In case you didn't happen to be drifting through the Kensington Olympia last Thursday and Friday, Smarta was there for the Business Startup Show. Bad luck if you didn't, we were handing out free Smarties. Cue lots of chocolate-hungry small business hopefuls coming to talk to us. We loved it.

Do you know what question we were asked most? "How much does Smarta cost?" Having been bombarded with a whole exhibition-full of high-price pitches all day, people just couldn't believe that we weren't trying to sell them something.

Now, we're not about to get into a long self-promoting blog post about how wonderful it is that Smarta is free (you know that already). But the question reveals the mindset of all the startups visiting that fair. They expected to be hit with a fee for everything.

Which is fair enough, because nigh-on every stand there was trying to sell to them. We came across one poor woman who, having bought every type of business insurance under the sun already, was suddenly very panicked because someone offering 'free' advice had told her she needed yet another form of protection. She was led to believe it was a legal requirement. We had to tell her it wasn't - he was just trying to make a sell from the consultation.

It's a very sad fact that there are a lot of companies out there who prey on start-ups' vulnerabilities - the fact that you won't yet know precisely how much everything should cost or what you really need.

It's not just at startup shows. Beware the 'social media experts' charging £350 a seminar, the developers whispering in your ear that you definitely need that extra functionality that, oh-by-the-way, will cost you another £1,000, the investor-matching service that demands several hundred pounds before you've sealed any kind of deal. All are all-too-common.

To break the cycle, you have to stop expecting things to cost you hundreds, and start expecting things to be free or cheap. If you don't start your business with that mindset, your costs are going to escalate quicker than you'll ever be able to afford.

You also need to learn to negotiate, hard. Read out guide on negotiation in business for help there.

Crucially, you have to learn to spot a rip-off when you see one. It's not easy. We'll be writing  series of smartbites to help you, as we've seen just how prolific the problem is, so keep your eyes out for those.

You also need to get very much into the habit of asking your peers for
recommendations and advice. Swallow any pride you may have, and ask those people you know who've been there and done it what you should be doing next. Ask the Smarta community for advice. Read our case studies. (Okay, this blog does contain a fraction of self-promotion, but it's necessary!)

Don't make any buying decision without giving yourself time to think about it first, and time to discuss it with your peers. Finding a business mentor will help you hugely.

Don't let anyone rush you into a purchase, however a good a deal they make it sound.

You'd be amazed at how much you can wangle for free, either be asking nicely, trading your skills with someone else's or offering the person in question plenty of paid-for business once you've got things off the ground.

You just have to keep your wits about you and consult your peers regularly.

Smarta is proud to announce the launch of the Smarta 100, our search for Britain's smartest businesses.

From the West Highlands to Westfield we're looking for the high-street heroes, market traders on a mission, eBay entrepreneurs, budding Bransons and the emerging big businesses of tomorrow.

We want to hear from the most exciting, promising, disruptive new businesses, the family businesses who remain the cornerstones of communities, the innovators ploughing their own furrows in staid or declining industries, the recession-busters making a mockery of the doom and gloom, the web wonders, the teenpreneurs, mumpreneurs, olderpreneuers and, er, just about anyone who's running a small business worth shouting about.

We're going to be speaking to our network of entrepreneurs, business leaders and advisors, to investors, to business organisations, networking clubs, and PRs. Heck, we'll be walking straight in off the street, and phoning, emailing and downright stalking just about every business we love.

Entries will be subjected to rigorous scrutiny by our panel of judges which includes Dragons' Den star Deborah Meaden, Coffee Republic founder Sahar Hashemi and Pimlico Plumbers' Charlie Mullins.

Winners will be featured on the Smarta website as an example and inspiration for aspiring entrepreneurs, and be invited to an exclusive event in London where they will be able to network with the Smarta 100 judges and other Smarta backers.

Think you've got what it takes? Find out more and enter at www.smarta.com/smarta100.

Name: SendSocial

Launched: Yesterday

What is it, then?

A 'revolutionary' new way to send packages and parcels, the idea is you don't need to know someone's physical address to send them a present.

Eh?

All you need to do is enter their Twitter username or email address. The system then sends them a Tweet or an email asking whether they would like to receive the package, and where they would like to receive it. A courier picks it up and delivers it within five working days.

Very clever. But isn't that a tiny bit, er, stalky?

Yes, a tiny bit. Not as stalky as Foursquare, though. Next question.

Ok. Who's involved?

The people behind the company are entrepreneurs from all over the country - from Newcastle to London - and there's even someone from Denmark. The company's chief executive is 27-year-old Glen Richardson from Barrow-in-Furness - but most notably, the company has engaged the services of the insurmountable Ben Way.

Ben Way? Haven't I heard that name before?

Why yes, there's a good chance you have. The diminutive serial entrepreneur is probably most notable for appearing in the Sunday Times Rich List on the same day he couldn't afford a tube ticket after he fell out with investors aged just 19, but he's also appeared on the Secret Millionaire and is behind a number of other tech companies. It was Way who came up with the idea of promising 100 Twitter users a stake in SendSocial if they tweeted about it.

Really? What happened there?

Way originally asked for feedback on the idea back in March. He then sent out a message promising 10% of SendSocial's shares to anyone who retweeted him. 148 people responded - although just 111 answered a request to register at a shareholders' portal.

Giving 10% of equity away? Doesn't he realise there's a recession on?

He may have given away 10% of the company in one fell swoop - but he also gained valuable feedback on his idea, as well as lots and lots of delicious publicity, and credibility from the Twittering classes.

I suppose. They've been good on timing as well.

They have, haven't they? With postal strikes having conveniently destroyed public faith in Royal Mail and Christmas due to drop in t-minus 30 days, I'd say the timing was downright serendipitous.

The suffragettes may be long gone, but there's still very much a need for a female revolution. And this time, it's personal. Oh, wait, no - it's business, actually.

There just aren't enough female entrepreneurs around. Only 14% of business owners are women, even though that number has been increasing year on year.

This isn't just a fight for gender equality. It's a very real economic need too. 150,000 extra businesses would be created if women started businesses at the same rate men do.

NatWest is trying to do something to counteract this. It's established a team of Women in Business Ambassadors across the UK as part of its Women in Business programme. The team consists of local female relationship managers, with the aim of supporting more women to start-up and grow their business.

It's also launching a mentoring competition in partnership with the Financial Mail on Sunday and everywoman. The prize? Mentoring from none other than Smarta founder Shaa Wasmund.

Two runners-up will also receive mentoring sessions with senior members of the NatWest Women in Business Ambassador team and inspirational female entrepreneurs who have previously won an everywoman award.

Find out and enter here.

In a room full of tech fanboys, it's difficult to imagine Biz Stone being overshadowed by, well, anyone - but government innovation body NESTA managed it quite nicely today by seating the diminutive Twitter founder next to all 6'5" of Stephen Fry - a man who is so beloved by the British public, he gets to decide who is important enough to be commemorated by a blue plaque - thereby effectively giving him control over much of the public's understanding of British history.

The pair were there to discuss social networking - its uses, potential, advantages and drawbacks - as part of NESTA's 'Silicon Valley comes to the UK' season.

It was a bit unfair of them to have seated Fry - eloquent, well-dressed, really, really tall - next to Stone, who by comparison looked like a scruffy, stuttering 12-year-old - but what struck Smarta the most was how the most remarkable ideas come to the most unremarkable people.

Because while Twitter is being hailed by all and sundry as one of the most exciting technological achievements of recent times - so much so that its value now tops $1bn - Stone himself is difficult to describe as having a particularly inspirational personality. He practically shrugged off most questions: "We were just playing around with an idea one of our engineers [Evan Williams] had had," he said. "We weren't especially emotionally involved."

Spotify founder Daniel Ek is similar: when the man responsible for one of the most disruptive music technologies of the past few years was asked that all-important question, 'what's on your iPod?', during a fireside chat a few months ago, his response was depressing in its lack of creativity. "Um, I really like Coldplay," he said. "And U2." The less said about that response, the better, really.

It seems the saying 'never meet your idols' rings true - but really, for most of us, it's encouraging. You may not be Fry-esque in your level of wit and intelligence; and you may not be the most creative person alive - but as long as you have the right idea, you still have a very good chance of success.

Comforting, isn't it?

Last night Smarta got its first close-hand look at Baron Alan Sugar of Clapton since he controversially assumed the position of 'Enterprise Tsar' - a title he rejects.

Speaking at the British Library Business & IP Centre to a crowd of paying small business owners,  Sugar established he wasn't there talk about The Apprentice or deliver a speech, preferring to take questions from the floor as 'they were who he was there to help'.

"I don't need to be doing this, I'm not doing it for a new challenge or anything like that, I'm here to give something back, so you can glean what you can from my experience," he asserted.

Honourable intentions then, but exactly what did Sir Alan share with the 300 small businesses in attendance and those watching via live webcast - and what did we learn about the validity of his role?

The good

As we know only too well from The Apprentice, Sugar specialises in a hackneyed line of 'telling it like it is'. A self-professed 'thick bloke from the East End', he physically recoiled and shifted in disgust at the slightest suggestion small businesses weren't receiving sufficient support - especially from the banks.

His recent rejection of small businesses decrying a lack of bank lending as 'moaners living in Disney World' clearly wasn't an aberration - and if his brief from Downing Street is to deliver a tough message of self-reliance, then he's been perfectly cast.

Self-made from the old school, he was keen to remind a younger audience, 'When I started out in 1966 there was no question of going to a bank and asking for money' and that 'until now too many people have been given too much money to play with'.

Instead, he argued, businesses should spend more time proving their idea works and gaining expertise in a sector before starting-up and seeking finance:

"I didn't leap out of bed one day and suddenly decide 'right I'm going to start my own business', I worked for several years first and gained expertise in a trade. That's the problem with young people, they think it's cool. It's not cool, it's tough."

'Learn from your mistakes', 'only work with people who share your vision and culture' and 'focus on your customer' were Sugar's other snippets of advice - but it was tough-love truths such as 'don't expect hand-outs', 'don't expect anyone to tell you how to do it', 'you've either got a good idea or you haven't' that were most enthusiastically dished out.

Lots of real-world common sense there, and few could argue with what Sugar claims is his single, most important piece of advice: 'Start small and with your own money.'

The bad

Unfortunately Sugar's bluntness proved as limiting as it did refreshing. His 'telling it like it is' style doesn't allow for opinions outside his own viewpoint or experience. As Sir Alan Sugar the self-made millionaire entrepreneur and star of The Apprentice, his brash 'take me how you find me' arrogance has a charm and no shortage of value - he's been there and done it, after all.

But as a public servant, let alone advisor to government and businesses, it simply doesn't work.

The problem stems from Sugar's belief "entrepreneurs are born and you can't learn to be one". He actually satisfactorily clarified this claim by drawing a distinction between entrepreneurs and small business owners, who can learn and develop skills as they go along - only to then contradict himself again when they asked for his help.

On too many occasions he dismissed perfectly valid requests for his views, insight and tips from those very people, with irritated shakes of the head or a cursory 'you've either got it or you haven't' or 'you shouldn't be in business if you don't know that'.

Sugar also seemed to forget that unlike in the Apprentice boardroom and those of his own companies, as Tsar it is his duty is to listen to small businesses - not just dictate to them.

Amid numerous 'haven't you listened to a word I've said?' Apprentice-esque soundbites last night, was a tellingly unsavoury exchange, where he resorted to mocking a young entrepreneur who'd dared to challenge Sugar by revealing how he'd started and run two successful businesses in sectors he'd had no previous experience or expertise in.

"So you're telling me everything I've said is a load of bollocks?" was Sugar's retort - and he wasn't finished. "I don't believe you and you shouldn't poison the minds of the rest of the people in the room with that bullshit."

And this from a man who made computers then bought a football club?

As wise as Sugar's previous words were, there are of course thousands of businesses who are exceptions to his rule and his inability to acknowledge this showed up his limitations as a role model or policy influencer as much as it did his lack of courtesy. Sugar's experience outside his own sector and style of leadership is questionable; and if there is more to him, his comedic straight-talking prevents us from seeing it.

The pointless

All of which begs the question, if he believes entrepreneurship can't be taught; has a reluctance to offer advice beyond 'work it out for yourself'; and hasn't the deference to effectively communicate with people lacking his own 'gut instinct' mentality, then what's the point of Tsar Sugar?

Natural high-achievers rarely are great nurturers of others - truly talented footballers, to whom the ability to drift past players and deliver pinpoint passes is instinctive, can rarely coach others on how to develop the skills they never thought about. And I suspect that's the problem with Alan Sugar.

Yes, Sugar's a brilliant businessman, a worthy 'boy done good' role model and his message of self-reliance is unquestionably of the time - but after that, the role of Tsar is ill-fitting and one he doesn't look comfortable in.

His dutiful defence of Business Link call centres reading advice from scripts was painfully see-through, while championing enterprise and entrepreneurial thinking in schools clashes with his 'you can't learn it', 'business books are only good for propping up wonky tables', 'learn a trade first' mantra.

Heavyweight entrepreneur you can learn lots from studying? Undoubtedly. Effective Enterprise Tsar? No.

Image: BBC

With the headline 'Which Queen? Which speech? Who Cares?' Times columnist Daniel Finkelstein has, Smarta suspects, hit the nail on the head.

And this one felt as though it was particularly inconsequential: with a general election due to take place no later than June 3, few of the Bills mentioned in the speech will ever make it before the statute books.

"Their political foes will point out that laws as gestures or aspirations - promising to halve the deficit, to halve child poverty and to give every child a legal right to good schooling - are worth little more than the paper they're written on," pointed out BBC political editor Nick Robinson: the government's collective imagination is geared more towards making sure The People hear what they want to hear than bringing forward important and/or controversial bills.

So what did she say? Not an awful lot which will have much effect on small businesses - but then again, why mention business when you can promise to halve the deficit or tackle gang crime? Much more appealing to tabloid readers.

In her opening line, she said the government's 'overriding priority is to ensure sustained growth to deliver a fair and prosperous economy for families and businesses, as the British economy recovers from the global economic downturn'.

"By the active creation of jobs, restructuring the financial sector, strengthening the national infrastructure and providing responsible investment, my government will foster growth and employment."

About six months ago, 'small business' enjoyed a brief stint as politics' most hotly-debated issue. In the House of Commons, David Cameron and Gordon Brown battled it out over business rates, while newspapers championed the causes of various entrepreneurs who were struggling to get access to bank funding.

In the run-up to the general election, small businesses must not be forgotten.

Today, though, Finkelstein's predictions were fairly accurate: "This a day when everyone will get dressed up, the Queen will speak, Gordon Brown will speak and David Cameron will speak. Everyone will go home again and nothing of any political significance will have happened."

Smarta found itself chatting with one of the UK's top property CEOs a couple of days ago, about a rebranding exercise his firm had undertaken in recent years. During the process of selecting which branding agency would carry out the work, he had noticed something funny about the way they were all dressed. Each of the five teams that pitched to him came with the same set of indenti-kit marketing-executive looks - like a Village People of the creative industries.

One exec in any given agency would invariably turn up in a plush city-friendly suit. A colleague would be Mr or Ms Laidback de Cool: jeans, slogan T-shirt and white trainers. A third would sport a hairstyle that could be conveyed only by some manic charade-esque gesticulating around the general head area.

It's sartorial spread-betting. Making sure that you cover off all the possible options of how the person you're pitching to might want you to look.

And it's not a bad idea, in theory. The problem is that if the other four agencies pitching do precisely the same thing you look a bit transparent. There is also, surely, some irony in the fact that brand agencies decide to cater for what any number of people might want to see, rather than being decisive about how they want to portray themselves and reigning it in in a more uniform way. That they choose not to present themselves as a brand, through the way they dress.

Perhaps that sounds superficial and contrived - that a business should demonstrate its values through the way it clothes itself. But stuff like that really does matter. If you turn up to the bank to ask for £80,000, you better make damn sure you look like the kind of person who can handle £80,000 responsibly. That doesn't mean blowing your startup capital on a Rolex, but it does mean investing in a well-tailored suit.

And while the suit may feel boring, it's a business staple. It shows you respect the person you're meeting. Pretty important if that's a potential investor or client. Creative industries have slightly more leeway, of course, and in the end the work is what matters. But starting off on the right well-shod foot will make that first meeting go a hell of a lot smoother than if you're the only person wearing a T-shirt in a room full of Versaci-clad angels. In short: if in doubt, wear a suit.

In the never-ending quest to undercut competitors, supermarkets are notoriously ruthless in their treatment of suppliers: stories of exclusivity deals with alarmingly variable terms, companies forcing their suppliers to buy back unsold produce and 90-plus day payment terms are not uncommon.

So it's alarming today's Telegraph carries a warning 'second-tier' supermarkets such as Iceland, Waitrose and Marks & Spencer have underestimated the measures they will need to take to comply with a new code of practice which forces supermarkets to be more scrupulous with suppliers.

The Grocery Supply Code of Practice (GSCOP) is due to replace the more lenient Supermarkets Code of Practice at the beginning of February, banning practices such as retrospectively altering supply terms or asking suppliers to fund promotions, and extending the rules to cover chains beyond the 'big four'.

But the newspaper says some retailers have a 'mountain to climb' if they are to meet the deadline: 'industry insiders' told a reporter some of the chains have 'vastly underestimated how much work needs to be done'.

These doubts aren't new: as far back as July, the Association of Convenience Stores (ACS)  voiced concerns the code wasn't stringent enough when it was revealed its terms weren't compulsory. "Having found that a code is necessary, the [Competition] Commission is proposing a code without teeth," complained the organisation's chief executive, James Lowman.

And back in April when Smarta interviewed Lib Dem shadow chancellor Vince Cable, he emphasised the importance of introducing compulsory terms for large retailers. "Some of the really big commercial operations like Tesco are behaving outrageously," he told us. "There are penalties for late payment under existing legislation, but actually getting those enforced is difficult."

Hit by late payment, a drop in lending and even less realistic payment terms from large customers, small suppliers have had a particularly difficult recession. The Competition Commission needs to flex its muscles on this matter so they can finally hear some good news.

Smarta is feeling slightly more zen-like than usual today. And it's all thanks to one phone call.
Having pilfered thousands of hours of our lives navigating Escher-esque labyrinths of customer service automated options, having languished whole days waiting for customer representatives to pick up the phone, finally it seems one company has got customer service spot on.

Casio's camera department gets three gold stars. We were having awful trouble with a camera battery, you see, that point blank refused to charge. Exhausted, exasperated and more than a little disappointed, we reluctantly resigned ourselves to the fact we'd have to give up the next 45 minutes to get through to someone who'd tell us to send an email to someone who would call us weeks later to tell us we had to buy a new one as we were outside our warranty.

Instead, we found ourselves calling an 0208 number, rather than an extortionate 0845 one. It was answered about as immediately as modern technology will allow, by a polite young gentleman who kindly informed us he would put a new battery in the postbox that day.

Quite the revelation. Now, the digital-camera buffs among you will point out the caveat here. The non-charging battery fault is well known in the echelons of Casio aficionados. The company should of course give you exemplary customer service because they'd previously made a mistake.

But many don't. Smarta had the unfortunate experience of being overcharged £220 for a phone line that didn't actually exist earlier this year, thanks to Virgin Media. Did they instantly recoup us with profuse apologies and a complimentary month of service? Did they billy-o. We had to spend almost an hour being transferred between departments, repeating the same problem to people who continued to try to either sell us more services or install ones we already had.

We then had to wait days until someone called us back by which point we got so stroppy we were put through to a higher level - only to be told we had to go to our bank to get the money back. Good job Virgin Media.

Now contrast a vision of the rage that left us with against the warm, satisfied feeling we were left with after dealing with Casio. It probably costs Casio significantly more to provide that level of customer service. But, boy, is it going to earn them more in the long term through customer loyalty and free marketing thanks to Smarta's appreciative tweet. Whereas Virgin Media gain nothing but a lost contract and a bad rep.

The motto of this story? If you make a mistake, it's not the end of the world, provided you immediately apologise and do everything you can to make it up to the customer in as painless and pleasing a way as possible.

But if you follow up a fault with service equitable with dog defecation - well, that's pretty much as bad as it gets for the customer. That is the end of the world.

And once you've grasped those fundamentals, you can start getting onto the really good stuff: monitoring unsolicited feedback like the above across social media, repsonding instantly to complaints, thanking people for positive comments, and gradually building yourself a fantastic reputation online.

That's what the very cleverest customer service departments around are doing at the moment. And it lets them respond in double-quick time, because they have employees monitoring and using the networks all day long. Now that provides great customer service. But more on that from Smarta soon...