At 44 (cripes, I still can't say that numbe out loud without flinching a little), one would think that I have learned all the big life lessons. I've had 44 years of the "the moral of the story is...", I should be done. Alas. Not so.
The "big" Kohler show was a protracted, painful, 3-day lesson in the grass isn't always greener on the other side." It's just more expensive.
I had expectations. I admit it. Big fancy, American Club, expectations. I spent months (months, I'm not kidding) prepping for this show. Buying stock. Alot of it. Dying stock. Alot of it. Configuring displays. Artfully problem solving how I was going to jam all my stuff in a too small, very expensive space. I was prepared and ready to sell.
What's that saying? Make plans, God laughs.
What I wasn't prepared for was the staggeringly bad loction of my booth. Location is everything. Of 101 vendors, I was 101. Stuck way in the back of the "Bay de Noc" room. The American Club venue is truly magnificent. It's opulence and over indulgence at it's finest. The doormen wear top hats with black wool coats with red trim. It's nice. I want to live there.
All of the other rooms have 2 doorways, creating "flow". The Bay de Noc room is a conference room broom closet. One entrance, like a hallway. There is no flow. There is only the average patron taking half a dozen steps inside, craning their neck to get a lay of the land, turning and leaving.
Strike One.
I also wasn't prepared for having another artisit that sold the EXACT SAME STYLE dresses as I do, 2 booths over.
Not kidding.
Hand dyed.
Not kidding.
Althought his were painted with little birds (ok, ewww). I am all for healthy competition but geez-oh-petes. There weren't that many childrens vendors, break it up a little.
And the artist was a head-case. Running over to my booth ever 20 minutes, checking my price points (mine were $28 - his were $32). He actually said to me and I quote "Your stuff is pretty but mine is a better value since there is more embellishment". What a tool. Please leave my too small, expensive 8x10 booth.
Strike Two.
And the most important thing I wasn't prepared for, and I should know, is the market dictates everything. Tye Dye just isn't beloved in the northern parts of Wisconsin. It's definately a Madison area type product. For good or for ill -- people associate tye dye with hippies. These weren't my people. These people wanted chickadees painted on heathered green dresses, not bright rainbow swirls.
Strike Three.
So for three staggeringly long days, I endured barely (and I mean barely) enough sales to cover my over-priced booth fee and my hotel. At the end of my show I took my bruised ego and my over-abundance of tye dye, packed up and went home.
Big. Heavy. Sigh.
No comments:
Post a Comment