(Image via Sarah Feingold)
Ed. note: Please welcome Sarah Feingold to our pages. She’ll be writing about her experiences working as in-house counsel for startup companies.
Company name: biggest print.
First name, last name, and job title: small print.
I didn’t spend money to attend this conference, but I was afraid I was about to pay dearly. I slip the nametag over my neck, the wrong way, so that my shirt reads my personal information. The check-in professional doesn’t notice as she’s now taking information from the lawyer behind me in line.
I have much experience working in a small subset of the legal profession. I’m an in-house attorney at a well-funded or well-known tech company. That means that along with the zip-up hoodies, engineer talk, office dogs, and hand-crafted cold brew on tap, comes my least favorite perk. I’ll be one of the most popular people in a room full of esquires. I’m a potential client. I assume I look exactly like walking, talking, name-badge-wearing money. Money that may be small today, but has the potential to grow up to be significant cash flow. I’m a guppy in a room of hungry sharks and I’m in no mood to be eaten.
I take my seat, usually in the very front row. Instead of chatting with attendees, I hope to absorb all the content in this narrow and deep area of law. I feverishly jot down notes to report back to my team and CEO.
According to Wikipedia, “a unicorn is a privately held startup company valued at over $1 billion.[1] The term was coined in 2013 by venture capitalist Aileen Lee, choosing the mythical animal to represent the statistical rarity of such successful ventures.”[2][3][4][5] A baby unicorn is defined (by me) as a company that investors or the press thinks, one day, hopefully soon, may mature into a unicorn.
In 2007, I was the 17th employee and first lawyer of a baby unicorn, Etsy. For nine-plus years I supported Etsy through its unicorn trajectory to public company status. And then I landed the role of Vroom’s general counsel and first lawyer. The only way I could have avoided malpractice and stayed sane throughout this process is through my carefully cultivated network of similarly situated magical in-house tech attorneys and hand-selected outside counsel.
All outside counsel must have a common mission for the long-term prosperity of my fragile, rare, golden-horned relative of a horse. Not all relationships have gone as planned. I’ve hired, fired, and worked with dozens of law firm lawyers. I have stories to tell.
I write this column to share some pro tips for nourishing a rare client creature so that when a fledgling animal is spotted out in the wild, cold emailed, or introduced, you will know what to do. Pull up a seat in the front row. Take some notes. Because nametags often flip.
Sarah was the General Counsel / first Lawyer at Etsy and Vroom. She’s a co-founder of The Fourth Floor, a creator and producer of Legal Madness, an NYU Law School Engelberg Center fellow, a board member, an investor, and a speaker. You can also find Sarah hammering silver, eating candy, and chasing her child. sarahfeingold.com.