Sometimes I wonder about my idealism. It interferes with my realistic side and leads me down paths I don’t necessarily need to travel. This idealism and optimism is increased when you throw one more person like me into the mix.
So, when Jess called me at noon last Saturday and said “Do you want to get some stuff ready to sell next week at Harvest Home?” I, of course, had to say yes.
I spent the week thinking about what I could get done quickly and still have a polished look. I worked on a few things--as much as I could do reasonably, with working a 40-hour week and taking this online class. Those few things amounted to about eight little handmade books, five bracelets, and a few projects which had been sitting, unfinished, in my apartment for quite some time.
Friday rolled around. Crunch time. I went to Wade’s ball game, and jetted over to Jess’s when it was over so we could assess our inventory. Not much. Not much at all. So we ventured into El Dorado, to the super Wal-Mart. Grabbed some last-minute supplies and, of course, cappuccino, and then rushed back to the shop.
It was a nightmare. What we had finished didn’t amount to anything, really, that would return our investment in supplies, and what we had left to do was several different, time-consuming projects. It was midnight before we had our supplies spread out and started the frenzied craft session. Jess at the sewing machine, making adorable denim purses, and me on the floor bouncing between making more books and dying shirts and onesies…
We ran almost totally out of steam around 3 AM. We sat, staring at our mess, smoking cigarettes and talking about how completely fucking insane we are for jumping into this at such a last-minute pace. And we started working together on the shirts, waiting for Rita to show up to the Café, where the coffee was.
So we drank coffee at the Café. And we went back to the shop for another frenzied hour of crafting and dying and sewing and cutting and gluing… And talking about how insane we are.
The sun came up. We cleared some of our materials off the concrete floor, started gathering finished objects and set out to construct our booth.
What a nightmare. What we had to work with was two ropes tied to poles in the parking lot of the shop, and a few sheets of this strange, holey, tarp-like material. And acrylic yarn to attach it. Ugh. It lasted until the parade was over.
So we set out our goods. It wasn’t much, and we started to panic. Here we are, with all our shit set up on Main Street in Leon. People we know walking around, and us insanely unprepared, exhausted, and frustrated--mostly with ourselves.
We sat there for an hour and a half. Three people came to look at our things, but no one wanted any of it. Then we decided to quit. After all night of one of us or the other saying “Should we give up?” and the other one saying “We’ve come way too far to quit,” we quit.
So, we were failures this year. We’re okay with it. Honestly, I think that without the exhaustion and with a little more tactical marketing we would have been alright.
Some good did come out of all this chaos. We have a small stockpile for the future. We have a name for ourselves. We have an idea of the products we’d like to focus on, and what we can be working on over the winter to have ready for next year’s festival season.
So for now, I’m going to try to work out some typography for our cards, and get my lists done of things that did and didn’t work out. I’ve got another full week of work and school ahead of me… And a test to take tonight. So, I’d better get going.
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