Is it a craft show tradition that your first one should be a complete and utter failure? Someone say it is, because mine was, it was on Saturday and boy, it stank.
Of course it didn’t help that even though we’d booked it on the understanding that it was a handmade christmas craft fair only to find out that of the 20 plus stalls there only three were selling handmade and the rest antiques and mass produced chintz. Or that the organisers of the fair were charging people to come in and so discouraging a number of people from even coming in to look.
So we made enough between us – my mum, sister and I – to buy a Chinese for us all before John and I made the tiring trip back to Liverpool at 8 o’clock. A Chinese is all well and good but it hardly compensates for weeks worth of sewing and embroidery through rain, shine, work and the flu. I guess it was just completely the wrong market. Wrong stalls, wrong location, wrong organisers. We know for next time.
So the question now is, what next? There’s a couple of fairs in Liverpool next month and in December so I may give them a go. It’s just so gosh darn disheartening to not even have people stop to have a look, just to walk straight past.
I’m just feeling blue I think because that craft fair came on top of a £250 catalytic converter, a rubbish time at work and John sitting on our bed this morning to have it collapse under his and Donald’s combined weight. Still, everything I failed to sell has now been listed on Etsy and tomorrow after all, is another day. I just hope it doesn’t rain x
(I’ve just re-read what I’ve written I realised I sound an awful lot like Droopy Dog. To paraphrase another cartoon dog’s friend, good grief.)
