Out on top
Spencer McNeil is proof it’s not your past that defines who you are, but rather the lessons you learn and the people you learn them from.
Spencer McNeil is proof it’s not your past that defines who you are, but rather the lessons you learn and the people you learn them from along the way.
words HAYLEY BARNETT | photos ALEX CAIRNS
Life was tough for Spencer McNeil 10 years ago. His father suffered from schizophrenia and his mental illness and addictions took a toll on the family. Spence and his two brothers spent time in foster care and their mother, having lost everything, fought a hard battle to regain custody of her children.
Beneath the turbulence, Spencer was holding on to a dream. He wanted more than anything to become a barber and to run his own business, but he was quickly heading down a dark road – one that was becoming increasingly hard to find his way out of.
“I wasn’t a bad kid, but I was hanging out with the wrong crowd, doing silly stuff,” the 20-year-old explains. “That’s when I was selected for Project K. They look for kids they see potential in, who aren’t living up to it in school. That was me.”
The first part of the programme was a three-week 'Wilderness Adventure' with other young people selected for Project K, all funded by the Graeme Dingle Foundation. “It was life changing,” says Spencer. “We spent three weeks out in the wilderness, without a phone or any of my usual comforts. Just us, embracing that time away from everything.”
Activities involved kayaking along the Coromandel coast, biking from Thames to Waihi, and hiking through the Kaimai Ranges. “We had three showers over 21 days,” explains Spencer. “It showed me that you've got to be confident, you’ve got to give everything a go. And it teaches you to be grateful for what you have in life, because it can all be taken away just like that.”
Unlike most other kids his age, Spencer knew what he wanted to do with his life. At just 15, he applied for a year-long barber course and was immediately accepted. It was unusual for a 15-year-old to be accepted but they saw his passion and potential and he became the youngest student to attend barber school. Ten months later he qualified.
“They could see it was my dream, and it was huge for me. I got through the course and at 16 I was qualified.”
During these years of growth and change, his mother had met Phil, someone who had become a ray of hope for Spencer and his brothers.
“When my stepdad Phil came into our lives, he stepped up as a role model and a best friend,” says Spencer. Sadly, Phil was diagnosed with cancer just as Spencer was coming of age as a young teen, and he tragically passed away not long after Spencer completed his barber course.
“He got to see me qualify as a barber,” Spencer says. “He knew I wanted to run my own business and, before he passed away, he came into my room one morning and said, ‘You don’t get in life what you want, you get in life who you are’, and that you only fail if you fail to try. I’ll always remember that.”
The loss was another hurdle but Spencer used his suffering as fuel to become motivated and turn his business dreams into reality. Despite being assigned a mentor by Project K, it was Dan Allen-Gordon from the Graeme Dingle Foundation who had the most impact around that time. Dan helped to pull Spencer out of the dark hole he had found himself in.
“Dan is a big reason why I am where I am today,” says Spencer. “His encouragement and motivation really affected me. It really inspired me to succeed.”
After a couple of years working in barbershops, he was itching to get out on his own. “I was over it,” he confesses. “I didn’t want to work for people anymore. I gave them my notice, so I set up a chair in my living room at home. It was just a mirror, a chair, and a station. I was happy as.”
As his client numbers grew, he realised he’d need to move into a space that was a little more appropriate. “I hit up the BP on Ngatai Road and asked if we could put a cabin on their property. They accepted and it instantly went off. I was turning away 10 to 20 people a day. It was crazy.”
Shortly after, Spencer and his mum, Debra, heard about a unit in the Brookfield Shopping Centre coming up for lease. “I had a couple of thousand dollars in the bank which I used to start the business. The whole thing was such a huge risk,” says Spencer.
And so Barber Spence was born. “I had no clients in the first week, and then bang! I had enough to pay the lease, pay the boys, and it started building. We somehow got out of that scary moment.”
A large part of Spencer’s motivation was becoming a positive influence that others could look up to and be inspired by. He recently won the Sir Edmund Hillary award at the Graeme Dingle National Excellence Awards.
“I love helping others. All my staff are young – our barbers Rhymis and Lyric are both 20, our barista Kella is 20 and Harmony our tattoo artist is 21. I love showing people that anything’s possible for people my age.” Earlier this year, Spencer expanded his offering by adding Barbarista coffee shop next door.
Online, Barber Spence is gaining a following on social media with the boys’ humorous content, and has even captured the attention of Stan Walker, who commented and ended up giving one of Spencer's special needs customers backstage tickets to his show.
“That post really popped off!” laughs Spencer. Though plans to open in Hamilton and Rotorua are mere thoughts for now, Spencer knows he has the power to make it happen. Right now he’s focused on making his Brookfield business a positive place to be for both his employees and his clients. “I just like to make everything fun,” he says. “I want to make this the best place it can be for my team. That’s real success to me.”
Spreading success
An innovative butter substitute, born in Pukehina, is whipping up global demand.
An innovative butter substitute, born in Pukehina, is whipping up global demand.
words KIRSTEN MATTHEW
There aren’t many places on the planet that Craig Brown hasn’t seen nor many jobs he hasn’t tried. Mechanic, real estate agent, tech entrepreneur and now butter impresario, he has an affinity for jumping in at the deep end.
“Kicking doors down and climbing the mountain is challenging and stimulating,” Brown says. “I like swinging the bat.” His latest venture, Herbivore plant-based butter – a business he runs from his rural home in Pukehina – is his most recent challenge. He started it four years ago with no experience in food production or FMCG.
Raised in the Waikato, Brown left school and trained as a diesel mechanic. At 22, real estate beckoned and in his first year in the business Brown broke sales records for Harcourts.
“It was natural to me,” says Brown of real estate. “In that business, you are sharing really good, life-changing events with your clients and the energy was contagious. I loved that the harder you worked, the better you did.”
After two years Brown took a break, bought a ’67 Dodge and drove across the USA for kicks. He returned to Harcourts for a few years before embarking on another epic trip, hitchhiking overland from New Zealand to the Arctic Circle. The adventure took four years and saw Brown traverse Australia, Nepal, India, Pakistan, the Middle East, and travel south from Cairo to Capetown. When he returned, Brown joined AutoTV, a local show that promoted cars for sale on terrestrial television.
He bought AutoTV in 2009, in the midst of the global financial crisis. As sales got harder, he knew the brand had to adapt, so he took software invented by an acquaintance and morphed it into AutoPlay, an online platform that helps dealers and automakers to sell cars. Brands like Toyota and Kia signed on, and soon Brown was working with 80 percent of the franchise dealerships selling cars in New Zealand. AutoPlay launched in Australia in 2017 and was acquired by a firm in the United Kingdom the following year.
Brown moved to England to run the business for the new owners for a few years, and when he and his wife and family moved back to the Bay of Plenty, he knew he wanted to start something new.
“As individuals, we can control only what we eat, wear and how we get around, and when it comes to sustainability and the environment, we need to be doing whatever we can as individuals,” says Brown, who was determined to create an environmentally friendly product.
He investigated buying disused buildings and starting a business growing pea protein, but then learnt about coconut butter; that it produces a quarter of the emissions of bovine butter, and coconut trees remove carbon from the atmosphere.
“I’m not into telling people what to do, or saying that they have to be vegan for the planet,” says the confirmed carnivore. “But we need more food choices that are better for the planet. It’s about creating a product that adds value and I’m really proud that we are 100 percent plant-based.”
Brown found a farm in the Philippines where Herbivore’s coconuts are sourced and worked with the farmers to create the perfect butter, made from 67 percent coconut oil, water, sunflower oil, coconut milk powder and sea salt.
In the early days, there were no retail blocks — now Herbivore can be found in all good supermarkets in the butter aisle — just commercial-sized sheets for cafés, restaurants and bakeries. When Tart Bakery in Auckland won best vegan pie in the country with pastry made with Herbivore, Brown knew the business had legs. Just 10 weeks after diversifying into retail butter, Herbivore won the Foodstuffs Emerge award for new products. Partners soon came on board to help Brown with the business.
He’s still travelling the world, introducing food purveyors, bakers and chefs to Herbivore. It’s exported to Hong Kong and Thailand. Deals with the USA are in the pipeline. It means Brown, who lives with his wife and three of his four children on a lifestyle block, works strange hours, dealing with the US, UK and Asia early in the morning, and again once his boys are in bed at night. He grows kiwifruit and raises beef on their land, and won’t be giving up meat or bovine butter any time soon.
“I’m a real foodie,” he says. “At home we use Herbivore as our butter 85 percent of the time, but I use cow butter in my mashed potatoes. I think of Herbivore like brown sugar; an alternative that has its place in every kitchen.
“I don’t think I’ll ever stop,” he says. “For me, it’s got to be fun. And fun is connecting with people and doing deals.”
Over the rainbow bridge
Pet Farewells brings comfort and closure to pet owners, offering a dignified alternative to traditional backyard burials.
Pet Farewells brings comfort and closure to pet owners, offering a dignified alternative to traditional backyard burials.
words KARL PUSCHMANN | photos CRAIG BROWN
When it comes to our pets, we don’t usually think about the end until it comes. And it wasn’t too long ago that we’d simply grab a shovel, dig a hole in the backyard and then let the kids say a few teary words. However, with shrinking properties, increased urban density, renting being much more common and people moving homes more, a pet’s eternal resting spot can often be disturbed within a few years.
“It used to be accepted as normal, but now people don’t want to bury their cat in the garden,” Gavin Shepherd says. “They want it looked after properly.”
This is something Lyn and husband Gavin pride themselves on. As owners of crematorium Pet Farewells, they’ve been providing a compassionate service to pet owners for 17 years.
When they bought their first pet crematorium in Hamilton in 2007, the existing owner considered it a “lifestyle business”. Lyn, a college teacher, and Gavin, a veterinarian, initially thought it would be a good retirement business, but both quickly saw the dormant potential.
After upgrading the machinery, which is specialist equipment that has to be imported from the States, they began picking up more business. As well as the public they were also servicing all of Hamilton’s vet clinics, the SPCA and Hamilton’s Zoo. Seeing a gap in the market they then expanded to Wellington in 2011 and followed the same playbook. It was another success. This led them to purchase an existing pet crematorium in Mount Maunganui three years ago that they could see had not reached its full potential.
They went through the 18-month process of upgrading the cremator to “the latest and greatest,” and completing the paper trail of necessary consents, and say that business is now beginning to increase.
“We do the work for 60 percent of Tauranga’s vets, the Tauranga City Council and the SPCA Tauranga,” Gavin says.
Most of their work comes via the vets who, after euthanising a pet, will talk to the owner about their options. “It’s either take it home and bury or cremation,” Gavin says. “We have a number of ways that the ashes can be returned. The cheapest option is a cardboard box but there’s another six or seven vessels that we provide to return pets.”
Usually, someone from the team will then pick up the pet, cremate it and return it to the vet a couple of days later. But people are welcome to bring their pets in themselves.
“That happens more and more. But we can't allow them into the cremation zone. It runs at 900 degrees, so it’s hot and pretty dangerous, so they can’t watch that process. It’s just not possible,” he explains. “The cremation process takes probably six hours from start to finish. It’s not like getting a pizza, ordering it and then going to the other window and picking it up.”
As well as the basic cardboard box, which Lyn says is what most people who scatter the ashes opt for, there’s a range of options, including a variety of beautiful wooden boxes that are all crafted here in New Zealand, for people who want to keep them.
“All of the products that we return the pets in are New Zealand sourced or made,” Gavin says, explaining that supporting other local businesses was something he and Lyn both considered important. “We didn't want to say the vessels that we use come from China.”
As well as the expected cats and dogs, Pet Farewells has also cremated animals as small as goldfish and mice through to chimpanzees for the Zoo and, in one instance, an ostrich.
“That’s my favourite story,” Lyn says. “An ostrich is very big when its wings are outstretched and its head’s right up high so we didn’t know whether it would fit into the cremator. When we got it, it was like a coil of rope, because it had just collapsed into a ball and the neck was sort of swivelled around and compacted down on it, so we could cremate it quite easily.
“The poor ostrich had died of an obstruction. It had been scavenging around a construction site, and eaten everything shiny, like screws, nails, bolts and nuts. At the end of the cremation, they were all there. We not only had the bones and the stones, but we could also give the owner back everything else!”
The couple say that the death of a pet is an emotional time. For them, Pet Farewells isn’t just about offering a practical solution, it’s about giving people the opportunity to say farewell to their pets in a dignified and compassionate way. “People regard a pet as part of their family,” Gavin says. “And we’re pleased to be part of it.”
She means business
Meet some of the businesses that are part of She Is Unleashed, a local networking group where women support and mentor other women in business.
Meet some of the businesses that are part of She Is Unleashed, a local networking group where women support and mentor other women in business.
Moxi Café
Moxi Café is nestled in the heart of New Zealand's best beach – Ōhope. Serving up epic food, epic Allpress coffee and an epic vibe. A beach café that stands out from the rest, it’s the perfect all-day brunch spot in summer.
Her Tribe Travels
Curating bespoke journeys for women seeking more than just a holiday, Her Tribe Travels crafts tours that prioritise safety and foster a sense of community. These experiences allow travellers to explore the world while forging meaningful connections with like-minded women. HERTRIBETRAVELS.COM
Michelle Makeup Coach
Offering a unique makeup experience in the Bay of Plenty, this service specialises in personalised, natural makeup lessons for women over 35. Using pure-mineral, skin-nourishing products, the approach focuses on enhancing individual beauty and boosting confidence through tailored guidance.
Chelsea Waru – Mortgages
With a tailored, client focussed and stress-free approach, Chelsea Waru is your local Bay of Plenty mortgage advisor ready to simplify home ownership. She focuses on the path to home ownership – whether you’re a first-time buyer, expanding your property portfolio, or considering refinancing, tailored solutions are offered to suit your needs.
MarketHer
This innovative platform offers a comprehensive solution for women in business seeking to enhance their brand marketing skills. Combining an app and community, MarketHer provides tools and resources for growth on your own schedule, empowering entrepreneurs to elevate their brands effectively.
Meaning & the madness
He’s exposed hypocrites, taken on bullies, released a Netflix series and topped the box office with his two feature-length documentaries. Tauranga’s David Farrier reveals to Karl Puschmann the secret to his success, his one regret, his philosophy on life and how breaking his brain was the best thing he ever did.
He’s exposed hypocrites, taken on bullies, released a Netflix series and topped the box office with his two feature-length documentaries. Tauranga’s David Farrier reveals to Karl Puschmann the secret
to his success, his one regret, his philosophy on life and how
breaking his brain was the best thing he ever did.
Words Karl Puschmann | Photos Shayan Asgharnia + supplied
“All the best things that have happened to me – I’ve never planned them,” says David Farrier, his face scrunching into a look of quizzical bemusement. “If ever I do plan something, it usually goes disastrously wrong.”
It’s funny to hear him talk like this. From the outside, his life has seemed a steady, determined rise to the top. His media career began in the early 2000s, when as a fresh-faced journalism graduate, he took a job behind the scenes at 3 News. Passionate about pop culture, he began volunteering for entertainment-based assignments, eventually moving in front of the camera full-time as TV3’s entertainment journalist in 2006.
Even that wasn’t enough to occupy him, though, so he began a variety of side hustles, including acting, radio, writing for magazines and generally reporting on anything that tickled his fancy. The stranger, the better.
Deeply engaged with internet culture, David’s trajectory changed when he discovered the world of competitive endurance tickling. Originally, he thought he’d found a typically quirky story for the nightly news; however, the tale took a dark turn when his jovial request for an interview with the US producers resulted in a shockingly hostile email response.
Correctly inferring they had something to hide, David began seriously digging into the subject, leaving his role at TV3 to pursue it. He chronicled the twists and turns of his investigation in Tickled, his first full-length documentary feature.
With its unusual and taboo subject matter, its crooked antagonist and David’s underdog fight to get to the truth behind the fetishistic videos while facing a barrage of life-destroying legal and implied physical threats, Tickled got the world talking. It premiered at the esteemed Sundance Film Festival to critical acclaim, topped the New Zealand box office and announced the arrival of a new force in the documentary arena.
Since Tickled, David has produced and starred in the 2018 Netflix docuseries Dark Tourist, which saw him visiting places around the world
that you really wouldn’t want to; released his second feature documentary, 2022’s brilliant and bizarre Mister Organ; and created the ongoing podcast Flightless Bird with David Farrier for Hollywood actor Dax Shepard’s popular Armchair Expert network.
But the project he’s most passionate about, and the one that connects him directly to his audience, is Webworm. This is his online newsletter that lands directly in your inbox and sees him flexing his considerable journalistic muscles in tackling the delightfully strange and quirky as well as the heavy and newsworthy. He has a particular and devastating focus on bullies, conmen, hypocrites and false prophets.
David says this astounding career arc was all completely unplanned. In fact, growing up in Tauranga’s leafy Bethlehem, he didn’t even want to be a journalist. Instead, he’d meticulously plotted out his life in an entirely different field.
“I went to Auckland University to get into medical school,” he says. “To get into med school, you’re competing with all the smartest people. I felt so dumb because I was dumb in comparison. It was a stressful time.”
Even though it had been his dream, he quickly realised he wasn’t built for medicine when he had to dissect a rat and experienced a visceral reaction. “I wanted to vomit,” he admits with a grin. “I didn't have the brains or the stomach for medicine. I would have been terrible. I care about people, but not in that capacity.”
Then, more seriously, he says, “That year completely broke my brain. It made me reset. I stopped caring about having to reach a goal or do a thing.”
Faced with this harsh awakening, he dropped out of university, tore up the blueprint he’d mapped out for his life, threw caution to the wind and enrolled into AUT’s journalism course. “It was one of the best decisions I ever made because, from that point on, I tried to walk through doors that opened with the idea of seeing what happened and not being afraid to make mistakes,” he says, then smiles and adds, “So far that’s worked okay.”
David’s now a world-renowned documentarian living comfortably in Los Angeles, so the evidence agrees with him. Yet it’s hard to miss the irony in his origin story: in wanting a career in which he could fix people, he ended up breaking himself.
“Absolutely, it really did,” he says. “I used to be really stressed out, and over-plan everything. I’m still an anxious, uptight person, to a degree, but not to the level that I was. I’m a lot better at chilling than I used to be.”
In his two documentaries, David’s stress manifests in real time – unsurprisingly, considering the intense and unsavory characters he’s documenting, especially Mister Organ’s psychologically manipulative antagonist Michael Organ, a man with an unnatural talent for picking his way unwanted into people’s minds. Off-screen, however, for the 15 or so years I’ve known him, David has only ever been a chilled-out customer. Cool as any number of cucumbers. Someone seemingly unphased by life’s general hang-ups and cruising through the world with a welcoming aura, an infectious smile and a genuine enthusiasm for whatever’s happening around him.
It’s an outlook all shaped by that devastating year, and the mental reckoning that followed. Indeed, the secret of his success, he reckons, is simply going with the flow.
“All the best things have come from completely random events, like Dax Shepard reading something I wrote for The Spinoff that now means I have a job and a life here. You’ve just got to be ready to respond to things that open themselves up in front of you, which sounds a bit airy-fairy, I know, but I’ve always tried to be open to random opportunities that came up.”
Even half a world away, David is still very much on top of the goings-on in Aotearoa. Through his Webworm investigations, he’s regularly ruffling the feathers of the unruly and setting the mainstream news agenda.
Webworm made headlines with David’s scrutinisation of the Arise megachurch, which uncovered the emotional and physical abuse carried out by its leaders; with his deep dive into Destiny’s Church, which saw them labelled a cult; and when he found himself in a legal tussle with extremist broadcaster Sean Plunket. This resulted in Plunket being forced out of his job at Mediaworks and facing two police charges, although they were later withdrawn.
Ask David why he’s still so interested in what’s happening here and he has a simple answer. “I care about New Zealand a lot,” he says. “It’s like this little petri dish of five million people trying to figure things out – like we all are. There are amazing stories there – good and bad.”
Although people generally associate him with the weird and quirky, his work on Tickled, Mister Organ and especially Webworm has seen him diving deep into heavy topics with people who experienced awful things and are deeply traumatised as a result. His exposé of Arise Church alone saw him contacted by hundreds of people detailing the evil they were subjected to.
Their stories can be harrowing, but ever since his brain reset, David says he’s been a fairly upbeat person. “I haven’t had any major mental health
swings. The megachurch stuff became overwhelming because it was a lot of people and it was about something really sensitive. There’s a pressure to give people what they need and support them as they’re telling the story, and that does add up. But I’m lucky that I’ve got a good group of friends around me. I never feel like I’m on my own in it.”
He also looks after himself by turning off the computer and “getting the f**k outside”. He enjoys walking around his neighbourhood and spending time in a nearby park, where he delights in seeing baby skunks and deer. He can spend hours there – although he has to remember to be back indoors by 11pm, because that’s when the coyotes stir.
“Getting outside in nature is the ultimate reset,” he smiles. “As long as I do that, I’m fine.”
His go-with-the-flow philosophy has led him to the darkest and most dangerous places on earth and to interact with the most loathsome and evil people. Reflecting on his wild journey is almost as surreal for him as it is for those who have vicariously tagged along.
“Each project feels like a different life or a different person,” he says with detached bemusement. “It’s partly the way my brain is wired. I’ve got a bit of a spicy brain.”
That said, there’s one moment he can never forget, and can only look back on with deep regret. “Swimming in a radioactive lake in Dark Tourist,” he says, referencing one of the most jaw-dropping scenes in a show chock-a-block with them.
This happened while he was travelling through Kazakhstan. His guides took him to the Atomic Lake and convinced him to join them for a refreshing dip in its nuclear waters.
“That was dumb,” he says, failing to hide how exasperated he feels with himself. “It was f*****g stupid to swim in that lake. If I could have my time again… It wasn’t worth it. But you know, we were a bit drunk at the time and there were some fun Russians who encouraged us. Objectively, it was really good TV and it felt exciting, but I look back on it and think
I should have skipped that one.”
Regrets, we all have a few. But David has come a long way from the self-described “uptight teen” he was growing up in Tauranga. He was born in Bethlehem on Christmas Day, which perhaps explains the holy fervour with which he pursues his subjects, and his devotion to battling bullies and sticking up for those in unfortunate circumstances. His Baptist parents homeschooled him until sending him to Bethlehem College when he hit his teens. With his med school plan firmly in mind, he studied hard, becoming head boy in his final year.
“I love the Bay,” he smiles, thinking back to his youth. “I’d regularly run up Mount Maunganui to try to get fit with my dad. I loved the beach. I wish I was a surfer – I’d just roll around in the waves.”
His beachy upbringing still manifests to this day. Rather than shorts, he favours wearing togs, bought in bulk during the winter sales at surf shops.
“I wear togs a lot of the time because I always think you should be prepared to jump in an ocean or any good body of water,” he once told me when I interviewed him a couple of years ago.
He says he’s due a home visit. He likes going to the hot pools, spending time on the walking tracks and tumbling around in the frothing surf. The last time he was here, he got a wave of nostalgia and went to the house where he grew up and knocked on the door.
“I thought they might be a bit like, ‘What the hell are you doing here?’” he laughs. “But they were so nice and took me inside.”
This would be a warm, fuzzy way to end our interview, with David warmly reminiscing about his childhood budgie and Chandler Bing, his favourite cat, but there’s still one last question to ask.
Few people have thoroughly engaged with both the best and worst of humanity in the same way David has. If anyone has a hot take on humanity as a whole, it has to be him.
“I meet so many people doing so many good things, wanting good out of life and being so genuine and kind and thinking about others, but there’s also a lot of horrific, terrible stuff going on out there,” he says. “Both things are true at the same time, right? It’s the joy of humans. But essentially, we’re all the same. We’re all just trying to understand this weird rock we’ve woken up on, with no idea of why we’re here.”
Sensing bigger topics of life, philosophy and enlightenment, I ask if he’s found any deeper meaning to life’s existential and eternal mystery throughout his explorations into good and bad, right and wrong, justice and evil.
“No,” he answers flatly. “I wish I had. I think my life is ultimately meaningless. It is all ultimately meaningless.”
Grinning he adds, “I know that’s not a very positive quote for you,” before flashing a reassuring smile.
“But this doesn’t mean life is hopeless in any way,” he continues. “It just means we’ve got to be really careful about how we use that time. We don’t have long here. It’s a matter of making the most of it.”
Then, with the accumulated wisdom of a man who has trawled the depths of humanity and survived, he says, “Ultimately, that’s the joy of it all.”
To sign up for David’s online newsletter, visit WEBWORM.CO
Wrapped in aroha
These Māori-designed organic cotton baby blankets and throws blend traditional elements, modern style, and timeless quality.
These Māori-designed organic
cotton baby blankets and throws
blend traditional elements,
modern style, and timeless quality.
Photos Ria rawiri
Tasmyn Roach's idea for organic cotton paraikete (blankets) came from her love of making baby blankets for close friends and whānau. But as she learned more about her own culture and heritage, a passion for te ao Māori blossomed into a fusion of creativity and entrepreneurship – and Awhi was born.
Working alongside her sister Shenaye, partner Lance, and son Kahika, Tasmyn founded Awhi Company – the word “awhi” means “embrace” or “cuddle” – selling unique Māori-designed baby blankets, muslin wraps, and throw blankets that feature traditional Māori designs, patterns, colours, and themes. “I want to normalise Māori culture for the next generation,” Tasmyn says. “Each blanket is designed with an element of te reo Māori or Mātauranga Māori to ensure our pēpi stand strong in their identity from the moment they enter this world.”
With a degree in fashion design, Tasmyn is inspired by her journey learning te reo Māori, by the strength of her Māori heritage, and by a desire to celebrate and treasure Māoritanga. “Awhi encompasses everything I am about – values, focussing on te reo Māori, developing products for pēpi, and normalising te reo from birth,” Tasmyn explains. Here, she tells UNO more about Awhi.
How did Awhi Company come about?
Awhi Company came about from my love for babies. I would make baby blankets for gifts for friends and whānau. My niece was the reason it turned into a business. She was born in Perth and I wanted to make some extra money to visit her. I started selling them on Facebook, auctioning one a night with the highest bidder at 7pm the following night winning the blanket. From there the demand grew, and so did my business. My partner and I eventually took a trip to China to check out manufacturers and ensure they had the same values as us and could create beautiful organic cotton blankets.
What do you love most about it?
I think our pēpi are the most important thing in the world, and it’s our job to nurture and protect them. I feel so grateful that our blankets can play such an important part in their lives, help them settle, feel loved, warm and protected for many years. My niece is six and still has her Awhi Blanket!
What is your career background?
In 2012 I moved to Tauranga Moana and completed a degree in fashion design. I even took a couple of collections to NZ Fashion Week through Miromoda, which was an amazing experience. I then went on to work with our at-risk rangatahi, supporting them with education, employment and helping to remove barriers. On the side I was hard at work growing
Awhi Company organically.
What inspires you?
At the moment I am inspired by the change that is happening around the motu. Te Reo Māori and Māori designs are becoming standardised in everyday situations. I love that we can play a small part of that by creating Māori-designed baby blankets and throws for the whare. What an exciting future for our tamariki here in Aotearoa!
What is most important to you – in work and in life?
When you have a business you are so passionate about, the lines get blurred. Learning te reo Māori, travelling, and spending time with my whānau are important to me. Helping ensure our babies are wrapped in their culture and language from birth. My son is 18 months old now and I feel so lucky to be learning te reo Māori alongside him and for him.
What's been the highlight of your business journey?
We have recently opened a shop at the Historic Village in Tauranga! Before then we were operating out of home. This was such a big moment for us as it opened a door and has enabled us to connect with our customers and community. We get to meet Māmā and pēpi and genuinely check in with people. As a māmā I know how hard the first year can be so creating a safe space for Māmā to come in is really important to us. We have a change table in store and a safe place to feed baby.
What's next for Awhi Company?
Normalising Māori designs is only one part of our business. We are working hard to create intimate te reo Māori play groups for Māmā and pēpi. Helping Māmā on their journey of reclaiming their language for the next generation. We are so lucky and grateful for where we are and look forward to what else we can offer for our people.