The Tale of a Craft Market Fail

Thursday, June 28, 2012

In an attempt to be more productive, I have started going through the products of my various crafting ventures. Some of them are good, some not so much...but none of them suck. Have you been in a Claire's? They are way better than what they sell there, and my stuff won't give you lead poisoning. Anyway, one day I was wondering out loud what I should do with said chachkies. My husband, always quick to fix my woes whether warranted or not, found a local farmer/crafter's market at which I could peddle my wares. So last Thursday I packed up my stuff and headed down, a little nervous to be putting myself out there via my creations. I should not have wasted my time one was there to see them. I was one of about 8 tables set up (and the only one without a canopy), it was ninety-five degrees with a cloudless sky (did I mention no canopy?), and I was stationed next to lamb meat. Between the entry fee, a jar of pickles, cherries, and a froyo run, we ended up about $30 in the red and I sold...nothing. Oof. It's not because my jewelry sucks, right?

Fast forward to today. At 2pm, my son and I arrived bright-eyed and bushy tailed, ready to give this another go. I put out all my best summery pieces. Forty-five minutes later I had sold nothing, my skin was starting to crackle despite my sunscreen application, and we were $15 in the hole due to my son's new found pickle addiction and the entry fee. Double oof.

After about two hours, I started to think this thing was hopeless and I must be displaying a table of turds, not jewelry. I made another realization as well...this was not my kind of crowd. Here I am trying to sell mod-looking jewelry composed of funky vintage beads and brooches, yet the women walking by look like they haven't been properly introduced to mascara, let alone accessories. I started to wonder why I even bothered applying rouge this morning...maybe I would have fit in better without it.

The day was not a complete failure, however, as I got some very useful feedback:

"Do you have to pay to be here? Only $5?" Then looking at her daughter, "You should bring your anklets and stuff to sell...they're actually good!"

"I love this ring, but I'd be too worried the cool part would just fall off."

And my personal favorite: "This ring looks like a boob!"

The ring in question. Okay, so it's a tit bit nipple-y. But answer me this: What is more womanly than wearing a boob ring?

Let's be clear: I have also thought on several occasions that the ring looked like a boob. But I would never, ever say that to someone crisping in the sun in front a table full of duds. The organizers of this craft fair are selling it short! How could they fail to mention what a morale booster it is? As I packed up my sad, unsold pieces, I vowed never to return. It's not worth the blow to my self esteem and the leathering of my skin. But wait, next Thursday will be July 5! The crowd will be much better because of the holiday. Oh yeah, there will definitely be some people who can appreciate my art form. For. Sure. Wait! How is this happening...again?

In all fairness, this afternoon was not a total loss. I got to play Cat's Cradle over and over again with the man of my dreams. I felt like I was in junior high again! I haven't wanted to rock a side pony that bad in a looong time.

My pathetic craft market adventure was then followed by a "better luck next time!" dinner date with the same handsome fella. He has a mastery of "Cat's Whiskers" like no one I have ever met.

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