artwork made by hand for juice press and reused at goodsugar
Nothing to do with the juice industry. This was the first book I ever published, back in 2000. My friend and skydiving buddy Kim Emerson had helped me graduate from skydiving training a few years earlier.
cilantro, celery, pineapple, lemon, and ginger. I am having one right now!
eat the truth, I use this as a fav icon
Innovation was always an important part of our food company. We were constantly developing new products, and I think that was absolutely the right thing to do. I actually thought selling pickles was a great idea. I had suggested it to my partner a couple of years earlier because it made a lot of sense for the business, but we weren't ready for it at the time. Anyway, when we finally got around to doing it, the execution was horrible. We put these disgusting, cheesy-looking pickle barrels right on top of the
Here with the super-talented Shom C., who was actually the COO of Juice Press at one point, before Peter came along. He and I used to ride our Harleys around New York City, going from store to store, and he really got a thrill out of that. When my new partner, MK, got involved, the whole atmosphere changed. It was a completely different experience for Shoma, and he was pretty bummed out about it. Eventually, he decided to resign.
This is funny to me. I remember walking through Central Park about a year and a half after Juice Press opened and spotting one of our bags in a random garbage can, pretty far from our closest store. I remember thinking, wow, the company is growing. I'm starting to see traces of it in random places around New York City. It was such a small thing, but I was really proud.
This is just a decal wall covering I made using artwork from another bookmark I designed, which also became a pamphlet. It was called “Don’t Listen to Your Parents,” and it was kind of humorous, basically talking about how nobody really understands anything, least of all your parents.
Mind-blowingly terrible execution of selling pickles at one of our stores, and possibly a few others. We made this cheesy-ass wooden pickle barrel, slapped a decal on it, put it on the counter, and then stuck a jar of pickles inside the fucking wooden box. It was so stupid. It looked ridiculous. And whenever someone wanted a pickle, a staff member had to stop what they were doing, open the barrel, fish out a pickle, find a wax paper bag, and put the pickle inside. The whole thing made absolutely no sense
This was a silly fake product I made for a Juice Press Instagram post a long time ago. Just having some fun with the brand.
By the time this store opened, which I think was on Lexington and 77th Street, we were basically just building kitchens. There wasn't much real style or personality to the stores anymore. Everything was too black, too much stainless steel, and quite honestly, too corporate.
I can't remember which Juice Press this was, maybe 51st and Third. I'd handwrite lettering with white paint markers, photograph it, and turn it into permanent decals. Looking back, I should have covered the entire fridge with my handwritten rants about health. That would have been much cooler.
This is what we thought of as good style back in 2015 and 2016: a refrigerator densely packed with products in plastic bottles. By the time I started goodsugar, I had lost my taste for this look. I thought the products looked much nicer in glass jars, sitting on ice. I experimented with the idea in a pop-up and really liked both the functionality and the appearance of glass jars in an open ice chest. But looking back, this refrigerator at our Empire State Building Juice Press store was still impressive.
Jessica Alba leaving Juice Press #5 on Greenwich Avenue in New York City, sometime between 2015 and 2018.
Circa 2014–2015. My favorite car of all time. A Cadillac Escalade with no roof rack. I used industrial-strength zip ties to keep the back secured, and I had a sign on it that got an incredible amount of attention: “NOT UBER.”
I can't even remember what this was supposed to be. This was from our Juice Press food kitchen in Long Island City, NYC, sometime around 2016.
Circa 2010: This was one of the first pieces of artwork I created for Juice Press. It was printed as a bookmark.
Empire State Building, 33rd Street. We had a Juice Press store there. This was me looking into the fridge after an evening of installing decals throughout the new store.
This was the artwork I came up with to cover the two doors of a large refrigerator at Juice Press on Murray Street.
this was a deceal imade and slap tagged about 50 of these around joe and the juice locations that wer close to juice press, circa 2014
At Juice Press on Greenwich Street, the team put an enormous amount of time and effort into developing a clean tapioca bowl and building a kitchen specifically for making bubble tea. Thanks to Chef Daniel, the product was actually really good. But the execution was terrible. They chose probably the worst possible location to launch it. Instead of introducing it at one of our best stores, like 22nd Street, they buried it in Tribeca, in a store that customers had to climb five steps just to enter.
Taking a walk with the great Kenny D., probably about ten years ago, somewhere around 42nd Street, I believe. We were just around the corner from his Wheels Up operations, before the company went public and before he moved into a massive office somewhere near 11th Avenue, if I remember correctly. Long live Kenny Dichter.
A fantastic postcard from back in the day. The front featured a 3D image of my daughter Luna when she was six years old. The back side was insanely inappropriate.
This was a draft of a piece of artwork I drew in a notebook. I don't remember what I was planning to do with it, and I don't think I ever actually used it. But I'm glad I have this photo because it reminds me how much time I used to spend making artwork and ranting about things. That was my form of meditation. It still is today.
The first Juice Press opened in 2010 on East First Street, and this was the first piece of printed material I made for the store. I believe it was a postcard. I put a stack of them in a stainless steel postcard tray, and people would go berserk with laughter when they saw it. It was so surprising and so unbelievably inappropriate. Looking back, I think it was one of the most important brand-building postcards from the early days of Juice Press.
When we needed point-of-sale displays for a retail chain, I liked making them out of practically indestructible materials like stainless steel and then covering them with decals. Looking back, I could have done a better job with the design by leaving some of the stainless steel exposed instead of covering the whole thing.
I made several stencils and carried them around in my SUV, looking for sidewalks and other spots that were already heavily tagged or vandalized. The photo below also shows a wall of decals featuring my postcards and bookmarks, which were a huge part of Juice Press's original branding. There were so many different designs that taking a card became a thing. When I left Juice Press, they got rid of most of them and replaced them with five or six new designs that I thought were awful.
Circa 2015: Right next door to Juice Press 12, on Rivington, there was a door that kept getting tagged up. So I decided to make a stencil with the Juice Press hashtag and hit it a few times myself.
This was a social media post from sometime around 2015 or 2016, long before artificial intelligence. I made it by hand in Photoshop. It was a cute idea based on the fact that I had to lock up my own coffee because every time I opened the refrigerator, someone had taken a sip.
A neon sign I had made for my apartment by a sign maker who worked out of a basement on Delancey Street. I sold it for $200 when I moved out.
Juice Press on 83rd Street. A tiny store, but in hindsight, an A+ location. Unfortunately, it was too small to compete with the volume Juice Generation was doing right down the block.
This was a quick idea I had to show customers what each protein looked like, along with a short description. Simple, useful, and visually interesting. Marcus, it's time to make some cool shit like this for goodsugar. Let's go!
My father, David, owned the only Juice Press franchise we ever had. His store was the highest-grossing in the company. Eventually, he sold it back to us and returned to the art gallery business. I designed this phone booth ad around 58th and Third Avenue, about five blocks from his store, back when New York still had phone booths.
Wall art at Juice Press #5 on Greenwich Avenue. Six-foot-tall decals. Circa 2018.
This is a photo of a great friend and a great man, Rex Hughes. An icon in the East Village. A dog trainer, a physical trainer, a priest, a monk. I don't even know how to describe him. He was a million different things, but above all, he was a wonderful human being who was always there for me. I have a lot of love and respect for this man. A little tribute to someone I'll always remember. Long live Rex.
Mario (in black, on the right). RIP, 2026. For 10 to 12 years, Mario held the Juice Press kitchen together, doing the work of four hardworking people. He passed away suddenly this summer. Just a few weeks earlier, he came to visit Peter and me at goodsugar and ended up spending the day helping in our kitchen. He just couldn't help himself. He had to work! What an incredible man. Rest in peace, Mario.
I have no idea when this was taken, and I don't know who this woman is, but apparently she's somebody famous. Famous enough that we wanted to take a picture of her on the set of Entourage holding a Juice Press bottle. Thanks to Kenny Dichter and Russell Wilson for making this happen.
Back when camo was really in. Stopping by Juice Press on Rivington Street to say hello to the team, holding those shitty plastic cups, lids, and straws. Looking back, such a juvenile concept.
Me and Thor, star pitcher for the New York Mets, in the back of Juice Press. He was a frequent guest and a friend of one of our main investors.
Me and my wife, Teresa, in Seattle, preparing to open a Juice Press location in collaboration with the great Russell Wilson, who was quarterback for the Seattle Seahawks at the time.
Here’s Michael Karsch sitting in the back of my father’s Juice Press store, in my dad’s chair, likely after my father sold the store back to us in 2014. Peeking his chin into the photo is Peter Kay.
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