Risky Business, Take 2

I opened a shop.

Online.

Selling stuff I make.

*faint*

*revive*

Because I love to make things.  And if I can make things and get paid for it (at least enough to cover the materials, a little for my time is a nice bonus) then all the better.  I've done this before, but then I quit.  Because Grad School.  Because Pregnant.  And because Follow Through.

But now I've done it again.  The stakes are a little higher this time, because the material is a bit more pricey.  I mean, I'm purchasing cow hide in bulk - not cheap.  SO ridiculously fun, and something I never saw myself doing, but more expensive than thrift store fabric.  A bit.

I had gotten some feedback from instagram and the like regarding my prototype, and it was all positive.  A few people even said "I want that!  I'd pay you to make me one."  But... I've had the shop open for 2 days and there's been no paying.  Few views, actually.  And while "since Wednesday" is not real long, it feels long when you're putting yourself out there.  And it feels like you've already failed when no on is biting.

How did I see this going in my dreams?  Well, I open up the shop, I add my products, complete with witty description, carefully edited photographs, and lots of angst, and BOOM!  Both purses are bought up, and then there's orders for 4 more.  And Oprah wants one.  That's pretty much how I saw it going.

And yes, that was ridiculously optimistic, but I'm a romantic - I imagine all outcomes will occur in the most fabulous way imaginable.  And its not.  But.  BUT.  I'm not done.  Because January is the month of riskiness, and this definitely qualifies.  I think, because myself and a whole bunch of blogger friends (they are friends, now, by this point in the journey) have been so decidedly open to risking things, and because we're willing to be rejected if that's what it takes, it wasn't such a hard choice to make, the decision to try-to-sell-my-precious-handiwork-online.  

I'm not going to lie, there's a part of me that wants to say "Ok, I tried, time to pack it up."  Because a  little rejection (I know, its only been two days, but SERIOUSLY!) stings and, were I more afraid of rejection than I am, I would do that; had I less support than I do, I would do that.  It would be easier.  I could brush it off and act like it ain't no thang - I didn't really want the hassle of an online shoppe anyhow...  But I do.  I think it will be fun.  I think I make a pretty bomb-phenom leather satchel.  I think I have more creativity in me, and there is more leathercrafting to be done.  

So I won't quit.  I'll keep risking.  I'll keep trying things and putting them out there.

But do this for me, okay?  First, don't make a pity-purchase.  C'mon.  I can handle this.  Second, if I make truly awful stuff, if it is nowhere near as chic and stylish as I think it is, if my mom is lying to me when she says "You could make it big, honey," then PLEASE, for the love of all the cows, tell me, okay?  Its not very friendly to tell someone who sounds like a sick cat that they have a beautiful voice - don't over-inflate my ego, just for kicks.  In this house, we praise actual accomplishments and there are no participation trophies.  hastag: that's how we roll.

<3  M.