Markets Are For...?

Last weekend, I was a vendor at a lovely @PhoeniciaFlea event in Bearsville. It was a ticketed gathering that included a little over a dozen of other vendors, with bluegrass bands cycling on and off the stage. A slow moving creek hugged around the venue, with a stone landing where cellists were practicing when I arrived. Bugs hung from my white pop-up tent like ornaments. Not in an angry, “I need to swat these sons of bitches” kind of way, but in a Charlotte’s Web kind of way.

These events can be intimidating. Especially when you’re alone, in unfamiliar territory, and riddled with anxiety even on your best days. Where do I unload and will there be enough time? Are people going to watch me struggle to pop open my tent? Will my cards blow away in this setup? Oh God, will it rain?!

Some of those things will happen, yes. But there’s an ego inside that knows people will be picking through your handmade cards today. Those Gromerts designs you tested out on circular pins will be thumbed through and complimented. Someone will pick up that tote bag you made and say, “This is clever, although I don’t use totes.”

Ahhh yes. Fuel my fire.

Except it’s more than that. I almost never break even after covering the cost of the table. If I did, I’d have to be in a constant state of selling, without a second to waste. It’s not really about the sales, or even the hand-in-hand families who slow-walk past, gazing at your products, window shopping. Sure, it’s a big perk to sell, sell, sell and get your work into people’s hands. It’s a great way to branch out and spread your shop’s message. But more often than not, I find these events are about your neighbors.

Those ambitious, self-made, artistic people who border your white tent with their own white tents. The ones who offer to help move your setup when they see you're a novice vendor flying solo. The tent neighbor who works a full-time job, but uses every spare minute chasing their creative dream, because that’s where their heart is. They showed up here, just like you, after a long and tiring workweek to share their creations with a small crowd in an Upstate NY town.

At this particular market, I met two remarkable artists: Cristina of @printedpansies and Anastasia of @textilejukebox. We shared lots of laughs and swapped all the tips and tricks we’ve learned about “vendor market life.” We watched each other’s tents when someone needed to use the restroom or grab a bratwurst. We brainstormed ways to rearrange our setups if the rain came back. During slow periods, we huddled together, told stories, and bonded over shared interests. There was a sense of camaraderie so uplifting and wholesome, I almost didn’t want to leave (Okay, I definitely wanted to leave. I was so exhausted it felt like my feet were made of twigs.)

But you get my point. If I could really do this, really do this, and still afford to live, I would.

It’s a shame we so often have to sacrifice what we truly love for the day job that allows us just enough money to invest in our night jobs. But we make it work. We have each other. But imagine how far we could go if we could focus entirely on what we wanted to focus on.

It’s a daydream for now, but maybe it won’t always be.

Thank you, Cristina and Anastasia, for being so kind. I gained such perspective from having you two as tent neighbors - Until next time!

Anastasia (left) Christina & Matilda (middle) Me (right)