Author: Betsy

Eurovision, Writing Authentically, + Finding Your Audience

| Betsy

So, I don’t know about you, but I watched the Eurovision Song Contest this past weekend. And it was brilliant. Serbia’s performance was AMAZING. And, personally, I think they were robbed. Robbed! You can see the whole thing for yourself here:

And after it was all said and done with, I started thinking about some of the cultural differences between Americans and Europeans. Like how Americans are great and awesome, but not always so hot at being authentic. We’re too worried we’re going to hurt someone’s feelings or divulge too much of ourselves and therefore leave ourselves open for attack. Whereas Europe is all ready for weird. All the time. For proof, check out Georgia’s (the country’s) entry for Eurovision this year. It’s like a female version of The Crow, but more stylish:

As Americans, we want everyone to like us so much that we look kind of vapid in comparison at times. No, not all the time, but a lot of the time we edit our personal details out in the name of wanting to be likable.

And that’s fine in our personal lives, but what about the lives of our businesses? There is so much noise about talking to your one customer. Therefore, I spent days mulling over this and getting frustrated, because there is no one demographic that I’m writing to. I don’t the specifics, like what they wear, because they wear whatever the eff they feel like. As instead, I’m writing to people who have the same soul as me, the ones who are realists, also but secretly kinda dreamy.

Here’s who I am writing to:

The ones who get excited about long talks til dawn with someone new. Who know sadness closely well enough to know that seeing the world as beautiful is something that we choose to do. The nerds who will always choose the right thing to do, even if that means not winning. The ones who do the right thing when no one is watching because not to do it would internally feel like a skip on a record sounds. The ones that sometimes cry because they’re so happy and present and in the moment that big fat tears of joy stream down your face. The old souls that know that craft is good for you in its way of connecting us to both past and present and nourishing in both act and product. The ones that have a special time of the day that they carve out for its exquisite soul-filling silence. Those who find the beach in winter almost more beautiful than in summer. Those who revel in the light touch of fireflies when they land on your skin. The ones that know that holding hands in silence can be either super hot or super okay and that you don’t always need words. People that laugh at kids’ jokes. And at any party with a pet present, seeks out the pet to pat before leaving. Someone who knows the value of ritual, but also that it’s okay not to have one every night. Someone who still believes in magic despite being old “enough” to know better. People who love sitting at the kid’s table.

These are my people. I am nourished by the fact that they (you!) found me and am humbled by the fact they (you!) stay. My people want more, but not more things. More a-ha moments and memories and depth. What do I hope I give to them (you!)? Newly resurrected, on this blog, heading out on my own for freelancing, I hope to give some depth to your day, not to make you ponder, but to make you feel grounded in your life, your craft, and your choices.

And I hope that I do just that. Who do you write to? One demographic? One person? Or specific types of beings? Why do they get up in the morning? What specifically makes them have a self-described “good day?” I think finding “what” drives people is more important than “who” these people are. Agree? Disagree? Agree to disagree?

Craft Is About The Making, Not About “Moral Virtue”

| Betsy
While these cats in this 1915 Henry Whittier Frees may feel superior to you, it's probably because they're cats, not because they're sewing.
While these cats in this 1915 Henry Whittier Frees may feel superior to you, it’s probably because they’re cats, not because they’re sewing.

Thank all of you last week, who read, shared, and commented on my rebuttal post to Emily Matchar’s NYT op-ed piece and my post about why Etsy owes its sellers nothing, despite recent (and disappointing) changes. Those pieces were nearer and dearer to my heart than most.

One of the things in Matchar’s article that I found most upsetting was this paragraph:

Our hunger for handmade has gone beyond aesthetics, uniqueness and quality. In progressive circles, buying handmade has come to connote moral virtue, signifying an interest in sustainability and a commitment to social justice. By making your own cleaning supplies, you’re eschewing environment-poisoning chemicals. By buying a handmade sweater, you’re fighting sweatshop labor. By chatting with the artisan who makes your soap, you’re striking a blow against our alienated “Bowling Alone” culture.

Because if you actually craft and make things, chances are high you do not do so because of so-called “moral virtue.” You do so because you like it.

And, to be honest, this has less to do with Matchar than it does with people outside of the maker community at large. The people who because they don’t get it, they make up reasons why it’s bad. The people who don’t see that it’s fun to make something for yourself. That seeing alternatives to fast fashion and mass produced is not a superiority thing, it’s a natural thing. Humans have made things much much longer than they have bought them in stores. They don’t know what it’s like to create something with your own two hands. The satisfaction, the sense of accomplishment, the sense of love and care.

To have such a sense of curosity and wonder about how things are being made that we circumvent the mall at times is, as Martha Stewart would say, a good thing. And as happens to most good things, some people that don’t understand turn them into bad things, which happens whenever something comes along that people don’t like or understand. Yes, there are people who make things and buy things because it makes them full superior to some degree. However, assigning that value to someone else just speaks to one thing, the thinker’s own insecurities.

Unless someone comes up and says, “I am better than you for drinking this kale smoothie” or “You suck for not handquilting your bedspread,” you really don’t know what they’re thinking. Yes, you can assign what they’re thinking, but that’s just you making a guess. It’s preying on your insecurities, and then it eats away at you.

Apparently this is my worst nightmare.
Apparently this is my worst nightmare.

Here’s an example. So I go “running” several times a week. It’s actually a combination of running and walking. I am very slow. I am also pretty insecure about running very slow. Since I go running fairly early in the morning or mid-afternoon, I always seem to get passed by a school bus, which is pretty much my worst nightmare. Kids will tell you exactly what they think, and there is a special breed of kids who will yell things that aren’t so nice. There is an insecure part of me that’s worried they will yell something about me being not so skinny or slow or (hell’s bells!) both. This insecurity didn’t pop out of thin air, those comments were lobbed at me when I was a kid. (In other words, I was primed to be somewhat neurotic about it later on.)

I also picked low-traffic streets to run on so I don’t have cross the paths of many people, because, after all, I’m not so good at running and am focusing on breathing, much less panting what would be a very weak and pathetic “hello.” (I’ve since decided on doing a two-finger wave that sporty people and motorcycle people seem to have down cold. At least in my head I’ll look cool.) And, God forbid, when I cross paths with someone even remotely sporty looking, I turn into a 7th grader for a few seconds. Suddenly, I’m thinking that they are thinking that I’m too big to run, too slow or both.

Cut to when I’m back to walking. Someone jogging passes me. I think, “Yay! They’re jogging!,” not “OMG, look at her butt.” Because I am happy to see other people exercising and I don’t care. (And also, I may be still focusing on trying to breathe!) However, they could be fully convinced I’m doing the latter, even though I’m cheering them on in my head. And this waste of psychic energy bemuses and bewilders me, because we all do it, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try and combat it. Or maybe I should put my energy into doing a cool head nod instead of a two-fingered wave.

Because those buses that pass me? Where I’m thinking some kid is going to yell something crappy at me? I realized the other day they’re actually empty. There are no kids. I was getting worried/pissed/annoyed for no reason. I (literally in this case!) made it up. Which is just what we do when we think that someone thinks they’re better than us. We don’t know. We’re assigning our insecurities (poor, slow, not at the weight they want to be, old, the list goes on) to them. We’re -ahem- projecting.

So the next time you think that person pulling out the organic lip balm out of her upcycled purse thinks she’s better than you? They’re enjoying themselves while you’re getting yourself in a snit because you think they think they’re superior. They are happy, you are bitching about something that doesn’t exist. How about going and making something that makes you happy instead of finding things to complain about that only exist in your own head?

Just remember that making is about connecting*. Connecting ourselves to others, connecting our hands to the things we make, connecting our brains to our hearts, connecting, connecting, connecting. By thinking that this connecting is about superiority, you’re missing the whole point. It’s about being fully human and following your curiosities instead of what anyone else tells you to do. Or what you think you should do. In diving in to crafts and handmade, we become better versions of ourselves, not superior versions, but fuller versions of who we really are.

*For more on that, see David Gauntlet’s brilliant book, Making is Connecting.

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Why Etsy Owes You Nothing. (And Also Some Stuff About the McRib.)

| Betsy

business is business

A few years ago, the sandwich shop Maoz on M St. in Washington DC closed unexpectedly. As much as I was gutted to no longer be able to get cheap falafel a block from my office, I was super gutted because my Maoz loyalty card was full and I was due for a free falafel sandwich. I had been sitting on it waiting for the perfect day for falafel (but then again, what day isn’t perfect for falafel?!) and kind of daydreaming about their amazing free toppings bar instead.

But, Maoz is a business. They are allowed to close at any point in time. They are also allowed to become a quinoa burger chain at any moment or to remove the free toppings bar with that balls-to-the-wall cilantro sauce. I mean, really, just look at this photo!

However, they are a business. They can do whatever they want, whenever they want. That’s why they started a business, because it literally gives them the power to do whatever they want (well, within the law). That also includes talking to lawyers and writing language that is, shall we say, “debatable” or “workable” or “flexible.”

And, whether they admit it or not, most Etsy sellers have their own business. Whether you have sold 1 item in 5 years or 5,000 items in 1 year, you are a business. I know it may sound weird to some of you, but it’s true, you have the potential to become “the man,” because you are a business owner.

So… why do so many Etsy sellers think they are owed stuff? Some of them even believe they should sue Etsy. Um, for what, exactly? Because Etsy is a tool, a service, for your business, nothing more.

I’ve stayed out of it until I came across this site the other day. GAUNTLET DROPPED. Because for those confused, rape means that someone forced you into something of a very private nature and that you can’t leave without facing injury or death. And erm, there is no way in hell Etsy raped America, because that would mean all Americans, and that just doesn’t even make sense. TO ANYONE. Etsy is a business that people sign up for. Rape is not something that people sign up for.

I put those last two sentences in a comment on their blog. I was told to “get educated” and that rape also means “to pillage and plunder.” First of all, never tell someone to “get educated” without background checking first. I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I come pretty well-armed to a craft fight. Secondly, using the word “rape” in a context other than the physical act diminishes the horror and trauma of the act. And, as such, it is never okay. (And if you think it is okay, ask someone else about it, given that every 107 seconds someone is sexually assaulted chances are high you’ll find someone that doesn’t agree with you very soon.)

After this occurred, I began to think more about this sheer outrage at Etsy. How people think they were owed something like they were actually employees of Enron.

And I think the problem boils down to a couple of things:

1. We drank the Kool-Aid: When Etsy came around saying it was a place to sell handmade things, we conflated this as meaning it supported handmade and only handmade. Seeing how much soul and creativity and love is wrapped up into handmade things we thought, “Hey, they have our back!” Well, they are a business. They can do what they want. And they never had your back, if they did, they would be a non-profit.

2. And now we feel cheated: Because we gave Etsy support and our business and those fees sellers have to pay for each transaction (which should have been clue #1 that Etsy was not just in it to help you, the handmade seller, out), they owe us something, right? Nope. They owe you nothing.

3. But, they can’t change the rules! Wrong. They own a business. They can do whatever they want. It’s like McDonald’s and the McRib. They keep selling it. And then stopping. And then selling it. And then stopping. Why do they do this? NO ONE ACTUALLY KNOWS. However, they can and so they do. They owe the McRib to no one and to nothing, except pure and inexplicable whim.

4. We had no Plan B: Because of #1, people got cozy with Etsy and made it a kind of craft demigod. While other online sites that sell handmade things popped up, too, everyone kept praying to Etsy. Because Etsy has their back, right? Nope. It takes your money. If it was a charity, this would be a completely different post. People didn’t diversify or build up other platforms or their own sites because they had Etsy. And Etsy was good. Until it wasn’t.

5. We don’t know how to sell without Etsy: Because many of us have never had to. As an OG crafter (I just learned this term and it’s cracking me up, it means I was a pre-Etsy crafter… Getcrafty.com in 2001, represent!), I can tell you that handmade things existed before Etsy. And they will exist afterwards. Etsy made it easy for people to sell their handmade goods online because they put a lot of work into the platform. This is good because it’s Etsy and this is also bad because it made people complacent.

The point is, Etsy sellers have a right to be angry. But they are not owed anything. Just like they have the right to be angry, they also have the right to leave.

The choice now is do you want to put all your faith in them not to change again? Or in another platform? Or stand more on your own two feet? Or band together with other crafters and come up with some sort of mission-driven super platform of fabulous so this doesn’t happen again?

If choose the latter, go check out this list of 12 alternatives. Also, if you choose another platform, do yourself a solid and get some/all/most of your friends to join you on said-alternative platform. Then, once you’re all nice and comfy over there, together put out press releases and social media campaigns like you’re Whitesnake doing a 2015 reunion. This will work even better if you either have lots of people with you (meaning you could even make a public statement) or have people working in different mediums, so you can get different types of buyers.

I write all of this because in the past 14 years I’ve seen a lot of flux in the craft world. I could also write a history paper on all the changes that happen with handmade things, handmade culture, and the crafternet in general. But that would be skipping over the obvious, which is your business is just that, YOUR BUSINESS. You can choose to rely on one source of income and never look to others. And that may work forever, but then again, the rules may change and you may be screwed.

You can also pull up those awesome handknitted socks and stop with all the vitriol, which is doing no one any good. Whipping people into a frenzy is like a bad rave, people get hit by accident and no one remembers who started it. Put all that crafty energy towards improving your business instead. If you hate Etsy, leave. Just don’t let it break you, you crafty minx.

Handmade will hold you. It will hold you in its heart and never let you go. Platforms, tools, services, not so much. If it’s the craft you love, they gosh darn it, lean in already. Use what you love to go forward. Don’t be held back. And don’t go waiting for things to change back to how it was earlier, either, unless you’re waiting for the McRib, that game never changes.

P.S. I also suggest reading this lovely post by my friend Marlo on this same issue.

Yes, Craft Can Save the World. Slowly. (Or, 7 Times Emily Matchar Was Wrong. And 2 Times She Was Right.)

| Betsy

woman knitting loc 1941 copy

So Emily Matchar’s article in the New York Times, Sorry, Etsy. That Handmade Scarf Won’t Save the World., last week was, in a word, flawed. It came up on my radar 3x in 1 week, actually, from radically different individuals.

Here’s the thing, though, she has valid points. Here’s the other thing, I think they’re the wrong points.

1. “Once a mark of poverty, handmade is hot these days.”

Um, really? For everyone? First of all, when making things by hand started, it was necessity, not poverty, that made it a reality. Secondly, this is not an objective truth. It’s a subjective statement, meaning, “in my world, [handmade was] once a mark of poverty.” Thirdly, this statement sucks all the joy out of making, suggesting that craft is solely about making ends meet post-Industrial Revolution, not about actually enjoying said act of craft. This is not a hot note to start on, but I digress.

2. “Our hunger for handmade has gone beyond aesthetics, uniqueness and quality. In progressive circles, buying handmade has come to connote moral virtue, signifying an interest in sustainability and a commitment to social justice.”

Nope nopity nope nope. Just because I care about sustainability and social justice doesn’t mean I get high on “moral virtue.” It means that I give a crap about how things are made and how the people that make them are treated. I make and buy handmade solely because of “aesthetics, uniqueness and quality.” And know scores of people who do, too. The fact that the Times has printed this as from a person who speaks for crafters is two things: a) sad and b) possibly delusional. I’ve read her writing and agree she has her points. However, her points are not the points of many of us.

3. “While buying homemade gifts is a lovely thing to do, thinking of it as a social good is problematic.”

According to Emily it is problematic. Because actually, here’s how and why craft can save the world. Learning to sew and knit and make garments teaches us how they are constructed. Those hours that we spend making garments are not to make ourselves socially superior. We make things because we like to make things. (Or maybe Matchar just hates making things and wants to prove a point?) And in learning how to make things, we begin to understand that the $10 shirt we buy at the store with the handbeading takes 10 hours (or more!) to make. Making things allows us to put this together, which then changes our buying practices. Since we’re a friendly bunch, our friends sometimes want to learn how to make things too, thus, they end up changing their own buying practices. We’re like a cult of slow-moving awesome.

4. “Very few of us will order a $50 handmade scarf on Etsy when one is available for $5 at Target.”

What if the $5 one is horrible and the $50 is just what we want? Once we learn how to construct garments, the game changes. Plus, nylon won’t do wool’s job, amiright? Once we start to make things, we see that if we make (or buy) something that we truly want, we will want to keep it for 10 years (and if we’re choosy about materials, it can even last that long!), not 10 weeks. Making things wisens us up to the fast-fashion problem. And once we begin to put things in our wardrobes that we actually want, they stay. Items that we kind of-sort of like end up being discarded soon.

5. “Is it better for my dollar to go to the likable, just-like-me Brooklyn mom selling handmade headbands on Etsy or to a company that uses garment factories like Alta Gracia?”

Ah, Alta Gracia. This one sounds pretty good, right? Well, not until you realize that there is only ONE Alta Gracia. In fact, it is such a special unicorn there was that whole book written about it. Yes, it is better to put your money towards factories like Alta Gracia. But, in the fast fashion world, Alta Gracia’s are not the norm. Your average factory is doing things like locking doors on workers and not providing toilet paper and not conducting safety checks on fire escapes. Additionally, according to their website, Alta Gracia “sells “collegiate branded products” to the bookstore retail channel.” Now I sure as heck love my hoodies, but wearing sweatpants 24/7 is not my jam. If it is your jam, I apologize, as you were, you elastic-loving shapeless charmer! You are safe in the knowledge that your money is well spent! Yeah!

6. “These same economies of scale most likely make a toothbrush factory less wasteful, in terms of materials, than 100 individual toothbrush makers each handcrafting 10 toothbrushes a day.”

Wait a minute. How did we get to dental products? I am so confused. I do love an argument that is predicated with the words “most likely,” however, don’t you? In other words, there is nothing to see here, she’s just guessing at something to make an argument. Emily dear, I’ve seen your writing, you are worth more than guessing about toothbrushes in an article about scarves.

7. “A potentially positive effect of the handmade movement has been the creation of a new income stream for parents (mostly mothers) and others who need flexible work.”

Yes. This is a truism. The handmade movement has provided a lot of people flexibility to try new ventures. To some that ups the number of crochet dilettantes, but to me, it just means more people trying different ideas on for size… which is pretty dang rad.

8. “It’s important to support artisans who retain knowledge of traditional art forms. Many handmade items are also higher quality than their mass-produced counterparts.”

Yes. This is also true. However, where do they fit in terms of Alta Gracia-level quality? Because if they are better than mass-produced goods, which you clearly state here, your strongest argument so far (#5), is further falling to pieces.

9. “But will buying handmade change the economy or save the world? Not likely.”

According to you it won’t, that is. However, for people off making garments (and shocker, they are even enjoying it!) and realizing the sham of fast fashion, things are changing. Their decisions are making dents in how our future will roll. Small dents, but they are making dents.

Now, when I started my career writing about crafts, I told myself I would never ever be negative about someone’s work. And look, here I am. Am I a hypocrite? Perhaps. However, I’d like to think that I’m speaking up for all the people making changes in their clothes-buying habits. The ones slowly changing how they think about materialism and fast fashion. The ones creating positive dialogue about handmade things, instead of trying to tear down something they don’t even particularly seem to like.

Handmade was here before the resurgence that began around the turn of this century. And it will stay. And people will learn lessons from it and continue to make items they want for their wardrobes. And these choices will be freeing and amazing and ultimately help change the conversation away from needing to hit the latest sale at The Gap. No, it will not be a fast change, but making garments isn’t a fast process, either. And we like it that way.

And no, my tiny blog is not the New York Times. But maybe, just maybe, someone will read this and remember that handmade can save the world in its own way. And feel proud about wanting to learn new things, instead of dissed at doing it for “moral virtue.”

Yes, there is room for all sorts of voices regarding craft, even for this article I’m railing against. And because there’s room for it, there’s also room for a piece that is a reminder of how good craft can be. How good makers can be. How good for us (on a global level) it is to learn how to make things. How making things gives us an education about how unfair things are in this world. And, yes, a piece about how our skills can change the world, by the items that we create, by the purchases we don’t make, and the resulting conversations we have in that wake.

Small Victories.

| Betsy

Small victories. We all have them. Small triumphs over small things can personally feel just as good as big victories over big things. But do we always take note of those small victories?

I think we do, actually. Especially these days with apps like Instagram, where we can take visual note of our every day goodnesses and kindnesses and small victories.

When I look over my Instagram feed, I see small victories that I would have otherwise not noticed. A quote that makes my day stronger, a handmade sock (made by my hands!) that fits my foot well and doesn’t fall off, and a photo that simultaneously makes me happy with myself in the mirror and makes me further appreciate art (in this case, Yayoi Kusama’s Infinity Mirror Room at Museum Boijmans van Beuningen in Rotterdam).

When was the last time you noted a small victory? Really truly felt that little (or big!) leap of accomplishment deep down? Did you capture it on camera? Take a mental snapshot in your mind? Kiss the memory with your soul?

I think as makers, we need to dive into these moments and let them truly wash over us in order to keep our creative well full. Do you agree? If so, how do you do it?

virgil

sock

yayoi kusama