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Meet Nathalie G Guerin of Dallas-Fort Worth

Today we’d like to introduce you to Nathalie G Guerin.

Hi Nathalie G, so excited to have you on the platform. So before we get into questions about your work-life, maybe you can bring our readers up to speed on your story and how you got to where you are today?
Years ago, I found myself in New York with my daughter – fresh out of high school, fearless, and moving to the city on her own to begin her culinary career. She had a tiny apartment in the Financial District, big dreams, and of course… her dog, Yuki. Like any good mom, I was there to help her get settled, make sure she had the essentials, and silently question every life choice that led to this level of independence.. After a long day of shopping, we made our way back on the subway, passing through the Oculus Transportation Hub which, if you’ve ever been, you know is basically the unicorn of New York. Gleaming white floors, stunning architecture, not a crumb, not a stain, not a hint of chaos. It felt less like a subway station and more like a sacred, spotless temple of commuting. And then… Yuki stopped. You know that stop. That very specific, very committed, this is happening whether you like it or not stop. Before we could process what was unfolding – there it was. Right in the middle of hundreds of rushing New Yorkers. On the bright, glowing, impossibly clean white floor. Yuki. Had. Pooped. Time froze. I’m fairly certain the entire Oculus dimmed slightly in disappointment. We had no bag, no wipe, and no dignity. My daughter took off running like she was competing in an Olympic event called Emergency Dog Situation, leaving me alone with the crime scene, and in that moment – fueled by panic and a deep sense of civic duty – I did the only thing I could think of: I straddled it. Yes, I stood over the poop like a human traffic cone, shielding innocent commuters from what could only be described as a catastrophic footwear situation, as people rushed past me probably wondering why this woman was hovering protectively over the floor in a semi-squat with unwavering focus. What felt like three to five business days later, my daughter returned – out of breath – with a bag so thin it could have doubled as a whisper, and I took it knowing full well this was about to be a character-building experience. And let me tell you… it was. Warm, squishy, and emotionally destabilizing – I’m not saying I gagged, but I absolutely gagged. We did our best, truly, but despite our heroic efforts there were still… traces. Smears. Evidence. A lingering reminder of what had just occurred. My daughter and I locked eyes, and in that silent exchange a decision was made – WE RAN. Full exit. No looking back. We became those dog owners. The ones people talk about. The ones who leave behind… a legacy. On the walk home, somewhere between horror and scars of embarassment, we kept saying the same thing over and over: “If we only had a wipe…” and just like that, the idea stuck. Here’s the thing – we all carry bags (well except for us), we all try to do the right thing, but no one talks about what happens after, the mess you didn’t plan for, the moments you can’t un-feel. So I spent years creating what should have existed all along: Double Dootie – a dog poop bag with a built-in wipe, because sometimes you need a bag, and sometimes you need a wipe, and sometimes… you really, really need both. You wash your hands after you go to the bathroom… so why wouldn’t you after picking up dog poop? Thus the birth of Double Dootie was on this day. For clean getaways. Every time. 😛

Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
Smooth road? Not even a little.

One of the biggest challenges has been education and awareness. Once people try Double Dootie, they get it instantly – it’s one of those “where has this been my whole life?” moments. But getting them to try it the first time? That’s the workout. You’re essentially asking people to rethink a routine they’ve had forever… around dog poop. Not exactly a dinner party conversation starter.

And then there’s the financial side. There are plenty of people with great ideas – but far fewer with a pile of cash just sitting around waiting to fund them. So it’s been a lot of pinching pennies, stretching dollars, and having very serious conversations with myself like, “Do we need this… or do we need inventory?” Spoiler: it’s always inventory.

It hasn’t been easy, but it has been worth it. If anything, the challenges have made me more creative, more resourceful, and very, very good at making every dollar work overtime.

Thanks – so what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
I’d say I live somewhere between creative director and “person who can’t stop making things.”

On one side, I’ve spent 30+ years in marketing, graphic design, and creative direction – building brands for other companies and helping them show up in a way that actually makes sense. I’m known for taking big ideas and turning them into something clear, clean, and easy to connect with.

At some point, I thought… why am I not doing this for myself? I have ideas all the time…honestly, sometimes I wish my brain had an off switch, but it doesn’t.

On the other side, I’m an artist, which is a slightly less structured version of the same brain. I create tactile textile pieces that people can actually touch and experience which, in the art world, feels a little rebellious. It’s less about explaining and more about feeling… and occasionally watching someone close their eyes in front of your work and hoping they’re having a moment and not just taking a nap.

What sets me apart is that mix. I think like a strategist but create like an artist. So whether I’m building a brand or a product like Double Dootie, I’m always thinking about how it looks, how it works, and how it makes people feel.

With Double Dootie, it wasn’t just another idea. It felt like something that could genuinely help people (and maybe society as a whole). Just think of all those dog walkers eating french fries after they walk their dog. And worst case? I figured I’d at least have a product I would personally use religiously for the rest of my life… which, honestly, is still a win.

What were you like growing up?
I was basically a walking box of ideas. Curious about everything and always trying to figure out how things worked (or how they could work better). I loved exploring, whether that meant taking something apart, rearranging it, or coming up with a completely different way to use it. I was creative in that “there has to be a solution here somewhere” kind of way, and I was usually determined to find it.

I also had a habit of turning the simplest things into little projects. Not because they needed to be, but because my brain couldn’t help itself. If there was a problem, I wanted to solve it. If there wasn’t a problem, I might accidentally invent one just so I could fix it.

And yes… very forgetful. My head was (and still is) so full of ideas that the practical things sometimes didn’t stand a chance. But in a funny way, that mix – constantly thinking, creating, and occasionally forgetting where I put my keys – is pretty much the same person I am today, just with a bit more structure around it.

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