You’d think with my obsessive knitting, I’d have a shop full of stock by now.
However, since I hold down a full time job and I live in a house with other people, I have plenty of distractions to keep me from knitting around the clock.
At this point, I make enough socks, mitts, and other assorted woolly things to keep everyone in my life in homemade gifts, with a small surplus left over.
There was enough surplus this year to bring a small selection of knitted goods to a staff craft fair at my office.
We had a lovely selection of things on sale. Hand painted greeting cards, Christmas ornaments, jewelry, maple table centrepieces, and lots of baked goods. I work with a talented and crafty bunch of people.
It was a bit of a strange experience, watching shoppers – my friends – browse through the wares. I found myself hoping they would select one of my things to purchase. It was surprisingly stressful.
It also gave me some insight into my own twacking/window shopping habits at craft fairs. I’m notorious for browsing, examining, then moving on to the next table, and the next. Until our little staff event, I didn’t realise that a browsing but non-committal customer can feel like a small hope dashed; a micro-judgment on your creations.
After a couple of days, like all the others who took part in the craft fair, I made a reasonable number of sales. Through additional word of mouth, I am working on a few more pairs of socks, for later seasonal shoppers. So in the end, it all worked out.
From now on, I’m going to try to be less of a window shopper and more of a buyer when I’m oohing and aahing over locally made items.
The experience also makes me realise that I’m not a natural entrepreneur. I’m used to work diligently for a reasonable and predictable salary.
Deep down inside, I likely have the heart of a civil servant.