Issue date: April 29, 1998
By JENNIFER DESAI
When it comes to mixing the personal with the professional, Marcy Magatelli is no slouch. At her framing shop, The Great Frame Up, at 1047 El Camino Real in Menlo Park, you can see that mixture in her own family photos displayed in the ready-made frames for sale, instead of the usual anonymous faces; or in the way she recommends just the right framing nails for a repeat customer -- and calls him by name.
But perhaps more than anything, you can see it in her sponsorship of an art show for students at Menlo-Atherton High School. For the past two years, she has invited teachers at the school to nominate student artwork for the show, a juried competition judged by local artists who then distribute cash prizes to winners in five categories.
In addition to the money she awards, she gives the students much more: supplies, a space to show their work -- and this year, for the 25 students whose art was selected for the show, she donated her time and expertise to teach them how to frame their work.
"I wanted to do something," she says, noting cutbacks in arts programs in the schools. "Besides, this is in my own interest. I'm training future employees, or at least future starving artists."
The art show, though, is an investment in more than future clients. "I was amazed last year, and I'm amazed now at just how quiet these kids are," she says. "They're shy, and inexperienced in many aspects of life; the experience of having an art opening really brings them out of their shells."
While the show gets most of the attention, Ms. Magatelli credits the teachers at Menlo-Atherton for working so hard behind the scenes, screening art and encouraging students to create.
For Ms. Magatelli, hard work is a way of life and a means to fulfillment. But it wasn't always quite that way; though she was always tenacious, she says, it wasn't until relatively late in her career that she became serious about business.
"I got a late start," she admits.
The daughter of a confirmed entrepreneur who was forever hatching new businesses even after his official retirement, Ms. Magatelli quit Berkeley at age 19 to open a dress shop -- and quit the business after a year and a half because, with six stores to look after, she felt she had done "too much, too fast."
The next foray into the serious business world came after her marriage; having moved to Humboldt County with her dairy farmer husband, she opened a yarn shop there. "I had a Scandinavian grandmother who did all sorts of handwork," she says. "It was lucky that I went to college during the hippie era: that kind of handwork had become popular then."
Ironically, it was the yarn shop that led to her interest in framing. Dissatisfied with the fabric blocking and stretching of the one framer in town, she persuaded him to teach her the basics of the craft so she could do the work herself. And do it better, of course.
But she didn't become a professional framer right away. Instead, she became a serious businesswoman.
"When I got divorced, I needed to find some serious employment," she says. But strangely, after a life in retail, Ms. Magatelli found herself working in the aerospace industry as a purchasing agent. And if the choice of industry wasn't exactly intuitive, her political convictions were.
As a purchasing agent, Ms. Magatelli set up an outreach program to encourage aerospace firms to buy from small, minority- and woman-owned businesses to take advantage of government funding -- and spread wealth outside the close-knit circle of large, well-connected firms. "I do have a political conscience," she says.
Still, the chance to benefit minority-owned firms didn't fully outweigh the downsides of a her high-octane job. "When I moved down here in 1986 I was still doing some handwork, when I had time, which was almost never," she says. "But when I went looking for a framer, and I couldn't find one, I started plotting my escape from the corporate rat race."
It wasn't easy to trade a fat paycheck and benefits for another stab at self-employment, but with her daughter going off to college she felt free to climb out on that limb again. Looking at her expenses, Ms. Magatelli's attorney was skeptical. "You won't make half what you're making now if you go into business," she told her. "How will you live?"
But without the expensive suits, chiropractor appointments to ease suitcase-bearing muscles, and psychiatrist's appointments to ease the rest, Ms. Magatelli found she could live quite happily on less, and make her business run. Having studied fiber art and preservation at the Art Institute of Chicago, as a framer she is interested in preservation as well as presentation, and counts many customers who come to her for her expertise in reserving their needlework or antique fabrics.
There are more framers in town than there were seven years ago when she opened her shop, Ms. Magatelli points out, but she's still going strong. "My dad always used to say, 'parts are parts.' Anyone can get supplies anywhere, but it's how they're treated in the process that really matters." How local businesses are treated really matters to Ms. Magatelli, as well. "A few years ago," she says, "when downtown Menlo Park wasn't as vital as it is now, I used to get so frustrated because nothing was open in the evenings." And when, as a working person, she needed to shop at night, there was no choice but to go to the Stanford Shopping Center.
"I was acutely aware that when I crossed that little bridge on El Camino, I wasn't just spending money in another town; I was spending it in another county, and I didn't like it."
When she opened her own Menlo Park business, Ms. Magatelli says, she felt obliged to stay open at night and on weekends as a way of living up to her demands. And seven years later, she's still open nights and weekends, and still happy with her decision to leave aerospace.
"I've had offers to sell the store," she says, "but not to people I could be sure would sustain this sort of business."
When the right buyer comes along, she says, she might consider a short retirement. "I'd like to dangle my feet in the sand in Costa Rica or someplace, but I think I'm someone who'll always want to do something. When my 70-year-old, retired father was on vacation in South America, he called me up to see if I wanted to join him in an emerald importing business."
There will probably be another retail operation in Ms. Magatelli's future, and she has plenty of advice for people who want to be their own boss. "Having a business is more like having a kid than anything," she says. "It's really that level of commitment. For me, the customers are the fun part. But taking inventory, and breaking down boxes, and all that other stuff," she adds, "that's definitely like changing diapers, or staying up all night with a colicky baby."
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