d sprinkle in details from founder conversations or some diligence I’d done, but mostly, I’d speak in broad strokes, unstructured thoughts that even I struggled to make sense of. Unsurprisingly, this approach was not only unconvincing but often left me more confused about my perspective (ironic, right?) Over the past few months, I’ve started diving into becoming a more rigorous thinker. I’m sure my approach will evolve, but I wanted to capture how I’m beginning to build a more robust framework for thinking through decisions. In startups and VC, it’s easy and often incentivized to ignore truth for speed in the short term. However, you can move faster and make better decisions by developing structured pathways for clear thinking. One of the best ways to become a rigorous thinker is using mental models. This concept isn’t new, and it’s been discussed by countless others for centuries, but I wanted to share how I’m applying two models, Circle of Competence and 2nd Order Thinking, to build more rigor in my thinking. Circle of Competence: A circle of competence is an area where you have knowledge or expertise. When you operate within your circle of competence, you have a competitive edge because you understand the history, trends, attitudes, and behaviors within that space. Over time, you can expand this circle, strengthening your understanding and intuition. Shane Parrish describes it well in The Great Mental Models : "When we are within a circle of competence, we know what we don't know. We can make decisions quickly and accurately, define problems precisely, and identify additional information we need. We have a proven track record and can adapt our language to different contexts, zooming in and out seamlessly on what is knowable." For a long time, I struggled with the concept of a circle of competence, often dismissing it by thinking I didn’t have enough experience to be competent in any area. And while I may not be Mark Andreessen (not close…yet), I’ve realized that I do have emerging circles of competence rooted in my own life experiences. Right now, these circles are shaped by the industries that influenced me growing up, the work of the adults around me, and my background as a student. Circles of competence are built gradually and adapt as environments and dynamics shift. To establish and maintain these circles, you need a desire to learn, a commitment to monitor and test your assumptions, and regular feedback from those outside your circle. As I work to build a circle of competence in venture capital, I'm consistently putting myself in situations where I can learn from those with much more experience in the industry. Understanding how they think, combined with my own experiences, time, and practice, is helping me improve at assessing companies—and, hopefully, becoming a better investor. It’s not about being written or being wrong. It’s about having exposure to multiple ways of thinking and understanding the context and nuance around them. 2nd Order Thinking: Second-order thinking is about pushing your mind beyond an action's immediate cause and effect. It’s the ability to consider the second and third layers of consequences resulting from a single decision. Take dinner, for example. I have two options if I'm hungry: make a balanced meal at home or grab Raising Cane’s down the street. The first cause and effect for each is straightforward: the home-cooked meal will not be satisfying taste-wise, while Raising Cane’s satisfies my cravings because I love tenders and Cane’s sauce more than anything else! Based on first-order thinking, Raising Cane’s is the obvious choice. But if I think in the second and third layers, things look different. Eating at home may not fulfill all my cravings, but I’ll nourish my body correctly, sleep better, and have fuel for tomorrow’s workout. If I choose Raising Cane’s, I’ll enjoy the meal immediately, but my tummy will inevitably hurt, I’ll have inadequate nutrients for my workout, and I'll feel sluggish all evening. First-order thinking often favors short-term decisions, while second-order thinking encourages us to consider the longer-term consequences of our actions. Second-order thinking can sometimes slow decision-making as people evaluate all possible adverse outcomes. I use it as a tool to make more informed choices without expecting to foresee every result. It’s about challenging myself to think more deeply about the effects of my decisions. Second-order thinking is a critical tool when evaluating companies as an investor, where there’s a constant stream of companies to assess. Thinking through the second and third outcomes of my choices helps me look beyond the immediate attraction of a company or its initial traction to consider how it aligns with our firm’s investment goals and thesis. Second-order thinking also guides my decision-making when choosing which companies to spend more time on or push forward in the pipeline. It keeps me mindful of my blind spots and helps me consider the potential downstream effects of my choices. Conclusion: Building a more rigorous approach to decision-making has changed how I handle the dreaded “What do you think?” question. Using tools like the mental models above, I’ve gone from rambling through gut reactions to articulating clearer, more thoughtful perspectives. I’m learning to dig into why I think a certain way and what effects my decisions have in the long term. While there’s still much more to learn, these mental models are helping me tackle decisions with greater confidence and thought. Previous Next

writings October 2025 2nd-hand insights passed along learnings are like hand-me-down clothes read here August 2025 chobani on my jeans becoming my cultural diet and what it means for founders read here June 2025 y2 “self”, obsessive thinking, punching upwards, and not getting lost in the sauce read here May 2025 chewing on a running list of random things, trends and notes read here April 2025 pre-traction thoughts on legitimate ways to display traction early read here January 2025 on curiosity the underrated skill of not worrying about sounding dumb and just being curious read here November 2024 the prepared mind thoughts on generalist v.s. specialist investing read here November 2024 rigorous thinking "what do you think?" there isn’t a day that goes by when one of the GPs at my firm doesn’t ask me this question. read here September 2024 on identity capital more than ever, young people are asking themselves who am I? you already know what you’ve experienced; start defining it. read here July 2024 first calls how I run every first call with a founder. read here April 2024 what I wish I knew my first month in venture the mistakes I made and advice from other young investors. read here March 2024 my tech stack the tools I use every day and the ways I use them. read here January 2024 betting on unseen forces the formative experiences of founders and how they're key factors in forming an outlier. read here January 2024 rejection i’ve spent a fair amount of my life as a young person facing rejection. read here