Tag Archives: Rambling

Why Shopping on Etsy is Problematic

Last week, Wired Magazine ran an online story about etsy alienating it’s base in the interest of making money. There is no shortage of articles about how etsy has lost it’s soul. Just a couple of weeks ago, I told my own story about closing down my etsy shop. While my decision had just as much to do my personal change in focus as it did with etsy’s policy shifts, I feel no less disappointed at the transformation of the handmade marketplace into a corporate one.

Etsy was the place to go when you didn’t want to buy from a box store. It was a place where you could easily find unique, handmade pieces. It was a reliable source for gifts that had a story. Etsy was the site that connected the consumer directly to the producer. You knew when you shopped on etsy that you were helping an artist fund her dreams.

Buying through etsy was also subversive. You were taking a stand against consumer culture one piece of handmade jewelry or vintage tableware at a time. Your purchase wasn’t just a new handbag, it was a protest against mass production and etsy was the standard bearer.

With Etsy becoming a publicly traded company, that protest starts to feel a little flimsy. The oomph is out of the gesture because the primary focus is no longer on the independent artist, it’s on how to maximize profits for the company at large. Sure, etsy will still connect you with an artist,if you take the time to sift through the pages and pages of trendy mass produced stuff to find what you’re looking for, and that artist will still get your money, minus the small fee etsy takes.

Charging fees to sellers has always been the way etsy makes money. Compared to the price of running a brick and mortar store, etsy is relatively inexpensive: $.20 to list, a small percentage when something sells, a few dollars a week to boost listings. It’s a humble investment, and when you’re looking for a place to launch your fledgling handmade business, etsy sounds like a steal.

The way etsy attracts it’s sellers through campaigns like Quit Your Day Job, which features shops that make a living wage for their sellers feels disingenuous. The series plays on the romantic daydreams of office workers who hate their jobs, promising that they too might one day work from their own sunlit studio. While grist.org reports that only 18% of etsy sellers are able to make a living from their shops, etsy sells the promise of a living wage to budding entrepreneurs who have little chance of making it. Meanwhile, etsy collects more fees from small sellers struggling to just have their items seen, let alone purchased.

The system favors those sellers who already have a high volume of sales or have the money to invest in etsy’s on-site advertising before any sales are made. Whether the artist is selling or not, etsy is making money. Charging sellers just to get their products seen is likely to cost them more as making money takes precedence over providing a unique marketplace. Making this switch turns etsy into the kind of company shoppers like me were trying to avoid in the first place. The site’s focus has become less about helping the consumer find the perfect product, and more about producing profit, through luring in new sellers.

And yet, there are still artists on etsy whose shops are a big part part of their business plan. Some don’t sell anywhere else. If we want to keep the focus on the artists, the ones whose dreams to make a living from their art are completely legitimate, what is a consumer to do?

First, I would do a little digging and see if the artist sells anywhere else you can purchase from: her website, a local boutique, a craft show, etc. Buy local if possible and keep that money in your community. But if you’ve found the perfect self-striping sock yarn from an indie dyer two states away who only sells on etsy, then go ahead and buy it. Your purchase is still helping that artist live her dream, even if etsy isn’t.

Scary Stories

Thank you so much everyone for the great show of support over my last post. It took me two months to figure out how to write those words, and now that they are out there, I feel liberated.

I also feel this horrible pressure to produce a stellar follow up. I look at my word processor with a little bit of fear now, thinking about how I am going to top the last post? Or, screw top it, just match it? How am I going to do that consistently, two or three times a week, every week, forever?

The obvious answer is, of course, to put my butt in a chair, my fingers on a keyboard, and start typing. For a long time though, even that was too hard for me to do. I would sit down and the ants-in-the-pants feeling that prompted me to learn how to knit just so I would have something to do with my hands–that can’t keep still, have to fiddle with something anxiety that settles in my jaw and hardens my shoulders–would paralyze me with tension. If I let it go too long, it turned my stomach and knots up my neck until I can’t see for the pain radiating through my head.

I used to open up a word processor and fear my potential. I would sit numb in front of my computer, the ability to think having fled in the face of this big, scary thing I said I wanted to do. Not wanting to take the time to search out the right words was easy to blame on being busy with work, being tired from the kids, being burned out by school. Closing the lid on my laptop was so simple and authoritative an action. No writing today.

November 1st, I sat down at my computer and told myself to write 2000 words. No pressure. “They don’t have to be good words,” I said to me. In fact, let them be shitty words. Let them be boring words, just write them. You can always change them later.

That’s how I got through the whole first draft of my novel.

Nanowrimo taught me how to write everyday. But I was still afraid to do simple things in my story–honest things–like have two characters who are fighting get really pissed off at one another. My climax was the most amiable, life-changing altercation you’ve ever seen. The problem was, in my head, this pivotal confrontation was monumental, but the conflict on the page read as trivial at best.

The final third of the novel hangs in the balance, and I’m afraid to let the main characters say too many mean things to each other in case the reader stops liking them?

How stupid is that?

Not only does that not give you, as the reader, enough credit, but it completely undermines the whole point of the story. No conflict = no story. If my characters were sensible people, he and she wouldn’t be in the predicament they’re in in the first place, and you probably wouldn’t ever read it, because it would be boring as hell.

(You’re enjoying all this vague talk about my novel, aren’t you? What’s not to like?)

Fear of readers not liking my characters kept me from committing to a crucial scene, and fear of boring you now made this a really difficult post to write. Scariest of all is what I’m planning to do next–which is to pursue writing as my (eventual) main source of income.

Isn’t that the freakiest shit you ever heard of?

Scares the pants off me.

Not only does seriously pursuing a freelance writing career involve sitting down at my computer every day and facing the fear that my words are fucking lame, but it also means that I have to drum up the courage to make for myself the profession, but have always feared I’d fail at.

What’s even more horrifying though, is not trying at all.

It’s Time for Something Different

Some of you may or may not have noticed that I closed down my etsy shop a couple of weeks ago. I tweeted about it last week, but otherwise, I closed it down fairly quietly. It was not a bittersweet moment for me.

dinning room before

The glamour of selling hand dyed yarn and fiber lost it’s appeal about two years ago. If you’ve been reading my blog since May 2013, when we had to leave our cozy little apartment and I didn’t have a place to dye for awhile, it probably doesn’t come as a surprise. I’ve bounced around with what I’ve shared with you since then, a little sewing, a little printing, a little gardening, even a free knitting pattern or two. Each and every one of those things was so much fun in the moment that I wanted to share them with you, hoping you’d be diverted as well.

But as I go back and read over some of my posts, I have to admit, that I am less than impressed.

calbedpulloverstorage

I can tell I was just dashing off posts as quick as can be–and lets face it, they were pretty shallow.

minerva

One of the reasons I closed down my etsy shop was that I just didn’t feel like I fit in there anymore. I love the DIY lifestyle. I love making my own chicken stock and yogurt, I love processing my own yarn from a big greasy fleece. I love composting and gardening and making my own soap–but you know what’s left after you do all of those things?

A mess.

messydesk

A big fat one.

But etsy is selling a curated, tastefully simple, DIY lifestyle these day, and kind of leaving the DIY out of it. Don’t get me wrong, there are still a million, brilliant artists still selling on etsy, but most of the time those artists are buried in a sea of not-so-handmade listings.

airbenderstripes

When it comes to the fiber arts though, my competition remained largely other indie dyers and small farmers, and I was completely cool with that. What I was not cool with was the ever increasing price it cost just to get product views.

When I was really having fun with dyeing yarn and doing my yarn club, I could make a couple hundred dollars or more a month off my web sales, after etsy and paypal fees. Not enough to live off, but a couple extra trips to the grocery store if need be or a part for the car, that sort of thing. A couple of years ago, etsy introduced search ads, which allowed you to put your product at the top of the page when someone searched for the keywords you used on your listings. You could cap how much money you wanted to spend on search ads each week, and I thought it was effective. I put my reasonable cap on and saw an increase in sales and in page views when I used them.

tiny_dino_knit_before_it_was_cool_notecard

A few months ago, they switched the search adds to a bidding system which was not cost effective for a small shop like mine. The minimum cap was about $1/day. I gave it a try one month–while admittedly not doing a whole lot of other promotion–and paid about twice in fees as what I made in sales. I turned it off the next month and received hardly any page views and no sales. I don’t think I’d ever had a month with no sales since I opened my shop, but in December and January it was zilch, zippo, nothing.

I’m not blaming etsy’s new systems entirely. I have already said my heart wasn’t in it anymore, but the recent changes were the nail in the coffin of my little etsy shop. It feels like, as etsy has switched from a website where you go to find handmade originals, to where you go to find what’s on trend, that etsy is more preoccupied with selling the idea of a lifestyle rather than the goods that make that lifestyle possible. I thought etsy was supposed to be a stepping stone for launching a handmade business, but it feels to me now like it’s more concerned with nickel and diming the indie artist out of their studio space.

It certainly wasn’t the right place for me anymore.

clementines and cherry blossoms

And I feel like, while I was trying to fit into that etsy aesthetic, so was my blog. My identity as a blogger was confused. My writing was mediocre at best.

I wrote in November about sticking with Nanowrimo for the first time ever, even though I have goddamn degree in creative writing. I haven’t stopped writing since I started back in November. I’m putting the finishing touches on a draft of a novel, and hope to start searching for an agent sometime later this year. It’s taught me a lot about myself–one of them being that I tend toward caution when I really want to kick and to curse and to generally stir up a fuss.

uterus

Writing my novel has shown me that while I don’t believe in censorship, I certainly was practicing it on myself a lot, telling myself this was too controversial to write about, or that was too political. That I would write “fuck” too many times and offend someone.

carrotjuicemarla

And now I kind of don’t give a damn.

What’s this mean moving forward? I’ll still write about my knitting and my gardening, but I might also write about books or my writing. I might piss you off. I might insult you. Mostly, I hope to make you laugh, or to motivate you to live your dream. Because I have always wanted to be writer, but I never had the courage to let myself be one before.

imadeit

Getting Things in the Mail

A few months ago, I heard about this thing called a bluum box. It’s like a birch box, but instead of makeup, which I don’t really think that much about, you get baby stuff! I thought, cool, I’ll give a try one of these days. Last week, I received my first box.
my first bluum box

I’m not going to lie, it was kind of exciting to get a box of goodies in the mail…

inside my first bluum box
And then I opened it.

I’m not going to say that I’m disappointed, because it has some really nice things in there. A checkerboard? Cool! Makeup remover wipes. Useful. Luna bar. Eaten immediately. Questionable parenting book. Meh. Hot or Cold Eye Mask. Possibly the best thing I never would have purchased myself but am glad I now own ever.

It wasn’t really what was in the box, because for the most part, I liked the stuff. It was really more that it just seemed really gratuitous to me. Did I really need any of this stuff? No. Well, perhaps the snack bar, because I was starving at the time, and it really did taste like carrot cake, which was impressive. But everything else, I would never buy ever. And it took me a couple of days to figure out why I was feeling so ambivalent about this box after I had been so excited to receive it. And it simply boils down to the fact that I’m not used to buying stuff.

I’m not in the habit of buying much outside necessities, and what I do tend to purchase, I usually consider tools. Yarn, needles, wool, dye, fabric, paint, books like these
new books

All of those things have potential to turn into other things that are useful or salable. They aren’t so obviously consumerish. I totally weirded myself out for a few days, trying to figure out why I felt so off about receiving a box in the mail. Getting things in the mail is usually fun! Plus, it’s a built in blog post once a month, bargain!

So yes, I cancelled my bluum box subscriptions, and I think I’ll stick to wet wash cloths to remove my makeup and actual carrot cake instead of snack bars that try to pretend they are healthy versions of carrot cake. I will totally rock that eye mask the next time I have a migraine though, and I will feel completely decadent the whole time I do.

Sky Scapes in Wool

It has taken me a whole month, but I have finally organized, photographed, edited and listed all the of the fiber I dyed in January and February. (I didn’t do a whole helluva lot in March, I’m not going to lie. I was in a late winter funk. Most of this work has been done in the past week.)

I dyed a whole set of wool in an interpretation of different sky scenes I’ve witnessed in the past few months. I was really proud of them, and I think they turned out just how I imagined. I was happily adding the braids of Falkland wool to etsy when I realized that all of the first names that popped into my head happened to also be the titles of all of the books in the Twilight series! I wrote a paper (for myself, which has never seen the light of day) that was pretty damning of Twilight on a literary level. (I was working on Tess of the d’Urbervilles for school at the time, the contrast was night and day, I tell you. Night and bloody day.) I thought to myself, while those names are succinct, you can be more specific. You can do better. So, yes, I changed the names of what I was going to call my braids of hand-painted fiber because I didn’t want them called the same thing as Twilight books. I kept one (New Moon) because there was nothing else I wanted to call it, that I felt fit. Everything else went.

Why?

Because I like to bash on teen vampire angst-drama? No. I mean, I think it’s an horrific series of books for all numbers of reasons, but you can blame that on the high-falutin Creative Writing degree if you like. No. I changed the names, because once the thought occurred to me that I could do better, I had to try.

Telling myself that I can do better has been a great motivating factor for me these past few weeks. I have been scheming and planning on how I can once again work for myself for a year. Since the day I went back to being employed by someone else, I have been thinking about how I could get back to working from home, and actually making money at it this time. Knowing that the second time around I won’t be so completely zonked from the marathon that was finishing my degree and working a pre-dawn, low-wage job for years, so I won’t need so long to recover is in itself a huge leap forward from before. Building a confidence in myself through my current place of employment has certainly helped. It has reinforced that I am good at what I do–which is a much better feeling than not being able to find a non-pre-dawn, non-low-wage job after busting my ass to get my diploma. It’s easy to caught in the security of the steady paycheck and just give up trying to do what I want. But you know when you leave for work in the morning and you know you could easily fill the next 10 hours with your own creative work that the job is just a temporary solution. And here’s the thing, I really flippin like my job. It’s exactly the perfect fit for me if I am not going to be working for myself. I feel blessed–ineffably lucky–to have this job. But at the end of the day, I know I can do better.

I have had it in my head for so long that I need a three-year plan to be back to working from home again, but even with the best intentions, I don’t sit down and try to outline this plan. I keep putting it off month-by-month so that my three years has already nearly become four. I would like it to not become five. So I am endeavoring to start putting as many hours in on the work I would like to make money from as I do on the work I do make money from.

You came here to look at pictures of pretty hand-dyed fiber and I tricked you into to reading an hour’s worth of belly-gazing. Aren’t I sneaky?

Here’s the wool:

foggy morning falkland
Foggy Morning

newmoonfalkland
New Moon

summer skies 3
Summer Skies

starry night falkland2
Starry Night

Sunset Falkland
Sunset

dawn
Dawn

Thunderclouds Falkland
Thunderclouds

And no, I’m not telling you which ones I changed, but I’d love to hear your guesses in the comments!

Preoccupied, A List

1.I am planning some diet experimentation, which has me preoccupied. I will be blogging about it for next few weeks over here if you’re interested. If not, that’s cool too.

2.I have some Falkland top soaking, just waiting to be dyed. That’s where I am headed next.

3. I have a whole pile of stuff I need to take pictures of. The shop is sorely lacking and update, but I always seem to be busy when the darn sun is out.

4. It’s spring break. The kiddo isn’t here right now because it’s spring break, so it would be ther perfect opportunity to break out the camera, but it’s been snowing all day. What’s that about Kansas?

5. I want to wear dresses and go barefoot, I would certainly like it if the weather decided to cooperate.

6. In that same vein, I am knitting all very springy things. A sweater on large needles out of mohair laceweight, a pair of lacy socks and a lace scarf.

7. Normally, I am categorically against knitting scarves, but I really enjoy the rhythm of this motif. Pattern freebie to come I think.

8. I spent a very productive weekend cleaning, making kombucha and yogurt. I even planted some spinach and snap peas, will they grow despite the snow? Who knows, but I gave it a shot anyway.

Call Him Ishmael

minerva
Minerva says hey.

At the start of the New Year, I made a decision about my 2013 knitting. I wanted to knit as many sweaters as possible. I wanted to broaden my sweater construction technique. It only takes a quick look at my pattern page to notice that I am a top-down raglan sort of girl. Now, I love a top-down raglan. The math is relatively easy for this English major, the shoulders fit without too much trouble, and I don’t spend too days cursing at my darning needle trying to seam the damn thing. (I have nothing against seaming. I think it is amazing when done well–I just don’t do it enough to do it well, so I take it very seriously when I do it.) In my quest to learn different knitting techniques for sweaters, I decided that knitting a sweater per month sounded reasonable. I queued up a bunch of sweaters I thought I would like to knit this year, evaluated them all, and decided I could certainly knit one each in 30 days or so. (I may or may not have been crazy. You’ll notice, it’s well into March and this is the first time you, dear reader, are hearing anything of it.)

In January, I knit Abigal, which I still don’t have good pictures of. It’s a great, quick knit, for a fingering weight sweater. The weight is perfect, but it has this nasty habit of slipping off my slopy, round shoulders. I am wondering if blocking the collar out more would perhaps make it a bit more sturdy? (My other solution has to pin it in place at work with a brooch on one side and my name tag on the other.) You’ll notice the Abigail is a top-down raglan. But it was a quick knit and I got a deal on the yarn. Happy birthday me. I finished it early, so I decided to start on a new sweater for Brock since he’s wearing holes through the elbows of his Cobblestone every other week. Speaking of, if anyone has some brown, not to reddish suede I could use for elbow patches, I am in the market, as it were.

Having finished the Abigail cardigan early, I cast on for Ishmael Sweater in January and worked on it during the entire month of February. It took me until last night to finish it. Five days late isn’t anything, especially for such a large sweater.

brocks_ishmael_sweater

I don’t know how many of you have met Brock, but he’s not exactly small. 6’3″ and lanky as all get out.

my_ishmael_front
I added four inches to length all around.

my_ishmael_sleeve_detail
I also knit it a slightly tighter gauge than the pattern called for since he is firmly between sizes.

my_ishmael_back_detail
The back detail floors me. It’s such a lovely touch (even with my mis-crossed cable that yes, I noticed, but decided to hell with it, and moved on.)

I’ll tell you a secret about the yarn. I dyed it myself, of course, in a color to Brock’s specifications, but the yarn isn’t something I have ever worked with before. It’s plain old Lionbrand Fisherman’s Wool. Talk about a bargain. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how much I trusted this yarn, but I have to say I really enjoyed knitting with it–and doesn’t it dye superbly? Brock wears his sweaters hard, so I will keep you updated with how well it wears.

I just cast on for Tule which I fell in love with the second I laid my hands on the new Knitpicks catalog. (You’ll notice that while Tule is top-down, it is a round yoke pullover, and not a raglan like the last two, so I really am doing something new, I promise.) Something snapped and I ordered the Aloft yarn immediately. I am secretly hoping I have enough yarn left to knit a cute little cowl.

I have been harboring the desire to design a sock weight summer tee with puffed sleeves, which may or may not have anything to do with me having just reread Anne of Green Gables, but am too chicken to start it just yet.

Lost Productivity

February has been a rough month for me. Perhaps it is the natural melancholy that comes with the end of winter, a lack of Vitamin D, fresh greenery, tense muscles from hunching so repeatedly against the cold wind has wound me into a grumpy, brain dead sloth who has absolutely no desire to dye whatsoever.

I know, I know. I can’t be an indie yarn dyer when I am not dyeing yarn. It’s just not possible–and yet, I seem to have made it happen. I think I took the month of February off without meaning to. It happens occasionally. You get tired, your mind gets clouded with a sort of irrational fear that your going to mess something up if you proceed, so you just don’t do anything at. Well, maybe you don’t, but I tend to do that every now and again. Part of it is that my job takes a lot of my creative energy, and I am still working on how to balance that out with everything else.

And also. Winter. I am so sick of winter, I can’t even begin to explain how much I want to be able to not wear shoes outside. Is that too much to ask?

I know I have complained about it before, but my computer has been a gigantic hindrance. Not blogging, not updating my etsy page, all of that is because every time I try to work on my computer, I want to throw it across the room. Whatever problem it developed, it’s had it for a year, and it is only getting worse. It’s been looked at multiple times, and there’s still no real diagnostic reason as to why it shuts down whenever it wants to. I have reached my limit. I am tired of looking at my computer and deciding it’s just not worth the frustration to even turn it on, because honestly, I can’t run a business that is largely based on internet sales without a gorram working computer. Which is why I threw caution to the wind and ordered a new computer today. It should be here early next week and I couldn’t be more thrilled. I will do my best not to destroy this computer out of spite once the other one arrives, but I make no promises. (Of course, now that I have broken down and ordered another laptop, this one has been acting just fine so far today.)

I am hoping the excitement of ordering a new gadget shakes me out of my stupor a bit.

Dyeing hasn’t been the only thing I have been avoiding of course. My spinning wheel has been woefully neglected since I taught my spinning class, and the only thing I have started knitting that I haven’t ripped out is Brock’s sweater, which I still don’t have a picture of, even though it’s 95% finished. More than anything else, I have been hankering to do some academic work. I miss reading and writing and (dare I say it?) literary criticism(!). I started reading through The Madwoman in the Attic the other day just for the hell of it. It could be because I am listening to both Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights and reading Agnes Grey . I have plans to read all of my Bronte books again. (I have read all the books by the sisters and have shelf of criticism and biography on top of that.) I feel some-Bronte inspired works forming in me. Not sure whether they will manifest themselves through knitting patterns or yarn colors or fiction or essays just yet, but be on the lookout. Something is brewing.

I am hoping March will be a much more productive month than February.

28

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Today is the start of my New Year. Today is my birthday.

I am really excited for this year. I have plans. Big Plans. I am getting married. I am taking my first load of fiber to a mill. I am expanding my business. I am going to knit and spin a lot.

I haven’t really sorted out all of my goals and objectives into bullet points and lists yet, but don’t worry, I will. I love a good list. And bullet points. That’s a project that I am getting started today. Not that I haven’t been thinking about it non-stop for months, but today I am finally ready to sit down and start making a PLAN to do all the things. (After I eat a giant cheeseburger and gorge myself on brownies.)

I am ready for you, 28. Let’s go on an adventure.

Sunflower Skeletons on a Snowy Day

I am not a spectacular photographer by any means, but I work and live in a truly beautiful place. The Kansas Historical Society, location of my day job, is on the edge of town, and we are lucky enough to have prairie reserve as part of our property. We have hiking trails that wind through the prairie, sometime surrounding the hiker in grasses and sunflowers seven or eight feet high. It has taken me six months to remember to bring my camera to work and take some pictures during my lunch-break walk. But it’s good that I remembered today, because we are getting the perfect “White Christmas” snow right now. (It’s a week late, but I’ll take it.)

tallgrassprairie123112
Tallgrass Prairie. This photo was shot at my eye-level. I am 5’4″.

skeletonsinthesnow
In August, these were all sunflowers in full bloom. (And it was 110 degrees, so I was not outside much)

lastyearssunflowers
Sunflower skeletons covered in snow

lastyearssunflowers2

tallgrassschoolhouse
A wide view of the prairie and the old one-room schoolhouse.

Happy New Year everyone! I hope it’s a good start for you all.