Photograph by Cole Garside
On a recent cold and snowy Wednesday evening, 70 of Laura Berg’s closest friends and family gathered at a pub in Toronto to watch her appearance on the hit CBC show Dragons’ Den. Berg, founder of a company that teaches parents how to communicate with their babies using sign language, had gone on the reality show seeking financial backing for her business from the five “dragons”—Canadian multi-millionaires—way back in May. But for months, she had had to keep the results secret. Entrepreneurs who appear on the show “have to sign a contract: if they tell, we come and kill them,” joked a CBC media relations employee.
Like Berg, more and more contestants are opting for the big reveal: they host parties to celebrate their 15 minutes (or less) of fame, where their family and friends watch the show en masse to discover whether they landed a deal with the dragons. Or not, which—as the two million loyal viewers of the show know—is more commonly the case.
Hosting your own Dragons’ Den viewing party requires a degree of courage. First, contestants have no idea how long they will be on air. Though the pitches average 40 minutes, they are edited for TV to between 30 seconds and seven minutes. Pitchers also have no idea what the “dragons” said about them when they left the room (hint: it’s not always flattering). Even entrepreneurs who secured a deal have no idea how they will come off on television, which is not known as a forgiving medium.
Consequently, there’s an unmistakable frisson of tension at most viewing parties, and Berg’s was no exception. Her friends were nervous she might have bombed. “God, I really hope we’re going to get to party after this,” said one. When the show started at 8 p.m., the room fell silent. Berg huddled close to her husband near the giant TV, clutching a glass of wine, while everyone watched her pitch. After about six minutes, huge applause: the “dragons” had decided to invest in her company! Hooting and hugs all around.
As well as some surprise. “I’m shocked at how well she spoke,” one guest confided. “She’s very shy and quiet, so to see her speaking so eloquently on TV was amazing.”
Also surprising, to everyone including Berg: Brett Wilson, one of the show’s wealthy “dragons” (who has since left the show), turned up at her bash. Guests were floored, but Wilson said he’d been to “at least four or five” viewing parties. “I learn about them from local media. If I’m in the same city, I try to show up.”
Okay, but was he ever at a party hosted by an entrepreneur who did not get a deal? (One has to wonder if contestants would gather their nearest and dearest to watch them fail on national television.) “Yes,” Wilson said. “Even if you don’t get a deal, you get amazing exposure on the show. So people have parties and that brings them even more exposure.”
Photographs by Cole Garside
Barb Stegemann of Halifax hosted a viewing party for her friends in early February. The founder of the fragrance company 7 Virtues says, “I started my business in my garage with a Visa card.” For her, the party was more of a shout-out for friends and family than an exercise in self-celebration. “They have put up with me,” she explains. “They all believed in me from the start. I’m so honoured to have these kinds of friends, so this party was to thank them.”
Stegemann had had a hard time keeping her fate on the show a secret. “I was busting at the seams,” she groans. “I love telling people everything and for me to not be able to tell something that could be the biggest life-altering experience in my life—it was killing me!” Fortunately, her friends, unlike Berg’s, didn’t attempt to pry the truth out of her. “They told me not to tell them what had happened because they couldn’t be trusted,” she laughs.
For her, the most nerve-wracking aspect of her viewing party was watching herself on television. She knew she’d cried during filming. And she knew she was going to cry again when she watched the episode with her friends. Tears of joy, this time: Brett Wilson had cut her a deal.
