(Yes, up above is Current Julie, serving young Julie)
Did I ever tell you how my parents met? My mom was a professional event planner. My dad was a DJ. (Since you asked, DJ Larry Ozone was his stage name). My mom hired my dad for a party and, well, the rest is history.
Growing up, my life was a literal party. Themes. Activations. Giveaways. Games. If you've ever been to a party where you had to guess how many jelly beans were in the jar, I was probably the kid who counted them beforehand. And yes, I absolutely used that information to my advantage.
I loved helping my parents. Setting things up. Watching guests arrive. Seeing people's reactions when they discovered a surprise element or unique touch. Creating memorable experiences was in my blood long before I realized it would become my career. And if you've ever attended one of Branded's Cocktails & Connections events, this is probably your ah-ha moment.
My mom's job also came with what I considered the greatest perk in the world. She frequently booked restaurant buyouts in New York City for her clients' events. In the days following those events, we would often get invited back to dine at the restaurant. To a kid growing up in New Jersey, this felt like winning the lottery. I was getting access to places that felt magical.
The meal I remember most happened at The Pool Room at the now-closed Four Seasons Restaurant. Currently, the Pool Room still exists, but as a new concept/same name operated by the awesome crew at Major Food Group.
For those who never experienced the OG, it's difficult to explain just how special The Four Seasons felt. The restaurant occupied the iconic Seagram Building and looked more like a museum than a dining room. There was a massive Picasso tapestry hanging between the dining rooms. (Yes, that Picasso) Floating metal beaded curtains shimmered and moved with the air currents. Museum-quality furniture sat beneath soaring ceilings. Servers who felt like they were dressed for the opera or evening gala. Every detail felt intentional. Every detail felt important. The room was anchored by a stunning white marble pool surrounded by eight coveted tables.
The restaurant wasn't just a place to eat. It was a place to experience. A place where art, architecture, hospitality, (some unsavory behavior…good and bad… allegedly) and dining all came together under one roof.
I remember walking through the grill room to get to the pool room with awe and wonderment before finally being seated at one of the tables surrounding the pool. Without knowing how special it was, I knew how special it was.
At the time, I thought that was what made the experience memorable. But looking back, the thing I remember most had nothing to do with the room. It was the service. It was the first time a server spoke directly to me. Not through my parents. To me.
He asked me what I wanted to order. He listened to my answer. And when the food arrived, he served me first.
That may seem insignificant (or not if you are in the hospitality industry, or a parent, or both), but to a young girl, it meant everything. For the first time, I didn't feel like a kid tagging along with adults. I felt like a guest. I felt respected, important and seen.
And just when I thought the evening couldn't get any better, they brought out table-side cotton candy. Yes, table-side spun cotton candy…at one of the most elegant restaurants in New York City. While this meal made me feel like the adult I so longingly wanted to be, ironically, this dessert made my parents feel like the kid they wish they could turn back time to be. And with a little help from google, I found this video on the famous Four Seasons Cotton Candy!
Looking back, I realize what they accomplished in that single meal. They made me feel grown up enough to be treated with respect and childlike enough to be completely delighted. They understood exactly who was sitting at that table. I was more than a cover, I was a person. And that is what made this meal live rent free in my head (as the kids say these days…).
So what’s my point? The best hospitality isn't about the fanciest dining room. It's not about the most expensive ingredients. It's not about the chandeliers, the Picasso, the pool, or even the cotton candy. It's about making people feel something.
Every guest walks through your doors hoping for more than a transaction. They want an experience, they want a memory and they want to feel valued.
The older I get, the more I realize that the hospitality professionals who shaped my childhood were teaching me lessons I wouldn't fully understand until much later. The event planners (ahem, my mom) taught me that details matter. The DJs (ahem, my dad) taught me that atmosphere and sound matter. The restaurant operators taught me that people matter.
Today, when we curate events at Branded, I often find myself chasing that same feeling. Maybe not the elegance of The Four Seasons… (Although we did have a wonderful evening at the Four Seasons Orlando at FSTEC last fall). Maybe not the nostalgia of childhood… (Although I think temporary tattoos and pop a shot count as nostalgia, right?) Maybe not the macarena or the electric slide… (Although we have pulled out the limbo more than once…)
It’s more about the feeling of being welcomed, connecting, and walking away with a story worth telling and a new friend. So yes, here I am decades later, still talking about one dinner. Not because I remember what I ate…(I don't…well… other than the Cotton Candy). Not because I remember what anyone wore... (I don’t…and I’m glad for that…because early 90s fashion…) But because that was the first dining experience I had that showed me why we call the restaurant industry, the hospitality industry.
And today? It's almost embarrassing how obvious it is that I do what I do.
My mom spent her career creating experiences and my dad spent his career creating energy. Restaurants turned out to be the place where those two worlds collide.
And do I still find it fun to count the jelly beans in the jar? Absolutely. And will I still use that to my advantage? Absolutely!
