Author’s Bio:
Ellen Bennett is the founder and chief brand officer of Hedley & Bennett, a premium kitchen gear company that has outfitted more than 9,000 restaurants and hundreds of thousands of home cooks. Starting with just $300, Ellen built her brand by working directly with renowned chefs like Nancy Silverton, Dave Chang, and Evan Funke. A former $10-an-hour line cook at Providence in Los Angeles, Ellen transformed her firsthand experience into a multimillion-dollar business known for quality aprons, knives, and kitchen tools.
Professional kitchens produce some of the most extraordinary food in the world. The people making it? They’re often dressed like garbage. That disconnect—art-level cooking in throwaway uniforms—is what Ellen set out to fix when she started Hedley & Bennett with $300, no business plan, and zero knowledge of what EBITDA meant. Thirteen years later, the company outfits more than 9,000 restaurants, sells pro-grade knives and kitchen tools direct to consumer, and has collaborated with brands from Vans to the NFL. Ahead, she shares the decisions, failures, and philosophy behind building a brand that’s designed to outlast her.
On the problem she saw in every professional kitchen:
I was working 12-hour shifts. It was physical, it was mental—it was like going to war every single day. And you’d get to the end of the day and you felt like garbage. Outside the kitchen I noticed people transformed. You wouldn’t even recognize the cook you’d been standing next to all day when they weren’t in their uniform. They looked like real humans, we just didn’t feel that way in the kitchen.
So it was about dignity and pride. Not about “I’m going to hit eight figures one day.” I wanted people to feel different in the kitchen, and I wanted to feel different. I was a $10-an-hour line cook. I didn’t have an MBA. I didn’t come from a trust fund. I was like, Let’s combine hard work with a vision and make it something that’s about community, and then I’m going to bring all these chefs along and get their opinions on what they need. I was focus-grouping my entire audience without knowing it, asking Nancy Silverton, Dave Chang, “What do you need? What’s wrong? What’s working?” They gave me all the building blocks.
On the first batch of aprons that failed within 24 hours:
They were a four out of 10. ... The vision was there: better material, a little color, some thoughtfulness around the cut. But I didn’t know about pilling, shrinkage, or wash testing. We figured all that out later and are now psychotic about quality. Early on, however, the first batch looked beautiful—a perfect little stack of chocolates, and then, 24 hours later, the chef was like, “These suck. The straps are falling off.” So I fixed them. It was trial by fire, but if I hadn’t gotten myself down the road and said yes, I wouldn’t have figured out any of those things. I learned a lot more just doing it than analyzing it from the window.
As an entrepreneur, you’re going to mess up along the way. But if you’re willing to own it and fix it, then, most of the time, people are totally down to be a part of that with you.
On giving away 150 aprons to save a relationship:
We got an order from Bryan Voltaggio: 150 aprons, the biggest order we had ever done, by miles. They had a deadline for a restaurant opening, and we didn’t get the embroidery right. We missed the cutoff to ship. We were freaking out.
So we gave them the aprons—all 150—for free. We didn’t have the money for that, but I did it because I wanted him to know we were taking responsibility for our mistake. I don’t even know if he understood how tiny we were or that we absorbed that cost. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t doing it for anyone other than our own integrity. My accountant would remind me that we weren’t a nonprofit. And I’d say, I know, but there are decisions that don’t impact you today that will impact you tomorrow.
On building a heritage brand instead of a flash in the pan:
I’ve always had this position for Hedley & Bennett to be a brand of heritage, not just a flash in the pan. I don’t want to be cool today, gone tomorrow. I want to be a Le Creuset. I want to be an All-Clad. I want to be a brand that your mom, your grandma, the next generation is like, “Hell yes, I’m going to buy Hedley & Bennett.”
When you go to Japan, you go to a ryokan (a traditional inn)—those families have been running their businesses for hundreds of years. It doesn’t mean you can’t make money, but it’s a different orientation. You’re thinking about the long haul, not the hot, sexy win today.
Getting a customer once is one thing. Getting them to come back is a whole other ball of wax, because they have to trust you. When you’re spending a lot of money on ads and the ads are great but the quality’s bad, they’re never coming back. That’s too flash in the pan. Too short term. So from day one, I was just obsessed with quality and community.
Don’t spend more than you make and reinvest every penny back into the company. It was maybe a slower path, but it was a strong foundation of a path.
On the moment she quit the restaurant to go all in:
I kept trimming down my days at the restaurant until I was only working two days a week. I’d leave the office on Friday at two, put on my chef coat, and go work the weekend. It was a crazy juggle, but the restaurant was my connection to the industry and I was afraid of letting that go.
There was a come-to-Jesus moment where I was like, I either go all the way or I can keep juggling the two. I went to Chef Joseph Santino and said the time has come. And he said, “You’re going to crush it. Go.” The minute I did that, the company exploded, but I had to have that leap of faith. Not choosing an outcome is choosing an outcome. You have to go make the decision, even if it’s the wrong one. Then you fix it from there and keep going.
On the shift from “I have to do this” to “I get to do this”:
I have two little kids. There are times where I’m ready to throw myself out a window. But then I step back and I’m like, Oh my god, I get to do this. These are my little humans. It’s the same with the business. It’s a perspective shift. When life is really hard, you’re like, What is happening? It’s all going down in flames. And then you step back. I’m healthy. My hands work. I get to wake up every day and try again. That reframe—from “I have to” to “I get to”—it changes everything. The thing you’re griping about right now was the thing you dreamed of being able to do. So instead of resisting, embrace it. Live to fight another day.
Watch Ellen’s full interview on Shopify Masters to hear how she turned collaborations with Vans, Crocs, and the NFL into a repeat-purchase engine, what it was like pitching the Container Store with a screaming baby, and how her team takes 3D-printed prototypes into restaurant kitchens.
