craft: a pop-up shop & pondering pricing

Before the pandemic, I would give ceramics away to friends and family or get rid them at the occasional pop-up sales we potters would host and run from our parks and rec community studio. I was exuberant the first time I earned a couple hundred bucks at the annual Christmas show and sale--yay! I could buy more bags of clay. It then became my goal to make enough money to pay for studio time or pottery classes. This holiday season, I was lucky to have a colleague invite me to apply to sell my crafts at an outdoor artists' fair. And she's kindly allowing me to set up my table next to hers.      

And so yesterday, I made an additional sign.                         

I also have a Square device which I need to test. I thought my objective at this sale was just to clear out pots so I could build more pots. That's still the goal. But in all the making of a sale banner and figuring how much to charge for my handmade ceramics and quilts, other goals have emerged. While looking at the pots I liked (and didn't like), I'm feeling like I have a brand or that my pottery has its own look or feel. Zan held up one of my mugs one day and said, "This says Anna." Whereas normally I sell my pottery to passersby who had no intention of buying ceramics at Central Park in San Mateo, I'll be able to check out other makers and see how they sell albeit in a still low-key venue for shoppers whom Zan would say are blue collar. The pots that I'm pricing higher are a soft test for a retail presence. Experiments in clay and their seconds will be $10 to $15, but the pieces I love and that I think express my hand will be $45 to $50. 

And the quilts, oh boy. There's no way most markets can bear the cost of making a quilt. People who don't sew and shop mostly from Amazon and warehouse and off-price department stores don't recognize the cost and quality of fabrics that are tightly woven, color-fast cottons. Nor do a lot of people know about the effort and hours of stitching, not to mention the learning and skills that go into those hours. For that woman who told my friend Patsy that she could buy my salt and pepper crocks at Target for just $20 for both, then I say, by all means, buy that automated-and-mass-produced uniform item made in China if that makes you happier than lovingly crafted, wabi sabi pottery. Seriously. Buy the fast fashion and save your money to later buy something created in an environment of joy, honor and respect.

The risk for this pop-up is so minimal, only $20 to set up a table, and most of the design for my marketing is in my sale banner, which was so fun to make. I also look forward in the future to writing  market literature to educate people about the value of an item that is made by hand if I decide to go beyond foot traffic and take my wares online. My Etsy shop, Handmade Hobbyist is bare, and that may be where I split the two creative outputs: from mud & fire for selling my ceramics and from fabric + thread for selling my quilts. Right now both hobbies are in the Etsy shop that's the same name of this blog and my table shop, clay & cloth, handmade + functional.

I've decided too that if I don't sell any of the "cloth" in my clay and cloth endeavor, I won't be disappointed. For example, I'm going to price the Frida wall quilt at $100. Ditto for A Forever Kind of Love or Til Death Do Us Part. There's a lot of competition on Etsy for quilts. I was rather overwhelmed when trying to figure out how to price my sewing. But I've made my throw or crib quilts so thoughtfully and to my tastes that I kind of hate to part with any one of them for less than $175. My definitions for success with this popup are not ambitious. If I come home with my more expensive pots and quilts, but have gotten rid of pottery I can't stand, nor bother to store, that's a win. And if I've made a couple hundred dollars, I'm golden.