Wearing ALL the Hats

 

North American society seems to have one and only one metric for measuring 'success'.  Money.

As such, money isn't a 'bad' token.  Generally currency is regional, and if it is regulated, people from different regions can fairly easily trade with each other using a 'trusted' token, and be fairly certain they are not getting cheated in the transaction.  There are books about the history of money and standardized measurements.   (For the development of the metric system, The Measure of All Things by K. Alder is quite fascinating.)

With the decrease of societal valuation of things that do not produce money, such as hobbies or recreational activities, there has arisen the attitude that anyone who does something as a hobby - generally a creative one, such as weaving, but also photography, pottery, etc. - pressure comes for practitioners to 'monetize' their leisure activity.

This is usually said by someone who a) knows zilch about the activity and b) zilch about running a business.  Because that is what they are suggesting - that the weaver, etc., not only weave as a hobby, but then run a business.  All in their 'leisure' hours.  Because the flip side of that whole equation is that they ALSO don't believe that being a weaver, etc. is a 'valid' job, either.  Even when you actually do it as your profession.  

With that one sentence "You should monetize your hobby", they whiff away the intrinsic value of being creative, just for its own sake, and demean the level of work involved in then trying to sell what you make.  They don't believe that it takes skill and LABOUR - as in hours of work - to make what you are making.  They have no concept of the process or the knowledge the maker needs to have in order to make a quality product.

Neither do they have any understanding of the legal/logistical requirements of running a business, nor would they probably bother with being 'legal'.

Those of us (even I am still on the periphery of the community) who have actually earned an income from what we make smile wanly and nod.  

All of that said, it IS possible to sell on a very low key basis.  But it still takes time and effort, everything from websites (pretty much required these days) and all the upkeep they take, to packaging (because if we are selling from a website we are shipping stuff), the marketing et bloody cetera.  Getting excellent photographs (another skill) is essential when selling online and it can be really hard to get accurate colour (and even if you do, it all hinges on the viewers computer displaying that colour accurately.)

For weavers there is the possibility that a local guild may participate in a local sales event and sell guild members' work.  Which is about as low key as you can get.  Be prepared to pay a % of your sale price to the guild for the service of renting the space (if they have to pay a rental fee - sometimes they can pay in volunteer hours - *so then volunteer if you can*), setting up and tearing down the booth, making the sales, collecting whatever taxes are legally required to be collected and remitted.  Be prepared to have *legal* fibre content tags, including care instructions, and *legal* fibre content listed.  The % you pay in commission covers the staffing of the booth as well (again, volunteer if you can, and DON'T just 'sell' your own work, for goodness sake!) and the banking/credit card fees and gives the guild a little income to keep being a guild. 

There are all sorts of versions of how to earn an income in the textile field, but none of them come without effort.

For me, I designed, then wove textiles.  I had to keep coming up with new designs every year.  I had to source the yarns to make the designs and ensure I had sufficient yarn inventory on hand so that I could make enough inventory to cover the show season.  If I ran out of yarn I was hooped as it would take a minimum of two weeks to get more yarn.  

After I wove the fabric, it had to be dry and wet finished.  Then the labels attached, then carefully stored (for months before the event because you can't produce $40,000 worth of textiles in a couple of months) before money started coming in.

Booths were applied for and deposits paid months in advance of the event.  So, money going out for yarn and booth rentals, 6 months before I could see any income.  And even then, there was no guarantee anyone would actually purchase.  Sometimes when the folk in my booth turned their noses up, they would make snide comments about 'high' prices.  Just loud enough for me to hear, but not directly to me, so no chance to comment - not that I really wanted to.

So I also wrote articles for publication.  Most magazines have a minimum of a six month lead time, so again, all the work was done months before I got paid.  And they rarely paid much.  It was more a way to get my name 'known' for teaching.

I booked workshops.  Then I had to be travel agent and set up the 'tour'.  Again paying for the entire trip well before the events and any hope of compensation.  I took to supplying all the yarn - so that I knew I would get guaranteed results.  (Started doing that after two workshops in a row on wet finishing when I specified *wool* yarn and several people turned up with acrylic warps 'because I wanted to use what I had on hand, not buy something'.)  That meant I had to sort the yarn and the drafts, which I would customize for each group given how many 8 and 4 shaft looms they had available), print out the drafts, then box it all up and mail.  Again, weeks before the workshop so that the participants would have enough time to dress their looms.  It also meant I had to have a 'teaching' stash, not just a production stash.

I was told other teachers would bring textiles to sell, so I began to do that as well, and sometimes I would sell out of all of the tea towels I had brought.  This was a welcome addition to my pocketbook because it was not 'budgeted' - it was a bonus.

In addition to all of the actual *weaving* and *teaching* tasks, I had to keep inventory - yarn and product -  keep track of my expenses/income, balance my books, collect/remit the sales taxes, pay my bills, arrange financing when necessary (which it was from time to time, my income being cyclic in nature, not steady).  I had to schedule my calendar making sure I wasn't double booking myself, then be my own travel agent setting up my trips.  

Since NA is a large continent, I frequently hopped time zones on top of some very stressful trips due to weather or other things.  I can't tell you how many driving trips I white knuckled through winter driving conditions - since going east meant going through the Rocky Mountains.  And rain.  I hate driving in the rain, and they don't call the west coast the wet coast for nothing.  I also don't like driving in big cities, and yet I began to make several trips to big cities every year.  Eventually I got 'better' at dealing with city traffic, but I never enjoyed it, especially in the rain.

Years of dragging heavy suitcases and cases of yarn/books took their toll on my body, and the hours of sitting in the van or on a plane weren't much better.  Add to that extensive food allergies and the lack of 'safe' food and, well, let's just say I'm not actually missing any of that anymore.

Being semi-retired means I have closed my 'business'.  I no longer collect/remit sales taxes.  When I sell on consignment, the seller does that for me.  I *do* declare what little money I earn from teaching or my sales on ko-fi when I send in my income tax.  But my weaving is no longer a business.  I make what I want, when I want.  I sell through the local guild and another consignment shop.  The workshop in October will be my last in-person workshop.  With only 2 registered so far, it will likely 'fail'.  And I'm not actually too bothered if it does.

I've taught for 48 years.  I expect I will continue to 'teach' but in the way I want, which is primarily via the written word.

Does that mean I have book 4 happening?  Another tiny slice for an already niche market.  I doubt I'll sell many copies.  

I still have the next class for School of Sweet Georgia, which will launch in November, and I am supposed to be working on the documentation for that.  Since that deadline is 'looming', that will be my priority for the coming week.  The file is mostly complete, but I need to add photos, and for that I need the current warp to come off the loom so I can take photos of the process.  Given my back spasm, that means I'm two weeks 'behind' schedule.  But I am back to weaving, albeit at a much slower pace, and the warp should come off the loom Tuesday.  

Wednesday I have a 7:30 am Zoom presentation, then the phone call with the pain doctor, and in between I will attempt to get the photographs taken.  

(All of this is to say...if you have a supplier in the fibre field, and some 'spare' cash, maybe make a purchase once in a while.  Your sale may be the tipping point in them eating - or not - that month.)

Value/Worth

I am in the midst of another writing project.  Yeah, I know, I have so much time on my hands, why not spend an hour or two a day pounding the keyboard???

The project may never see light of day, but it has been an interesting exercise to rummage in the dark corners of my memory and try to set down my journey through this life.  I have made fair progress and this...obsession...with writing down what I remember doesn't seem to be going away.  In fact I spent several hours on planes poking at my ipad in the Note app adding more to my story.

I'm up to the early years of establishing myself as a designer/weaver and teacher with the writing starting to happen in various ways - teaching handouts, newsletter person for the guild and so on.

This morning a n exchange between a couple of people showed up on my Twitter feed.  Someone published a knitting pattern and it was being promoted when someone commented that they would wait until the pattern showed up on a free site.  The original poster asked why the second person wouldn't just buy the pattern and support an indy designer.  The second person lol'd and said that she'd get it for free from someone who bought it because once that person had purchased the pattern, it could be shared with anyone.

This back and forth reflected so much of what was going on 45 years ago in so many ways.  The attitude that as a weaver it was a hobby so I didn't deserve to get paid.  As a woman, I was being supported by my spouse so didn't need to make any money.  That my textiles could be copied and then the copier could replicate my design and sell it themselves.  That I was charging way too much money with the unstated 'who do you think you are, asking for so much money?'

There were other observations such as, well, you love what you do, so you shouldn't ask for money.  Or people would comment that they could make it themselves.  Or that a tea towel shouldn't be so expensive, I was charging too much, I'd never sell tea towels for the price I was asking.

The variations were pretty much endless, and at times felt relentless.

My initial reaction was to be highly indignant and offended.  Eventually I came to realize that what the comments were actually saying is that the person saying them had limited means and in many cases simply could not afford to buy my textiles.  It took a long time but I came to realize that their lack of financial resources was not my problem.

Their lack of respect of my skills, talents, and flat out courage to bring my ideas and product to the marketplace did rankle and I had to find a way to cope with such comments.

The first thing I did was never drop my prices.  I had to stay firm in knowing what I needed in order to keep my business viable, pay for the costs of the business, purchase materials and all the supporting things that were required, like care tags, market my work (booth fees and the travel to get to the shows, shipping product to my outlets), put food on the table and keep a roof over my head, and so on.

For me weaving was not a hobby, it was not something to 'keep you busy', it was my work, my job, my career.

The term 'starving artist' is used because it is in so many ways an accurate depiction of what the vast majority of creative people experience - lack of funds beyond the bare necessities.  Yes, we do it because we love it.  But in this society we also need to keep body and soul together.  People say that artists do their art as a 'side hustle' while they work other jobs so shouldn't charge so much, when in reality their 'day' job is the side hustle that allows them to do their creative work.

For many years my income was well below the poverty line.  My goal in life was to earn enough money that I actually paid income tax.  I was to meet that goal, but I was never much beyond the minimum income.

So eventually when someone would come into my booth, fondle my textiles and then say that my prices were too high, I would smile, nod and quietly say "I understand about limited income."

I had to refuse to make their financial issues my problem. 

At one point I joined a large guild in order to participate in their annual autumn sale.  When I arrived, my textiles were divided up and put into the appropriate 'departments'.  The textiles were categorized and scarves put with scarves, tea towels with tea towels and so on.

During the set up, several guild members came to quietly explain to me that my textiles would never sell at the price I was asking.  I thanked them and said that if they didn't sell at the sale there, I could sell them at those prices at home.  It was not a boast, it was true.  At home I had been weaving for a long time and had established a reputation for producing good quality.  People knew that my textiles did not wear out in a year or two, but lasted for a long time.

At the end of the sale I collected my textiles, and a few weeks later my payment arrived in the mail.  And the following year I was interested to note that some of the same guild members who cautioned me about not selling my textiles at my price?  Were raising their prices.  By the time I stopped doing that show, I wasn't the highest priced anymore, the guild members had finally begun to value their textiles and were putting more appropriate prices on their work.  And the public was buying it.

As weavers in the 21st century, we need to understand what it is we are selling:  our designs, our creativity, our colour sensibilities and our cloth.  If we don't value what it is we do, why should anyone else?

So purchase the pattern.  Make it possible for good designers to keep producing more good designs.  Support your local artisans.  Pay your teachers a decent amount.  Buy their books.  If you can't afford their books, request your guild library purchase them and provide reviews to your social media.

Value knowledge and respect it's worth.

Don't Do It

A few days ago I was scrolling through Facebook and a headline caught my eye.  Something about not turning your hobby into a 'side hustle'.

Since weaving was never a side hustle for me, I kept on scrolling.

I get it, though.  The cost of doing fibre arts has certainly gotten more expensive.  Especially yarn for knitting and crocheting.  Mind you, there are some really interesting yarns available for those crafts now.  Much fancier than most weaving yarns.  It is extremely difficult to knit or crochet and sell what you have made and make any kind of money for the effort.

Weaving is different.  If you are careful, purchase yarns in weaving type quantities, not knitting type quantities, focus on creating unique textiles, you can sell your work.  It's also a really good idea to become very efficient.

But again, I agree, don't try to turn a hobby into any kind of 'side hustle'.  Weave (or spin, or knit, or crochet) because you love it.  Leave it be something you do purely for enjoyment, for satisfaction.  Use it as an intellectual stretch, or a mindful meditation, not another chore to be done to deadline.

However, if your goal is to earn an income, be that supplemental or exclusive, then you are no longer doing it as a 'hobby'.  You are now in business.  And that comes with all of the responsibilities that any business comes with.

When you are weaving as a business, even a part-time business, you have to learn how to run a business.  How to market your products.  How to design your own designs - because face it - in the  21st century, what you are really selling are your designs.  Providing something that cannot be found anywhere else but from you.

I made the decision to become a weaver/designer many years ago.  I'm having a hard time 'retiring' from that work because I still enjoy the physical input of sitting at the loom and weaving.  My production far outstrips my market to sell even 'retirement' production.  In other words, I'm having a really hard time turning my work into my hobby.

I've been working on the conference, thinking about all of the instructors we have booked and how none of them really does what they do as a 'hobby'.  I really hope that people will make an effort to come to Prince George to learn from this amazing cast of characters because we have assembled an enormous pool of knowledge for people to leap into.

If you are sitting on the fence, early bird registration ends on April 15.  After that the cost to register will go up.  We will make our final adjustments to the schedule and swing into final preparations - goodie bags, fashion show commentary, exhibit props.

Go on over to the conference website and take a look through the workshop and seminar offerings, read through the instructor bios, then click on the blue Register Here button, click on the green Tickets button, open a cart, make your selections and join us for an amazing week with like minded people just as passionate about fibre as you are!

Started The Golden Thread by Kassia St. Clair this morning.  I will do a review when I'm further into it, but even the introduction is sparking lots of thoughts about cloth and the role it has in society.

Never.

Part of my rayon chenille stash

I keep needing to learn to never say 'never'.

I have been in the business of selling my textiles for a long time and all during that time - as soon as it became possible - I have been accepting credit cards on the original knuckle buster imprinter machine.

A few years ago a company called Square began offering credit card processing via the internet.  Never being one to jump on the latest technology (well, ok, some!) I resisted - for a number of perfectly valid reasons.

The past few years even customers have been commenting on my old imprinter. 

Recently after another phone call from my provider, doing their best to get me to sign up for their version of Square internet card processing, partly by making it financially impractical to continue doing things the way I had been doing them, I decided that instead of using a 'Square-like' service I would simply go directly to Square.  I figure they have been in business the longest and probably have their systems worked out.  This is not a service I particularly want to be beta-testing.

This morning was spent partly in getting signed up (on my part) and then figuring out how it all works (on Doug's part).

In the meantime I pulled my big girl panties up and marched myself to the loom where I threaded, then sleyed, tied on and managed to get approximately half of the mat warp woven.

In between I've been working on the conference, trying to figure out how to get the word out about our fantastic instructors and event.

As I was shutting down for the day, my eye caught - again - on the shelves full of rayon chenille.  There are an additional.two large boxes of rayon chenille in storage at the annex.  It is time to put a run of rayon chenille scarves on the to-be-done list.

Time is quickly running out.  My first sale of the year is for the hospital auxiliary conference in April  It won't be a busy sale, so perfect for testing the new Square payment option.  Then the conference in June.  And then three craft fairs in Oct/Nov.  I'd really hoped to not have to learn another new thing to work out my business years, but this morning I had to eat that 'never' I'd been saying and just get on with entering the 21st century.

Developing a Line

Since I am a production weaver, one of the things I do is work in series - or a 'line'. 

This is a photo of some of the table runners that I wove for the craft fairs last fall.  I wanted them to be thicker than towels so instead of 20 epi, which is what I use these yarns at to make towels, I increased the epi to 24.  A good example of making different qualities of cloth of exactly the same yarns by changing the density and the weave structure.

I began by deciding if I wanted the main focus of the table runner to be the centre, or along the sides.  In this case I chose the sides, so these stripes are repeated on the other selvedge and the middle is plain.

Using Fibonacci, I worked up a stripe sequence I felt was pleasing, fiddled with it, and then started working on the colours I would use.

In each case the variegated yarn was chosen first.  There are three sizes of stripes in the runners, one stripe an outline of two threads of a solid accent colour, and then the background another solid colour.

This is perhaps most visible in the two top runners - the very top one is less orange in real life and more of a 'rose'.  As it happens the variegated yarn is the same in the top two runners but with such a big difference in the main solid, the variegated stripes look quite different, especially once the weft crossed it.

In the upper runner the weft was a rose the same hue as the background.  In the peach runner, the weft is pretty much the same hue as the background.

The rose is darker in value than any of the colours in the variegated so the variegated yarn stands out more than in the peach because the value of the peach is much closer to the same value of the colours in the variegated which tends to subdue the variegated.

Most people would have to look very closely to see that the variegated yarns in those two runners are the same yarn.

I wound up weaving 10 different warps, all with different colours but all in the same stripe design.  

Work Flow

My dining room this morning.

Foreground - last of the green shawls being fringe twisted.
On chair - shawls ready for wet finishing.
In bucket - four shawls to be fringe twisted.
On bucket - stack of table runners needing to have their tags attached and pricing affixed.

What is just out of sight on the blue chair is a stack of knitted shawls that need to be blocked.

Waiting in the wings - my chequebook to be reconciled to my bank statement, stack of bills waiting for cheques to be written.  Then a trip to the bank to pay them.

In the studio - well, lots more, because I'm still trying to weave more for craft fairs.  But also a box of homework to be packed up and mailed.  And, oh yeah, mark to be submitted to the college - next on my list, I guess.

One of the reasons I keep track of how long it takes me to do tasks is so that I can allocate my time in order to get everything done that needs doing.

The creation of textiles is labour intensive.  It takes time.  Lots of it.  Right now I only have so much energy so I have to conserve what energy I do have in order to focus on the things that require being done on a priority basis.

Weaving (designing, preparing warps, dressing the loom, actual shuttle throwing) is just the first in a long list of steps.

Dry finishing.  In the case of shawls and scarves, fringe twisting.

Wet finishing.  Getting things through the washer/dryer (or done by hand, as appropriate).  Then further dry finishing such as hemming.  And then a 'final' press.  For the twisted fringes, a final trimming of the fringes.

Last but certainly not least, tagging with legally appropriate cleaning instructions and fibre content.  And pricing.

I work in batches because once I have my work station set up it's just a whole lot easier to get all of that bit done before I clear the decks for the next task.  So this morning I finished fringe twisting the green shawls, then cleared the table so I can deal with banking.

The end of September marks the end of the third financial quarter of the year.  I have to report any GST (goods and services tax) collected and paid out.  I also need to review my finances because I have been carrying debt (travel and show fees) and need to make sure I can pay the current crop of bills. But in order to report the GST I have to finish entering my financial records into my ledger, balance it and figure out the figures to submit.  Not my favourite job.

So I keep track of what needs doing and try to keep the work flow logical.  And timely.

The Life I Chose

I was 19 - and in Sweden, a trip I'd worked hard to make happen the year following graduation - when the first intimation that my life was about to change significantly occurred.  My father was gravely ill.

When I got home about 4 weeks later, my mother finally told me dad had multiple myeloma and the prognosis wasn't good.  He hadn't even turned 50 yet.

My intention to pursue higher education had to be scrapped.  There would be no money for tuition, textbooks, food, shelter.  Instead I went back to the telephone company as a long distance operator.

While the job paid good money it wasn't much fun.  It was very obviously a dead end job as technology was already creeping in.  It was also dealing with people who varied from kind and polite to rude and stressed, at times, down right abusive.  And at that point I was once again a 'new hire' so wasn't getting full time hours and pulling the 'nasty' shifts - the split shifts, the early morning shifts, the evening shifts.

The stress at home wasn't great either as mom traveled frequently down to Vancouver where dad had been in hospital for months, with various crisis due to his illness.

I finally found an office job - the only thing I had any kind of qualification for, knowing how to touch type - and even though it paid a lot less, it was regular full time hours.

If I thought I'd had an education in human nature and behaviour at the telephone office, I learned more working at the credit bureau - about the tendency of people to get in debt, then all the stress they incurred.  The petty office politics and low level misogyny with male management and female worker bees.  The sense of privilege and entitlement some people assumed.

From there I went to work for an insurance adjuster.  More lessons in how people cope with stress - or not - filing claims for damages caused to their homes, sometimes catastrophic loss, sometimes minor.  Or their vehicles.  I got fired from that job eventually, partly because I got bored and I just didn't care any more.

It took some weeks to find another job, this time hospital reception, part time.  More shift work.  More dealing with way too many stressed people.  Since dad was constantly seeing doctors and spending way too much time in a hospital bed, I had compassion for these people.  But wished they wouldn't take it out on the people who were simply trying to do their jobs and actually help them.

I lasted six weeks there until I fell into a job at the high school where I had graduated only a few years previously.  It was again interesting to see the change in dynamic from being a student to being an adult, interacting with teachers, some of whom had been mine.  After about six months an opening happened in the school library and I applied.  When I got the job I thought I'd entered the gates of heaven.  All those books!  And I got first pick (more or less.)

Another lesson, this time in being a bit of an authority figure to the students who used the library.  I knew I had a reputation as a bit of a bitch, but I didn't care.  I simply firmly enforced the rules - bring your books back on time or pay the fine.  Don't bring them back in a timely fashion?  I would call you out of class to give you a warning.  Noisy?  I would calmly tell you to be quiet - or go to the cafeteria.  And yes, I told my brother and his friends to abide by the no talking rule or leave.  ;)  I was that kind of big sister!

All during this time as dad experienced declining health, mom insisted on ignoring the elephant in the room, refusing to discuss dad's nearing end, my teen aged brother living in the toxicity of terminal illness, unacknowledged, I found myself dealing with the stress in my own way.  I read.  And I knitted.

The job at the school had it's own bundle of stress.  It was only 10 months out of the year, paid very poorly, and I had no income for the two months school was out.  I started working for a temp agency, which was it's own kind of hell.

Lots more lessons about how people behave under stress - or just generally.  Some people were kind, but some were not.  When stressed even the kind ones could lose their cool.

And by this time I was extremely stressed.

I was working office jobs that left me feeling unfulfilled.  And poor.  I went back to the telephone company, this time in an office.  I was the only female in a male environment.  I was also a feminist and found dealing with misogyny more and more difficult.

As my father made his way through one health crisis after another, he became more and more unhappy.  He was dealing with all sorts of issues related to the disease and my mother continued to not talk about end of life issues.  My brother ducked his head and just tried to get through.

We were also fighting the good fight to keep my brother in school.  He kept insisting he would quit school and get a job with the railway - they would hire with a grade 10 education.  The entire rest of the family was united.  My brother would, under no circumstances whatsoever, quit school - he would have to graduate grade 12.  And he'd better just get on with that.  As dad became more ill, Don stopped complaining and did just that - got on with it.  But I knew he wasn't happy.  He did, during this time, finally discover the escape that reading provided.

At the telephone office I became more and more unhappy.  It, like the rest of the jobs before it, became boring.  I wasn't learning anything - I knew the job, I could do it, but...

Doug was travelling a lot during this time and one night the rabid thought squirrels hosting a rave in my brain box I faced the fact that life was pretty awful right then.  Instead of simply feeling sorry for myself, as I had been doing, I finally asked myself the critical question.  If not this, then...what?

If I didn't want to do what I was doing for the rest of my life, why not?  What did all of the jobs I'd done have in common?  They were boring.  They had way too many people interactions.

OK.  Well, that's a start.

So, then, what are they missing?  Stimulation.  What kind of stimulation?  Because the nasty interactions with people were not what I wanted, obviously.  Finally the answer slowly dawned on me.  Creativity.  None of the jobs I'd had were, in any way at all, creative.  I was happiest when I was making stuff.

My ex-boss at the library had told me about a class at the local college where people could learn how to dye with natural dyes and how to spin.  The spinning didn't appeal to me, but the dyeing did.  I had, in fact, been looking for someone to teach me batik but hadn't been able to find a teacher.

I enrolled in the Monday evening class.  Where I was told I had to learn how to spin so that I would have yarn to dye.  Sigh.

After enrolling in the class I'd applied for and gotten a job at a custom drapery house.  I have told this story elsewhere. 

But I found that I was attracted to the fibre, the yarn we made from it and then, in the new semester, the small loom techniques - inkle weaving, back strap weaving, and so on.

When I made the decision to become a weaver, I really had no clue.  I could see potential.  I could see possibility.  I wanted a job where I could set my own priorities and schedule.  Make my own decisions about the direction I would take my life.

Little did I know what the reality of that decision would actually consist of...

And perhaps this post is long enough and I should save the rest for part II...

Deadline Dance

Trying to find peace today in the face of a deadline going ballistic.

There was a miscommunication - an email went astray - and the yarn I need for a project, due in the hands of the publisher very soon is only just now en route.

Sometimes juggling deadlines is the hardest part of being self-employed.  I always keep a wary eye on the calendar, but when you are relying on others, sometimes the cogs slip. 

And then, as in this particular project, I'm bumping up against a very tight deadline.

However, I just checked the tracking number and the yarn appears to have cleared customs and is released back to UPS to deliver.  Hopefully tomorrow.

I will be setting every other thing I'm supposed to be working on to one side as soon as the yarn arrives.  Because even though there are others waiting on me to do my (other) job, they can actually wait a few days.  This project cannot.

As it is, it had to be shipped via courier, which means I will have a large brokerage bill to pay when it does arrive, and I will have to ship it via courier to get it to Colorado in time for the photo shoot.

All part of the customer service.  And part of being 'professional' in the face of things trying to go awry.

At least now I know the yarn will arrive tomorrow, I can relax and stop checking the tracking number and get back to doing my other jobs...

Busy

A not uncommon sight in my studio - bins piled up with warps, spools, general...messiness.  While it may look messy to someone else, there is a certain level of organization in the mess.  Because I never work on just one project, one warp at a time.  My approach to getting everything I do, done, is to have several items that progress, in their turn, depending on a number of factors.

I have always been really good at working to deadlines.  I can 'see' my schedule, I have a pretty good idea of what needs to be done next in order to progress efficiently.  There are times when I work in batches, collecting things to the point of, say, wet finishing, then doing a big batch of wet finishing.  Like I did yesterday.

Doug said he could go pressing today, so yesterday I ran four dozen mats with matching runners, plus the 14 towels I wove last summer, through the washer and dryer.  This makes more economical sense than running only a dozen mats through the washer - that's a waste of time, energy and water/electricity.  Much more economical/efficient to do two dozen mats at a time.

I tend to go on a warp winding binge.  I get into a rhythm, filling boxes or bins with warps to be done later.  As I design more colour ways for a particular design, I push myself further out of my comfort zone in terms of the colours I use together.  I work from my stash, adding another level of challenge - what can I do with what I have?

Then I tend to weave them off as quickly as I can.

I've gotten good at scheduling.  I know how long it takes me to do a task so I have a good idea of what I can accomplish (when I'm not sick) in a given time.  Sometimes the available time is just 15 minutes.  What can I accomplish in 15 minutes?  I can wind bobbins.  Pull colours for another warp.  Clean up.  Make up a yarn order.  I don't ever say "oh I only have 15 minutes - not enough time to do anything productive".  Those 15 minutes here and there can add up.  I can even weave a place mat and a half in 15 minutes.  I can wind a mat warp in 20.  How do I know?  Because I pay attention to such things.

I don't watch the clock to see when I can stop working.  I watch the clock to see how much time I have and what I can fit into that time period.

A friend has told me that I get more done when I'm having a bad day than she gets done when she is having a good day.  But she does different things than what I do.  It's never a good idea to compare yourself to someone else because you never know what is really going on beneath the surface.

What I do say is that if you like my results, you might like to take a look at my processes.  Because what I do and how I do it is no secret.

I also do a lot of my thinking when I am in the studio, working when only surface attention is required.  People frequently tell me that they can't make more than one of anything because they get bored.  I never get bored when I'm weaving and I almost always make multiples.  I get into the zone and weaving becomes a kind of working meditation for me.

My problem is that as I age and find my body wearing out I still think I'm 35 with all the energy and enthusiasm of that 35 year old.  Well, I still have the enthusiasm, which is part of the problem.  I'm slowing down, my energy isn't the same as it was 30 mumble years ago.

But I hope that as I enter my 7th decade in a couple of years that I can at the very least retain my enthusiasm without becoming frustrated at my reduced energy levels...

Details, Details

Not too long ago, in a conversation with another textile professional, she commented that people like us were always running 15 projects off the sides of our desk.  I had to agree.

My working life is a constant round of keeping various and sundry plates spinning on their respective sticks.  Sometimes I don't always manage it.

This week my schedule has had:

- finish weaving another place mat warp
- weave on the nearly 20 yard warp on the AVL because it will soon be needed for a pressing deadline
- wet finish four dozen mats with runners and 14 towels - because hemming also needs to get done
- mark three boxes of Olds Master Weaver homework (one done, one in process, one in the wings)
- finish documenting the project for Handwoven and get into the mail
- mail the dozen mats special ordered and delayed due to snowmaggedon
- market Magic in the Water on blurb.ca
- work out details for the conference seminars - trying to get info from people as busy as I am can be challenging...
- continue to nail down conference facilities - library secured as of last week
- continue to work on tentatively booked guild workshops later in the year
- answer emailed questions from formal and informal students
- work on The Intentional Weaver - once the last edit arrives, projects need to be designed, woven, documented to incorporate into the ms
- market the conference - which now has a Facebook page and blog, first post written.  Now to approach instructors to see if they are willing to contribute
- discuss further plans for an on line class and schedule when that will get taped, then design the course content

There are other things waiting in the wings, but those listed above are things I actually worked on over the past week.

People like me don't work a standard five day week, or a standard 8 hour day.  Over my lifetime I have worked 7 days a week, up to 15 hours a day.  A 60 hour week isn't uncommon.  Much of what I do is very physical - for me weaving is an aerobic activity.

Much of the work I do is out of the eye of the public.  The administrivia of keeping a business afloat, financially, overseeing the bills getting paid, taxes remitted, supplies and materials ordered in a timely fashion - all takes time.  Class prep takes time.  Writing takes time.  (Marketing, which on the internet is primarily writing - takes time.)

Staying in touch with workshop/class/conference organizers - takes time.  All of that time is unpaid until it is.  You have to market yourself by applying to conferences and/or guilds to teach.  You have to submit articles 'cold' many times until you get accepted.  When writing, you never know if anyone will pay you for your efforts.

Most of all, being a professional in this craft is a daily dance with details - just like the craft itself.

Currently reading The Templars' Last Secret by Martin Walker

Showing Up

I'm over half way through this bin of rayon chenille scarves, but still hours of work to do yet. 

Today Doug is working on installing a new light in the laundry room and, for safety's sake, the computer that runs my loom needed to be shut down.  Ergo, I could not weave.

While it was enormously tempting to take the afternoon 'off', things don't get done, so instead of weaving I'm back to fringe twisting.  My goal is to finish the fringe twisting and, if possible, get all of the scarves wet finished before I leave.

In a recent conversation with another fibre person, she commented about people running 15 things off the side of their desk.  Well, I do that, but I also use my dining room table...which is why there is a clear plastic cover over the hand woven table cloth that graces my table but largely remains invisible due to heaps of stuff all over it.  

Being self employed means showing up, even when you don't much feel like it.  I'd much rather be thinking about our upcoming holiday - the first in several years.  Frequently my trips are for 'business' and sometimes I can sneak in a few days here or there that might qualify as a 'holiday' - insofar as I'm not actually making any money during those days.  So, a holiday.  Of sorts.

All too often I work at least a little bit, every day.  Including 'holidays'.  Yes I have been known to weave on Christmas Day.  Thanksgiving.  There is always some aspect of being self employed that can be tucked into a day - ledger entries, project planning, writing (like this blog - although that is more unpaid labour), research, writing.

Now I will be adding conference planning.  More unpaid labour.  But that is part of returning to the weaving community some of the benefit I have had, being part of that community.

But if I don't show up and do it - well, nothing happens.

Dreams are well and good.  They are a pathway.  A goal.  But the only way to get there is to walk the walk.  Show up.  Do the work.

Multi-pronged

There has been conversation on one of the internet groups I belong to about what it takes to be a professional in the leisure/hobby textile profession.  An oxymoron, of sorts, but not really.  

Because there are many people who follow the profession of teaching or producing textiles to a greater or lesser extent.

There are people who practice the craft, designing and making textiles for sale.  There are people who research and write about the creation of textiles.  There are people who teach the craft.  And mostly?  There are people who do all of the above.

There are also people who provide the supplies for the crafts, from growing the fibre, to importing it from other countries, to dyeing unique colours, to having local yarn shops, to selling supplies on line.

For me, I did all of that including weaving cloth for others.  I made a great deal of my income for 9 years weaving for a fashion designer, which I discussed previously, but also for other textile artists.  Sometimes it worked out, sometimes it didn't.  Sometimes an international border stood in the way, like the time I wove 'samples' for a designer in New York.  Getting materials across the border and back again was a pain - for both of us.

Right from the beginning I taught.  My very first workshop was a (gasp!) spinning workshop.  No, I wasn't very good at it.  But I was better than those people who came who knew nothing at all - and wanted to.

Right from the beginning I wrote - first the local guild newsletter, then bravely sending articles off to magazines.  The very first one that accepted one of my articles was The Weaver's Journal.  

As soon as I could create enough inventory I took a booth at the local craft fair, plus I sold my textiles on consignment at a local shop.

And I learned.  Boy howdy, did I learn!  I knew very little about retails sales, but I did know how to set up a double entry ledger and how to balance it, reconciling it to my chequebook.  I knew enough that I'd rather pay an accountant than do my year end and file my taxes, so I wove enough to pay for those services.

Eventually we were both working in the studio - Doug was my studio assistant, winding warps on a 'spare' beam while I wove, doing the wet finishing, hitting the road and selling what we were making.  At one point I was weaving 240 yards per month - 200 for the fashion designer, 40 of my own design.  We had 28 shops in western Canada buying place mats, table runners, napkins.

Then everything came crashing to a halt.  Instead of 28 shops, suddenly there were three.  There wasn't enough work for two so Doug got a job elsewhere while I tried to figure out how to continue.

I worked on the Guild of Canadian Weavers master weaver certificate, writing, teaching, scrambling to bring in enough money to keep going.  And I saw the need for a book on wet finishing, so I worked on that, eventually self-publishing so I could include before and after samples.

The book launched in time for Convergence in Vancouver 2002, but taking a booth to just sell a book wasn't going to pay for the booth, let alone anything else so I had started importing yarns and selling them.  From there I started selling yarns at other fibre events, but most of the vendors were all pretty much selling the same things so I started importing yarns from China and dyeing them so sell.

And in between, I wrote and taught, and wove.

I gave up weaving for the fashion designer when I spent more time away teaching one year than I was home.

But that sort of teaching schedule wasn't sustainable, especially when I started having health issues.  Something had to give and I pared back on the teaching.  And then the dyeing.  Because dyeing is actually harder physically than weaving (for me).  And of course I never seemed to have the 'right' colour in the right yarn in the right quantity.  Eventually I just wove up whatever yarn was left over from those days.

Because I had essentially three stashes - the yarn I actually used for weaving my textiles, my teaching yarn stash, and my re-sale yarn stash...

I've been in this business for 40+ years now.  I have pretty much tried everything.  I have pretty much enjoyed a lot of it - some of it not so much.

Bottom line?  If you want to be a professional in this line of work?  It's hard.  You have to show up.  Every day.  You have to be self-motivated.  You have to either do it yourself, or make enough money to hire someone else to do it.  But most of all?  You have to just do it.  Nike got that part right.

Messy

My messy life...

I am trying to cross some long delayed chores off my task list, the primary one being getting my ledger entries done, balanced, reconciled to my cheque book and file my GST (sales tax) for the second quarter of the year.  I've got until the end of the month, but I'm due a refund and I really need the money.

My 'dining' room table has become my de facto office.  It is also the hold all for all manner of things.  

The spools of singles - because I ply on the table using a borrowed electric spinner.  Doug's ipad case.  A photo of my dad, brother and me, taken in oh, 1959?  It's a favourite of mine and I can't seem to put it somewhere.  I have another on display, but there is no accounting for emotions...

Contracts for upcoming craft fairs, partly because I need to send new photos to one of them.  And somehow the contracts haven't been filed 'properly' - yet.  Partly as a reminder to actually send the photos...

Doug's tools because he's been getting to a pile of 'odd' jobs that have needed done for a long time, some just since the outside got renovated.  The renovation domino effect has meant that things that we were content to live with have now been affected, or in some cases, new stuff that needs doing.  Like the tile surround in the kitchen that had to be removed to fit the new, larger windows.  Some, like the garage door, needs to be painted, so there is a colour/chip card with our choice of new paint colour.

And on it goes.

I've had little income this year and the usual - indeed, extra - expenses so to add to everything else I'm having to 'finance' the business for the next few months.  All part of being a self-employed weaver - the mad scramble to make things, paying for materials up front but the income from their potential sales months down the road.  Having to pay for travel to events ahead of time, sometimes months before, but not getting paid until well after the event.  With cyclical income streams - in other words, out for months, in for about six weeks in the fall, with a dribble of income from teaching during the rest of the year.

The past year has had 'extra' stress due to the renovations to the house, disrupting my studio with having to make room for the trades to work, plus the noise, dust and general kerfuffle.  Plus mom dying.  I'm also older and not so resilient.

So I have finally embraced the concept of 'semi-retirement'.  But not quite yet.  Because now we start gearing up for the 2019 ANWG conference.  

To that end I have been in touch with instructors.  I have almost filled all the spots, just two more disciplines to find people for - quilting and knitting.  I have some leads, just need to find contact info.  Then, once I have everyone's topics, we will go through them and begin to design an event that will hopefully provide a quality experience, not just for the registrants, but for the instructors, vendors, etc.

In the meantime, I need to be an 'adult' and get my books done...

Stubborn/Persistent

A few years ago (quite a few, but let's not count them up) I was asked to do a guild presentation about my life as a professional weaver.  After the presentation one person approached me and said that she had re-invented herself three times, with three different professions, but had been intrigued with how I had re-invented myself but always within the context of weaving.

Being the child of a French-Canadian mother and a German-Canadian father, I think I got a double stubborn gene.  Add in the Cancer water sign, and stubbornly persistent, or persistently stubborn would pretty much sum me up.

Water tends to meet an obstacle and go under, around or sometimes just plain over, in order to reach it's destination.

While I have not managed to achieve everything I set out to do - sometimes the answer is indeed "no" - it has not been from lack of trying.

After my first craft fair, I completely re-thought my approach to designing textiles, re-tooled my entire inventory, and achieved a modicum of success.  Enough to continue, at any rate.

My writing was not an instant 'success' so I kept writing articles, submitting them and when they were rejected - tried again.  And again.  And again.  While my ego cringed, persistent stubbornness would not allow me to give up.  My ego was instructed to pull up the Big Girl panties because I was going to continue.  As I continued to write and be rejected, I was also honing my writing skills.

Ditto applying to teach workshops.  Don't like that topic?  How about this one?  And I re-wrote my marketing tools to make my workshops sound more...interesting?  Appealing?  Until guilds started to hire me.

Conferences?  Again, multiple applications, multiple rejections.  Damn near wore out those Big Girl panties!  Get another pair and keep trying.

Chairing meetings?  I can do that.  Organizing conferences?  I can do that.  Not getting answers?  Nag, nag, nag...in the nicest possible way, of course!  Because I wanted, needed, an answer and getting shirty wasn't going to hurry those answers along.

Weaving is all about not stopping, not giving up.  I have a high paced month coming up - lots of details to take care of.  I am so far 'behind' on where I wanted to be - because Life Happened - and then it didn't (for my mother - and all that that entailed).  I am way behind on my writing of The Book and know that after the crazy month of June I'm going to need some time to recuperate - only to get some dental surgery done which may knock me out of being able to weave for at best several days, at worst a week or more.

But I am stubbornly persistent, or persistently stubborn, and like my Cancer water sign, I will go under, around or over the obstacles.  

I may not achieve all that I would like to do, but I will do my best to get as much done as I possibly can.

Stash-a-lanch

I am in the throes of finding my teaching aids for the two Olds classes I am teaching in June, which is a bit of a challenge because I also have all the samples for all the other workshops I've taught over the years.  Things have gotten shifted multiple times over the past year due to the renovation work we have been having done, plus studio production.  

Once I teach one last workshop (if it goes ahead) in October, I will sit down over the winter, sort through ALL my samples, decide which I need to keep for the Olds classes and the rest will get tossed into the recycle bin.

I told Doug yesterday that I am fed up to the back teeth with all the clutter.  Between each of us, then emptying out mom's apartment, living in the same house for over 40 years, running a business out of it, which included teaching as well as production, well...let's just say I might qualify for an episode of Hoarders!

I am turning 67 this year.  Many people I know retire from their professions in their 50's.  I am allowed to admit that I am getting tired.  I've had a lifetime of repetitive motion type of work and my body is wearing out.  I really don't want to be toting heavy boxes and suitcases around any more.

It is time to look at what I really actually need and get rid of the rest.  To that end, I have given myself five years to downsize, at least to the point of having only the yarns I really want to use instead of all the other stuff I have needed for teaching workshops.  So I am on a mission - weave as much as possible of the stuff I want to get rid of, finish The Book, concentrate on teaching the Olds class, spend more time doing what I enjoy instead of what I feel I must do.  Every job has stuff that isn't as enjoyable as the stuff you really love to do.  It's time for me to concentrate on moving towards the 'joy' and away from the things that aren't.

Passages

Some of the homework for the Olds master weaving program.  Plus yarn.  Stash to be used up.  Plus bins of warps, wound, ready to be woven.  When I get to them.

Life is full of passages.  Some smooth, some rocky.  But that is just life.

The first time your heart gets broken.  Getting fired.  Having to bury a loved one.  Getting rejected.  

Life is full of them.

As a child I thought as an adult I could do whatever I wanted, that I would never have to do stuff I didn't want to do.  What a surprise!

Because life isn't just one pajama party after another.  There were/are obligations.  Duties.  Stuff that was hard and sometimes even difficult to face.  

But there is also joy.  There is love.  And rainbows.  And silver linings, if we look hard enough.  (Believe me, sometimes you really have to dig to find them, but...)

So while I love to weave, there are things that have to be done.  Stuff I don't much like doing.  Like paying the bills.  Doing the paperwork, like for taxes.  Writing resumes and applications to teach.  Dealing with all the myriad little day to day things that have to be taken care of, like not just ordering more yarn but...paying for it.

For much of my life others have looked at my work and some have told me that what I do isn't 'real'.  As though the time and effort I put into making, selling, teaching is somehow 'fake'.  I have had people tell me to my face; others do it to others behind my back.

As if, because I chose to break out of society's expectations of what constituted a 'real' job my time was not to be respected.  That I could be interrupted at their whim.  That I could drop what I was doing because it wasn't important, anyway.

I try very hard to not take myself seriously.  But I do take my weaving very seriously indeed.  I take my teaching and writing seriously.  And I earn money, real money, and I pay bills with that money.

At this point in my life I could easily 'retire' and laze around all day, every day.  Which seems to be what a certain segment of society thinks I have been doing for the past 40+ years.  But I'm not done yet.  My brother died at the age of 51.  As a result of his death, I was 'saved'.  Since I am still here, there is something more I need to do.  Something more I need to accomplish.  

In the end, I really don't care what other people think of me (too much).  What is important to me is not that I have buckets of money, but that I lived a life that meant something to me.  That I tried (and failed) to be kind and fair - but every time I failed, I tried to do better.  Be better.

So when I was confronted again today with the attitude that my work is a 'sham', I saw red.  I have calmed down now, had a firm chat with someone who needed to understand what was happening and confront the attitude that somehow some jobs are more 'real' than others.  Bottom line?  If you are being paid with 'real' money, you are working a 'real' job.

Speaking of which - I have a warp that needs weaving, homework that needs marking...

Labour Intensive

Why do I weave, anyway?

Such a hard question to answer.  All I know is that it called to me, over and over again, until I could no longer ignore the siren call of the yarns, the equipment.

Frankly I could have made a whole lot more money in a more 'traditional' job, one where I got up every day, showed up at work, did what needed doing, collected my paycheque, made pension contributions, had paid holiday time where I actually had a holiday instead of a working 'holiday'.

But that type of job was...stifling.

When I sat down at a floor loom for the first time, it was as though a heavenly choir sang "You're home, You're home!"  It felt so...right...my butt perched on the bench, feet on treadles, shuttle in hand.

Has it been easy being a hand weaver in the 20th and 21st centuries?  Nope.  Jobs that are labour intensive, especially those done by women (and it so pains me to type that), are generally not much valued.  It has been a constant struggle to justify my prices.  The question most often asked at a craft fair is - you guessed it - 'how long did it take to make X'.  

Thing is, economies of scale mean that I don't sit down and make one of anything from start to finish; rather I work in groups.  So a warp of place mats (shown above) is 10.5 meters long.  From that warp I get one table runner and 12 place mats.  It takes me, say, an hour (probably less, but let's go with that for simplicity sake) to wind the warp.  It takes about 5-10 minutes to rough sley, 10 minutes or so to beam.  Threading might take 30-35 minutes, sleying another 5 minutes, about a minute and a half to tie on and throw the first six picks to spread the warp.

Generally when I'm weaving I do about 30-45 minutes at a time and can weave about 1/4 of the warp in that time (it's fast - there's a reason for that - two in fact).  

If pushed, I could weave off the entire warp in one day.  Since turning 65, plus surgery, I don't usually push that hard much anymore.

So let's say - oh, two days to make a dozen mats and a table runner.  I could crunch the numbers down further to get a more accurate minutes/mat but let's just say two studio days.

The mats sell for (2017 price) $13 each.  The table runner is $26.  That's $182 for two days work.  But wait!  Out of that $182 I have to pay for the materials, the electricity for the studio, the rent for Puff, (the industrial press), and all the other expenses of running a business.  

Even at $91 gross a day, that's pretty low wages, and more realistically, it is much, much less than that.  And of course, there is still the finishing to do...

So...why do I do it?

I do it because I am self-employed.  I get to choose whether or not I work that day (you can tell that I choose to work most days!  I explained to a 19 year old on Thursday that when you are self-employed every day is a potential work day.  Because if you don't work, you don't get anything done, and you don't have any income.)

I wanted something where I got to choose what I did.  To walk to the beat of my own drum.  I wanted a roof over my head and food on the table, but I didn't desire diamonds or gold plated toilets.  I wanted a life that fulfilled me creatively.  I wasn't looking for public acclaim.  The only 'recognition' I wanted was the buying public to pay me the price I asked for the textiles I made.

I am now in the last 'half' of my 6th decade.  I have lived a life that was part hard physical labour, part mental exploration, then follow up in reality to see if I'd got it right.  I have taught and learned from many.  I have - even if I say it myself - left a bit of myself behind in my writings, here and elsewhere.

While I still have things on my bucket list I really want to accomplish, I look back on the last 40+ years with a certain satisfaction.  And, while there are things I would change, I would not change the decision I made lo, these many years ago, to become a weaver.

She Persisted

#shepersisted

I try to not use the forum of this blog for political comment.  Recent events have made that increasingly difficult.

I am an old white woman living in Canada.  That gives me certain...privileges...that others do not share.  I also happen to be liberal leaning in my politics.

Recently a female politician in the United States was shut down from entering into the record a letter written by Coretta King.  She was prevented from reading the letter, and in fact barred from further discussion on the topic at hand.  The explanation given was that she was warned, given an explanation, but that she persisted.

All of which wouldn't mean overly much except that several men then went on to read the same letter without censure.

Since then the hashtag #shepersisted has gained traction, partly as an expression of the inequality seen in the actions of a women vs several men.  Partly as a rallying call.

But #shepersisted applies to so many layers of human endeavour.  Dreaming a dream, then persisting in making it happen.  Accepting that failure is not the end but persisting through the failure(s) to success.  Being beaten down by the events of life, but getting back up and persisting in putting one foot in front of the other.

#shepersisted is, to me, not just a political rallying point, but a maxim for living.  Over and over again events will conspire against what we want to accomplish.  If ever once we give up, then we have truly 'lost'.  Persisting in the face of discouragement (sometimes from those nearest and dearest to us), persisting in the face of physical challenges (recovering from surgery, chemo, etc., etc.,) persisting in the face of societies quashing of our dreams.

Women - and men - have persisted in the face of discouragement, blocking, derision, bullying.  By persistently working towards their goals, they have given great gifts to humanity - in some cases - to themselves - in others.

Living a fulfilling life, a meaningful life, sometimes means going against the grain of societal boundaries.  But without that persistence, we would all be poorer for it.

On a personal note, my greatest conceit (if you will) was thinking that I could be successful as a weaver in the 20th and now, into the 21st century.  It was not an easy decision, nor has it been an 'easy' life.  But it has been enormously satisfying, when I look back over the 40+ years since I made that decision.  Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would travel to as many places as I have been, meet so many delightful people, all as interested in textiles as I am, write a book (or two!), grace the cover of Handwoven not once, but twice (thrice, if you count the collection of articles on colour I saw recently advertised.)

And all because I persisted.

#fairfiberwage

There was a lot of discussion about fibre instructors getting a #fairfiberwage over the Labour Day weekend and a few weeks afterward.  But there is another aspect of getting a decent wage from fibres and that is from selling textiles.

I chose to become a professional/production weaver about 41 years ago.  I have been doing craft fairs for about 37 of those years with my own booth.  At one time I concentrated on table textiles and sold my place mats, table runners, napkins and such wholesale at the largest gift show in western Canada.  So let's just say I have a fair bit of experience doing shows at both wholesale and retail levels.

Let's also say I have had a fair degree of experience listening to the people that come through my booth.  Let's say I have learned about things like limited budgets - from both sides of the equation.  Because the one thing you do not do as a modern day crafts person making 'traditional' crafts?  You don't get rich.  And if you do manage to make money at it, you are working hard.  Very hard.

The one thing I don't want to hear, while standing in my booth?  "Your prices are way too high.  I can get a scarf at the mall for $25."  My inner voice is responding "Then go to the mall." while I smile and nod and actually say "I understand about limited budgets."

Abby Franquemont was very open about the costs of teaching, so let me be equally open about doing craft fairs at a 'high(er)' level.  

Let's take a theoretical craft fair.  One in a large metropolitan centre with a long history of presenting a high quality show.  Let's say it is open for 5 days.  Let's say the booth rental for this show (for a corner booth) is $2400.  Then add on any extras that you might need to rent for additional electrical beyond the 750 watts provided.  That might cost $100.  Let's say you rent a carpet.  That might be $75.  And so on if you need additional draping for storage or a fitting room (if you are selling clothing that needs to be tried on in private).

Or, if you don 't want to rent things like rug, lights, additional draping, you need to purchase and ship it.  Bear in mind that any draping must meet local fire code regulations, which is more and more often needing to be rated as fire retardant if not proof.

Generally most show contracts require the exhibitor to have $2M in liability insurance (in addition to whatever off site insurance you choose to have for things like a road accident with a van load of product, or theft of the vehicle before you get it unloaded - believe me, it happens).

So we chose to purchase our own flooring, lighting, etc.

This theoretical show is 450 miles away.  Now we need to add in things like the gas/mileage/wear and tear on the vehicle.  Current gasoline prices mean that this trip, to and fro, is going to cost around $200 just in gas, windshield washer fluid, etc.  Meals on the road will add another $150 or so.  The hotel for 7 nights at say $120-$150 depending on whether or not parking is included means an additional $840-$1050.  Plus any meals we buy because we are too tired to make something - at 10 pm, in our hotel room.

And that is before the doors even open.  So show costs are, worst case scenario?  $3800.  

Perhaps you have noticed there is no provision in that list for the material costs of the product, the operating costs of the studio (or even the insurance premium, but that is for the entire year, not just one show so I'm not including it here.)  There is also no mention of the labour of making the textiles.  Nor of paying any helpers that might be required - helpers who (unless they are a spouse) usually expect to at least get minimum wage.  Currently just under $12 in my province.

The uncounted 'costs' of doing craft fairs is the long hours involved - the making of the product in the first place - the set up, the hard physical labour of getting booth and inventory into the building, standing on a hard floor for, in some cases, 11 hours a day (10 am to 9 pm), sleeping in a hotel room, wondering what the weather will throw our way both back and forth, as well as during.  The hours of dealing with the public (which for an introvert is exhausting, but necessary).  And then there is the product development - the sampling, the sampling, the sampling - before I ever put a textile into production.

So no, I am not selling my scarves for $50 each.  They start at $100 and go up from there.  While it is possible to buy a scarf at the mall for pennies in comparison, what I am actually selling is my design aesthetic, my experience, my skill at making textiles.  When you buy a scarf - or a tea towel, or a place mat - from me, you are buying a piece of me.  

Comments from people who have purchased my textiles also report that you are buying quality - quality that lasts.  Textiles that can be used and enjoyed, in some cases for decades.