Today, we continue our ongoing feature — Agency Insider. We all know agencies have amazing physical spaces. But unless you work at a specific shop, you might never get a chance to see how cool they truly are. Until now. Email us at the@denveregotist for details on having you agency featured.

Victors & Spoils opened its doors in October of 2009. And, until recently, we called West Pearl in Boulder “home.” But in 2012 we found ourselves both growing up and growing out. Our polarizing little endeavor, which began with five people and a couple of dogs running around what then seemed like a laughably cavernous space, was now pushing 30 employees. And cavernous had become cramped. So in November of 2012, we packed up and made the move to East Pearl Street. Spruce Confections was – with some initial reluctance – traded in for Boxcar Coffee. Lolita’s made way for Dish Gourmet. And post-work brews moved from West End to Mateo.

Our new building was in the process of being renovated at the time of our move, but building owner John Reynolds was kind enough to shuffle the construction schedule to let us in early. It wasn’t without compromise, however, as we didn’t have bathrooms for three months. A character-building experience of sorts. So a huge thanks to Dish Gourmet for warmly welcoming us to the block by sharing their, um, facilities. And to the construction workers who allowed grown men wearing chunky glasses and skinny jeans to use their porta potty.

Despite the challenge of the yet-to-be finished bathrooms, the new space had one pretty wonderful thing the old one didn’t: light. The old space, by the time we left, had earned the less-than-affectionate nickname, “the cave.” The new space, in a refreshing contrast, has windows on both the North and South ends, giving everything a more vibrant, open feel. We had a garage door installed on the South end to allow those nice Boulder breezes to blow though. And to give everyone a quick means of escape on Friday at quitting time. Most importantly, we’ve gone from zero conference rooms at 821 Pearl (seriously) to four at 1904 Pearl.

Before it was a light- and conference room-filled space, our new building had been many things. It had, like a few of our crew, a bit of a checkered past. It’d been a private residence, a furniture store (pictured), an appliance distributor, a business center, the Boulder Co-Op and most recently, Skratch Labs.

When we moved in, the office was a blank canvas. Our goal was to keep the space open, communal and collaborative, with enough room to provide workspace for any visiting client, freelancer or friend. And space, when we first moved, was pretty much the only thing we had. That, and a fairly tight budget. But we’ve slowly but surely populated it with help from a few select local businesses.

Our conference room tables, kitchen table and breakfast bar were built by Rocky Mountain Table Company out of Denver (Tell Donnie that V&S sent ya). And our lobby was generously furnished by Factory Made, a furniture and design studio here in Boulder that supports local artists and furniture builders. Special thanks to Leah Brenner for how killer our lobby looks.

Our conference rooms – now that we have them – all have nicknames. Some that they’ve earned – "Echo" has a bit of an acoustic issue, for example – and some that they’ve been given. When one of our community members – Michael Collado – reached 1,000 ideas submitted, we wanted to commemorate his accomplishment. So we commissioned this modest little oil painting from agency friend Megan Jones, and named our main conference room after him. His affinity for Hawaiian shirts, as depicted in the painting, is accurate. The pecs, he tells us, are not.

While most agencies have a foosball or ping pong table, we have our very own V&S-branded Cornhole set. What can we say, we like to keep things classy. The Victors & Spoils Cornhole tournament is an ongoing Friday afternoon activity, complete with brackets, beer and plenty of shit talk. C’mon by so Jen Miller can tell you how much better she is at throwing bean bags into a small hole than you are.

Cave-like though it was, we’ll always have a soft spot for our first office space. It’ll live on in memory…a nd in this $2 frame from IKEA in our new lobby.

Photos by Paul Talbot