Another show this weekend has come and gone, and unfortunately, it was a bust. The highlight of the day was making returns at the mall for some online purchases—a practical reminder that sometimes online shopping can be a bust! Reflecting on the weekend, I realized I’d been merely going through the motions, showing up at these events without any genuine enthusiasm. Just the thought of the trip—the hotel stay, the drive in my gas-guzzling truck, the feeling that I needed more stock—left me dreading it.
In thinking back to my earlier successes, I remembered that my sales at this particular show had previously thrived due to the African baskets I brought along. This time, however, the event lacked everything it needed to succeed: too many vendors, hardly any attendees, and almost no signage to lead people in. It was clear this wasn't the blueprint for a well-run show.
So, I decided then and there that this was my last time participating in this event. Sure, it stung a little, but it also gave me something to look forward to—next weekend, when I have absolutely nothing scheduled. I’ll open up my store, restock with everything I’ve carried to these recent shows, and spend some time recalibrating. With my next show not until mid-November, I have a little breathing room to refocus on what truly matters.
This weekend also had me reflecting on my early days as a vendor, when the thrill was all about sourcing unique finds for my booth, and each event felt like a little adventure. But the landscape has shifted—Pinterest-inspired, cookie-cutter vendors have saturated the scene, and my heart just isn’t in it like it used to be.
Looking at my booth, it became clear it’s in need of a full overhaul. Yet, truthfully, I don’t have the energy for that right now. I’m leaning more toward service-based offerings and feeling drained by the repetition of these events. The overall vibe and even the patrons don’t align with me anymore.
This season, the Everett, Washington show stands out as the true highlight. With professional tents ready and waiting, a diverse group of artisans, and an organizer who knew how to create an experience, it resonated with me on every level.
As I contemplate the 2025 season, I find myself questioning whether I even want to continue with shows. If I do, I may focus on a few larger, monthly events and consider hiring someone to assist at the local farmer’s market. But I’m also open to the idea that these events may no longer be a part of my future.
Driving home, I was filled with thoughts and questions, but mostly a sense of confirmation. I know my craft well, and it's time to shift my focus toward the aspects of my business that genuinely ignite my passion—the “liberate” side of things: writing, journaling, expressive arts, and pop-up events. That’s where I feel alive.
And as a tip for anyone navigating their own journey, let’s make it a priority to be wise about where we invest our time and energy. Life’s too short to waste on information we already know or situations that no longer spark joy. This weekend may not have been financially successful, but it was eye-opening. I’ll take these insights with me, knowing they're nudging me toward the next chapter.
I love this. Being nudged in the right direction can throw us off balance. We humans do find comfort in repetition. But when the spirit force of creativity beckons, we will do well to listen. Good for you! No shame in recalibrating. 🩵