Strategy #1: The X-Factor behind Jo van Gogh and Madam C.J. Walker

Why your lack of traditional experience might actually be your greatest business asset.

Unconventional preparation personified.

In the last newsletter, I announced that I was writing Book #2: a non-fiction book about the twelve marketing strategies I discovered while researching my biographical novel, Saving Vincent: A Novel of Jo van Gogh. Today, I’ll begin sharing more.

First up: a reveal of Strategy #1.

Long-time readers of this newsletter know the origin story that beelined me out of corporate life and into writing a novel. After a visit to the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam in 2016, I first encountered the future protagonist of my book via a small caption under her photo.

“Jo van Gogh-Bonger.” Upon her husband Theo’s death, she inherited a “worthless” art collection created by his brother—an unknown artist named Vincent—and subsequently built a business empire that turned his name into a global icon. My book tells the story of her journey finding and ultimately following her inner voice in the early 20th century.

It’s also the timeless story of an entrepreneur at heart.

How did a 28-year-old widow—with no formal art training and no business experience—face down massive imposter syndrome to find the conviction that Van Gogh’s art was worthy? Especially against the status quo’s “expertise”?

This was the story question I asked myself again and again as I researched and wrote the book over seven years. As I dug into her life, I looked for clues. Here’s what I found.

The Clues in the Music

Jo grew up in a family full of music. She and her siblings were all given musical instruments and lessons. The family performed their own private concerts every Sunday and regularly attended the opera and theater. Jo ultimately studied music deeply enough to earn the equivalent of a bachelor’s degree.

What do art and music have in common? They are both fields where appreciation is intangible, emotional, and sensory.

In modern business, we talk constantly about the importance of consumer empathy and founder-market fit. Jo’s immersion in music meant she had already mastered the language of emotional connection when Theo told her, “Art must touch the viewer’s soul.” She may have lacked conventional art training, but she possessed a profound, intuitive understanding of how to connect a masterpiece to an audience’s heart. As she wrote in her diaries:

“Music and painting both touch the heart directly; one by sound, the other by colour and form — both speak without words and awaken the same feeling.” (Diary, Bussum period, circa 1892)“At the concert this evening I felt again how music can express what is too deep for words; it is the same power which makes a picture move me.” (Diary entry, 1880s)

An Informal Apprenticeship

Jo’s marriage was unusual for its time. During the late 19th century, women and men lived in separate worlds. Men occupied the public sphere of work and politics; women managed the private sphere of duty, raising children and running households. Society’s rigid gender roles dictated there should be no overlap.

Yet, Theo invited Jo into his world.

Harassed at work and frustrated by the lack of reception for Vincent and other avant-garde artists in his Montmartre gallery, he unloaded his anxieties with his head in Jo’s lap as she soothed his headaches. In doing so, he was handing her invaluable market intelligence. She learned firsthand exactly why the traditional establishment was rejecting the work.

And when Vincent’s art arrived by train from the south of France, I imagine Theo opening the packages with Jo at his side, both of them marveling at the latest installments. She wasn’t just looking at paintings; she was studying product inventory and the artist’s core vision.

In hindsight, although their marriage was tragically cut short after 22 months by Theo’s death, it served as an intensive startup incubation period. It would take her a while to realize how much she’d been taught, but the unusual breadcrumbs had been laid. Jo’s background gave her an outsider’s perspective—the ultimate competitive advantage that traditional insiders completely missed.

The Entrepreneur’s X-Factor

This is the same X-factor shared by legendary entrepreneurs: their unconventional preparation becomes their ultimate competitive advantage. Often, it’s an unorthodox background or a unique set of hardships that makes them uniquely qualified.

Take, for example, Madam C.J. Walker (born Sarah Breedlove, 1867–1919), the Black entrepreneur who built a hair care empire.

• The Problem: As a child, she suffered hair loss and scalp problems, giving her first-hand knowledge of an unmet need.

  
  

• The Drive: Orphaned at age 7 and widowed by 20 with a young daughter, her constant financial precarity cultivated a practical resourcefulness, risk tolerance, and drive that functioned as masterclass business training.

  
  

• The Credibility: She trained as a beautician, including under the renowned Black tycoon Annie Malone. When she began experimenting with her own hair care products, her background gave her unusual credibility and preparation.

Walker’s pioneering entrepreneurship blossomed when she launched the Madam C.J. Walker Manufacturing Company in the early 1900s. She employed a massive network of “Walker Agents” (saleswomen and hairdressers), utilized door-to-door sales, traveling demonstrations, printed marketing materials, and established training schools to expand nationally. She marketed a branded hair-care system specifically for Black women—promoting grooming, hygiene, and economic independence—while building a powerful personal brand.

Strategy #1:

Unconventional Preparation Makes You Uncommonly Qualified

All of this brings me to our first takeaway: Trust that your unconventional preparation makes you uncommonly qualified. Your untraditional background doesn’t make you less capable—it gives you a distinct edge that those on the inside completely miss.

See you next time with Strategy #2!