Fuzzy Turns

I am not going to beat around the bush here: commercially this was a failure. If I add up all the sales and deduct the money I owe to Phil Stevenson, then add up all the direct expenses (stall fee, van hire, fuel, accommodation), I am about £250 short. This could have been less had we decided to camp on site, but I would still be short. And that doesn’t even take into account indirect expenses (building the stall, and buying all the stuff that goes with it, such as paper bags and tissue, card payment device, business cards, leaflets, banner, etc.). Even further removed would be to take into consideration things such as money paid for any of the wood I used or the metal cups that go into the candlesticks, stains and dyes, lacquer, wax and what not else to actually make any of the stuff we sold. And let’s not even think about amortisation of my workshop and all the tools.

The only saving grace on that account is the fact that everybody else around us had exactly the same problem. Out of about 20 traders in the tent there were maybe 4 or 5 who covered their expenses and maybe made a bit of profit. This doesn’t bode well for future RCA presence at horse events. At least not this one. Why would anybody come back for more?

Having said all this, there are other perspectives to be had.

We always considered this event first and foremost a tester. A toe in the water. A small event to figure out whether the stall actually works. Whether I can actually get the money I want for my work. And on these levels, it worked beautifully.

The stand was erected in little time. Yes, there are a few small improvements, but overall this was easy peasy. It looked good, too, and we had loads of compliments from the other traders around us, and from (prospective) customers as well. The lights worked well, although I think I need to more lights behind the banner beaming backwards to add more sparkle.

The product selection worked. There was something there for everybody. The layout worked. The pieces in the centre did the attention grabbing they were meant to do. The prices worked: nobody tried to haggle, not even once. If anything, I think they should be higher. In reality I should sell at retail prices, i.e. cost plus 100% markup at least. We’ll try that out at the next event.

The banner worked beautifully. It really stood out and was visible from all the entrances into the tent. The whole stall said: Come and look at me, I am beautiful and you will like me.

The teamwork with Helen and Michael also worked well. If push comes to shove, I can probably do a show on my own, but it is definitely easier with two people on the stall.

And then there was the “mini holiday” effect. Whole family together for a whole weekend, nice weather, not much hard work, everybody had a bit of fun. Doesn’t happen too often nowadays, with Michael basically having moved out, Helen spending a lot of her weekends riding and me spending most weekends in the workshop.

So I reckon, overall it was a success. Not financially, but then, you can’t buy happiness. It’s priceless.

So now we are on Sunday. Spirits were still good, since we all had always promised ourselves to see this as a mini holiday rather than a serious “must sell” event. We packed all our stuff from the rooms, loaded the cars, dropped Michael’s car at a parking lot outside the estate and arrived again well in time before the RCA tent even opened.

Obviously our expectations in terms of sales were dampened, and the start to the day was indeed slow. However, it did pick up considerably, and in the end Sunday was a good day. In fact, had all three days had the same turnover as Sunday, we would have walked away with a small profit. There were even some people who poked their heads in in the morning, said they’d come back in the afternoon, and they did. We sold the last item, a pair of candlesticks for £35, just before we started packing up all our goods. Last minute, sort of. No discount, though (can’t afford that).

We also had some surprise visitors. At around 11:00, Helen’s cousin Jane popped in to pay us a visit. She runs her own business with flower arrangements, mostly for weddings and birthdays, and therefore has a good appreciation for what goes into running a small business and preparing a trade stall. She even bought a bottle stopper as a present for her dad. We always suspected she might pay us a visit, but it was still nice to see her.

And then an even bigger surprise. Another of Helen’s cousins, John, and his wife Rachel, appeared in the tent. They were completely unexpected, and John admitted that if it wasn’t for the fine weather and the fact that they live just round the corner, they wouldn’t have come. They didn’t even know we had a stall there (I don’t promote my business amongst the family, it either works with the general public or it doesn’t). And they also bought some small items.

And then we had a guy who bought my red monkeypuzzle bowl. He was so taken in by the various bowls, his wife had to almost physically restrain him from buying more than one. Not that we would have minded.

Customers are a funny lot. They come in all shades, ages, genders (we even had a gay couple), you name it. That goes to show that the fascination with wood goes across all boundaries, age groups, education. Most people like the material, and want to touch it, feel the grain. I just have to figure out what to put in front of them, so that they cannot resist and buy it.

In the end, we sold about a dozen items on Sunday, all across the range from £3.50 to £65. In the end we had even used the payment box a few times, and it worked smoothly. What a relief. Nobody ever haggled over the prices, but then some of the items were priced down from my usual level. Again, this is an area where I have to figure out what I can charge without scaring people off. If somebody is willing to spend £60 on a nice bowl, would they also spend £70 or £80?

Around 17:45 we started packing our stuff, and by 19:00 we were ready to leave. That was another success, being able to break down the stand and put it into the van completely in less than 90 minutes helps. The trip back home was largely uneventful, and that was Chatsworth done.

The next couple of posts will deal with things like: success or failure, being considerate or not, and other general ramblings. Oh, and lest I forget, I have now secured a stall at the Craft & Design Expirience in Henley-on-Thames, running from 24th of June to 26th of June. See you there!

On Saturday, we all got up in good time, and in good spirits, since everyone had reassured us that on this day sales were going to be much better than on Friday. The weather was with us, in fact it was marvellous. A slightly blustery, but sunny spring day, and Chatsworth estate showed itself from its most magnificent, almost magic side.

For those of you who have never been there, Chatsworth is the seat of the Duke of Devonshire. The house is located on the west side of a string of hills, to the east of which the proper high moors of Derbyshire begin. In front of the house is an extended (several miles long and about 1 mile wide) landscaped English garden, with big trees dotted all around, and sheep and cattle freely roaming around. A stream flows through the garden and on the other side another string of hills frames it all together. With spring blossom in full flow, and all the trees showing fresh greenery, blue and white skies above, and the flags of many a country flying around the various riding arenas, surrounded by white tents, it doesn’t take much imagination to feel yourself transported across the times. This is the quintessential English rural idyll.

Spectator numbers were certainly up from Friday, and we had much more visitors to our stall. Alas, no sales. More interesting conversations, more boredom, more of everything except sales. We managed to sell precisely one piece on Saturday.

On top of that, my neck was still playing up badly. I had more sessions lying down in the van, more pills and more cream applied to the neck. Eventually I figured out that the only that really helped was paracetamol, lots of it. It didn’t remove the stiffness in my neck, but at least it subdued the stabbing needles every time I moved my head ever so slightly.

Michael and Helen rearranged the items on the shelves several times, and we tried every trick in the book to get people to come in and have a closer look. It was no good. The stalls were kept open until 18:30, to catch even the last possible prospect. Again, we were not the only ones. All around us, everybody complained. Nigel from the RCA observed that this was a different crowd from last year. According to him, there are three different crowds you can get at horse events. The first sort are the town people. They hardly every buy anything, mostly because they expect things to be priced at Tesco level, and secondly because many of them simply don’t have any money to spend. The second sort of people are horsey people, i.e. people who have horses and look after them themselves. Again, they don’t buy much. They do appreciate the work and they don’t haggle over prices, but they haven’t got any money left once the horses are fed. And finally, the third lot are horsey people who have others looking after their horses. These are the ones that buy stuff, as they appreciate the value and they have the money.

Sadly, on Friday it was mostly horsey people and on Saturday almost exclusively town people. In consequence, bad business.

We finished the day with a nice meal at a restaurant just down the road from Riber Hall. If you ever get into this part of the world, The Royal Oak in Tansley has a good cuisine, moderate prices, excellent quality and service.