Today we’d like to introduce you to Gary Christensen.
Hi Gary, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
My professional life post-college began in the New York art industry, grounded by my degrees in Art History and English Literature. This schooling cultivated a singular philosophy—the capacity to “recognize quality,” a belief that items of exceptional provenance and period would inherently align in the broader design world. Yet, for all its vigor, the eighties art world was a beast; despite success, I was not making any money.
A friend commented that “rug guys” kept their own hours, wore whatever they wanted, were rude to people, and seemed to make a lot of money. Without any planning, I travelled to Morocco and maxed out my credit cards to finance a container of rugs and ethnographic artifacts.
The immediate goal was the Ethnographic Show at Fort Mason in San Francisco. I hired my gigantic Sioux friend, Asa Luke—recently released from the military after the invasion of Kuwait—and we loaded the inventory into a 24-foot truck. We drove cross-country, sleeping on mattresses under the truck as we went.
The show proved successful, prompting an upgrade to hotel lodging and expensive meals. With residual inventory and a few deliveries outstanding, we began to travel. The first delivery was to Danielle Steele’s immense city property; without adequate parking, we double-parked, and in the process of unloading, sold several pieces right there on the sidewalk. Recognizing this opportunity, we adopted a sales tactic for the rest of the trip: feigning a flat tire in wealthy neighborhoods to unload a portion of the truck for sales.
We continued down the coast, with a successful stop at the Nepenthe in Big Sur, followed by a delivery to the Acme Sound Studios in Los Angeles (since closed). It was raining heavily, and the owner allowed us to unload the inventory in his lobby. A prominent recording artist, there for a session, came in and bought several pieces. He spoke to his friends about us, and we continued selling through the weekend, all the way home.
I arrived back six weeks later, having paid off all my student loans and inadvertently launched a career in Antiquities. In the years that followed, this foundation allowed me to earn my way, importing directly from the historic trade centers of Uzbekistan, Pakistan, Afghanistan, the Caucasus Mountains, India, Tibet, Nepal, Iran, and Turkey. I opened my store with a partner who was friends with Stanley Marcus, founder of Neiman Marcus. Mr. Marcus refined efforts with the development of vision statements, style guides, operational systems and procedures, and an old-world sense of exceeding customer expectations.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
My professional journey has been dreamy. For years, I maintained a partnership with a firm based outside of Venice, Italy, necessitating several trips a year to Venice. Concurrently, I dedicated substantial effort to a non-profit committed to combating child labor in Southeast Asia, even serving as co-chair for a period. The organization’s board was comprised of progressive leaders, including Senator Tom Harkin and the President of the United Way in the US. This role provided the opportunity to attend the Clinton Global Initiative and, in the course of my global engagement, to meet with a diverse range of influential figures—Ambassadors, Presidents, Prime Ministers, Nobel Laureates, and corporate heads—alongside the many children whose lives the organization helped transform. This humanitarian work stands out as the most fulfilling of my career.
My clientele has been as varied as it is distinguished, encompassing successful individuals from across the globe, from dignitaries and public figures to entrepreneurs and pedigreed European families, as well as hundreds of inspiring people from all walks of life.
Following the closure of my shop in 2011, I struggled for a bit, ending a marriage and reassessing, before finding myself here. I am now fortunate to be pursuing this next chapter in Los Angeles, living a life I value with those I love. As an example, I bought Kelly’s Wearstlers’ first books and even stayed at the Viceroy to appreciate what she was doing. Since coming here, I have worked with her on several things. I really feel like I’ve had a pretty direct course forward.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know?
I consult with companies that shape the design world—advising on everything from product design and development and strategic direction to staff training and branding. My work is focused on finding the distinguishers, sharpening focus, streamlining operations, and pursuing market dominance. After all, we should all be the very best at what we do. The desire to grow is shared by everyone, but the way to success is not often clearly marked. Frequently, the people who founded the company are not the right people to chart the way forward. It often requires a trusted, outside voice to step back, assess the original vision, and ultimately, recapture the magic.
Is there any advice you’d like to share with our readers who might just be starting out?
I might not be the right person to advise someone starting out, as my course was unconventional. I grew up a solidly middle-class kid on a remote ranch in the mountains. I had no business aspiring to the elevated world of art, design, and international travel. Yet here I am. I might have been too willing to take risks; there have been some moments of extremely high pressure and anxiety where I could have very easily failed. In my own way, I think, I’ve plodded forward, somewhat stupidly maybe, perhaps I’ve even been a little delusional. At the same time, who am I to question? I have been favored by events and the circumstances. I will recommend two things that seem to have kept me going.
First, be ready for the moment of opportunity; it may only last a second. Miguel Rojas’s game 7 home run for the Dodgers comes to mind. He was ready for the exact moment when his years of preparation were most needed. Have your script ready to read. Have your elevator pitch honed. Dress for photo ops.
Second, work harder than everyone else. Get up early, talk to people, and do the essential work. For this, I’ve been directed by Eleanor Roosevelt, who said, “You must do the thing you think you cannot do”.

