Boutique Items--What Makes them Different

Today I was gathering some items I had recently sold so they could be shipped out to their buyer's destinations.  I'm quite proud that I've made some international sales---one of these was going to Australia---and at the same time shocked and surprised that international sales are as common as they are nowadays...  I'm a member of the last generation that can remember life without the internet, and computers.  I remember my college professors excluding "dot matrix" printers as acceptable printing options.  I remember signing into my university's computer lab to use the Apple IIe, and bringing floppy disks with me...  Ah, the good old days.  I guess international shipping is just a sign of the times, eh?  The world is getting smaller all the time.

But as I was thinking that, my brain skipped to a stream-of-consciousness thought and pondered if people in different parts of the world were making what I was making.  I wondered if there was someone out there manufacturing ruffs and doing what I do by machine instead of by hand.  I wondered if I could justify what I was charging, because my next thought was imagining a customer criticizing my prices and saying, "Why should I pay this much when I can get it from China a lot cheaper?"

And that prompted me to come in and type this blog post.

You see, there are LOTS of reasons why I charge the prices I do.  And for all those boutique/art fair participants who might have shared this same train of thought as I have, this is for you, too.

First off, most items in art fairs, shows, and boutiques are just that:  boutique items or art.  These things aren't what a manufacturer is even interested in making---the profit margins are commonly too low.  Manufacturing is about making large quantities of identical items, creating an assembly line process that makes the making cost effective.  Most boutique and art fair items are generally created in such limited quantities, no manufacturer is going to bother spending the money creating the set up and buying the small amount of materials for such a small return on investment.  It just isn't practical.  My pieces are all made one at a time.  And none of them are exactly the same.

Secondly, most boutique items or fair items are generally made by hand or at least require so much human input in the process of creating that machine manufacturing it is impractical.  The human interaction factor is too high, and thus it costs too much to make en masse.  If it's art, it's obvious the art can't be made without the individual artist's hand or vision.  Now some would argue that non-American workers will work for less, and thus lower the cost of the product.  Well, that idea worked for a while as manufacturing fled overseas away from the US to cheaper production markets.  But now that plan has impacted our local economies to such a degree that more and more Americans are less interested in supporting foreign manufacturing...  Many people that I know are drawing an imaginary line in the sand and are willing to pay extra for products with local affinities.  The thought being that everything is unaffordable anyway, so what's the difference?  If you're going to spend you're money, spend it where it has the most impact on your community and pay the local workers and artisans first.  All my pieces are made by me, by hand, in my studio here in San Diego.  Where I use the money I'm paid for my pieces to buy groceries and support local businesses.

Third, most items sold at fairs or in boutiques usually have a story behind them.  Manufactured items generally do not.  In fact, most manufactured items strive to rise above their origins of mass production, sometimes downplaying it and seeking a sense of individuality and uniqueness that simply isn't truly possible.  The mass market is collapsing in certain areas as it becomes overtly obvious no one is really interested in owning exactly what everyone else has.  If you're making 10,000 of the same thing, how original and unique is it?  And why would someone want to pay a boutique price for it?  I make my pieces for customers that don't want to look like everyone else, who value individual and dramatic appearance so they can stand out in a crowd.

Fourth, the specialty items at art fairs and in boutiques are sometimes made of materials that aren't optimal for manufacturing.  Either the materials are too expensive (making the profit margin decrease to unacceptable levels) or they are too personal (vintage family fabrics, backyard views, local supply chains) or they are too unique (ruffs made out of scrap silk upholstery fabric, for example).  Manufacturing can replicate the effect, but not the integrity or authenticity of their base ingredients.  The materials themselves can be as important as the resulting art pieces.  No one can make the neckwear I make with my great-grandmother's hand painted porcelain pieces.  No one can exactly replicate my hand painted garments with the quality of my lines.  And while it's possible to replicate some of the things I make...  Well, honestly.  Would you bother?  Really?  Truly?  Without any creative input of your own?

Fifth, and finally, boutique items are not made to compete with mass-produced items.  They are in a class by themselves.  To explain this, let me tell you a history:  I once heard about two schools of thought in the beginning of car manufacturing.  American car manufacturers carefully doled out new developments in car technology, exploiting each new discovery for maximum profit, and building cars at as low a quality as they could get away with, knowing that eventually it would wear out and a new car would be purchased.  Built-in obsolescence.  European car manufacturers, in contrast, built a product and sold it for what it was:  the best they could make for the price.  And thus, most high-end luxury cars were European for many years.  Quality over quantity.  Likewise, a boutique item is usually not created to be as cheaply assembled as possible---it can't be, as manufacturing in bulk is the only way to truly accomplish that.  Instead, I would venture to say that true boutique items are made to the best of their ability for the price.  But that may be just a philosophy of my own that I'm "imposing" on others...  :)

So I'm not going to feel guilty about why I charge what I do.  I'm not going to feel weird about making stuff that's so unique it's a novelty.  I'm not going to stop moving forward in my efforts to create beautiful one-of-a-kind pieces that I know someday someone will figure out how to manufactur.  Because what I'm making is only part of what I'm selling.  And the same holds true for all you art fair artisans out there, and all those looking for that special boutique to sell your wares in (like me!).

And if I'm ever asked, "Why should I pay this much when I could get it from China a lot cheaper?", I'll simply tell them in return, "Go ahead.  Good luck with that!"

Anyway, food for chain-of-thought.

Live Life with Relish!

Living with Wearable Art

I subscribe to a lot of blogs, but only a few of them are by local people here in San Diego, or people that I know personally.  I don't know why, I just don't know a lot of people that are into blogging...  I can't say it's impacted my life much---with the internet it doesn't really matter if you're local or not.  You can read about the trials and tribulations of people on the other side of the world!

But this one artist here in San Diego posted a series of articles on his blog about his personal art collection, and how it's displayed in his home.  His name is John Purlia, and he's a photographer.  But he has a substantial collection of a variety of different art pieces that he has hung in different rooms in his house. His collection really reflects his personality and interests, and it's absolutely gorgeous!   He even shares images of his collection on his website.

John takes us on a tour of his residence through a multi-day series of posts with photographs of his walls and interiors, with interesting stories of his collection.

And that got me thinking of others that I've known who own art pieces, and how they display it.  I had a landlord that bought art not because it would work with some "interior design" he was trying to accomplish but simply because the work intrigued him and he liked to look at it.  I think, bottom line, that a collector has to feel some sort of connection to a piece if they're going to display it in their home--otherwise they might as well seal it in a packing crate and put it in storage to try and collect value over time...  Art is, I think, meant to be enjoyed and seen.

It also got me thinking about the famous artist, Fred Babb, who created a painting that said, "Good Art Won't Match Your Sofa".

But this train of thought ultimately led me to contemplate the role of Wearable Art in our lives.  Because of our cultural milieu, art that is wearable isn't often considered in the same "category" as Fine Art (or that which can be defined as a sculpture or painting or some other piece with no other purpose but to be Art).  Because wearable art has a functional side as well as an artistic side, it is somehow considered less "pure" by most critics in the western art world--it's very utilitarianism defeats it's attempts to be artistic.  Because it's sometimes not considered as artistic as a painting, it's not held in the high regard that Fine Art might be, and is less sought after as collectors items.  Being less easy to define,  we don't recognize as much Wearable Art in our lives.

Fashion is collectable in part because of it's construction, but also because it was designed by a famous brand well known for accomplishment in the fashion world.  The pieces aren't necessarily collected for their aesthetics, but for their originating designer names.  I'm over-simplifying, of course, and shouldn't generalize everything into one lump.  There are exceptions.

But can the argument be made that Wearable Art probably wouldn't have the caché that something like Fine Art would have if displayed in one's living room?  I can't recall anyone in my life that actually displays, on a mannequin, any of their wearable art collection in their home.  It often lives in a closet if they even own any pieces.  We have hundreds of thousands of framing stores all across the country, but where are the commensurate stores for dress form displays for one's home?  Do we, as a culture, put any emphasis on displaying our wearable art collection like we do our collections of knickknacks, chotchkies, china plates, or wall hangings?

There is one significant distinction between Fine Art and Wearable Art:  Wearable Art is portable.  It goes with you.  You literally bring your collection of favorites to wherever your destination is instead of inviting others to your home where it is displayed.  In some respects, your body is the museum.  It is an opportunity to be a walking gallery.  It is a moveable collection.

So my question for you is:  Do you use your body for display of your favorite pieces?  Do you share with others your collection?  How do you display it?

And as an artist, do you embrace the opportunities you have to share your work by wearing it?  Do you take the chance to become your own gallery?  If you are embarrassed to wear your own work, how can you expect others to not be embarrassed to wear it when they buy it from you?

Food for thought.  Live Life with Relish!

The Temptation of Making Jewelry

Oh, dear, jewelry is SO tempting to make...  Depending on what you're making and out of what, jewelry can be an intensely satisfying crafting experience.  For most people, it doesn't take up too much room, and because of it's popularity there is a plethora of supplies available in a variety of stores and websites.  It's fun, you have a feeling of accomplishment, and in comparison to a lot of other skills there isn't a huge learning curve to follow.

At least, depending on the materials you're using to make your jewelry.  Some jewelry is made out of incredibly delicate stuff, and other jewelry requires hammers and pressurized vacuum containers to make...  The vast array of different kinds of jewelry means there's just as many different items to use when assembling it.  And there's a huge width and breadth of skill level depending on the materials you choose to use.  Metal-smithing, glass blowing, resin pouring, knot work, wire work, needle felting...  The world's your oyster when it comes to jewelry.

The upshot is that because there are so many in-roads to make something beautiful, there's a huge temptation to apply one's own skills to jewelry-making.  It's almost too easy to take a skill that might be seemingly unrelated to "crafting" and somehow correlate it back to the jewelry making craze...  Let's say you're a Sanitation Engineer---a trash picker-upper-person.  All you need is some super strong adhesive and a mechanism to hold something on one's body and you could make some killer assemblage jewelry pieces out of other people's throwaway junk.  Or let's say you're an Office Assistant, or a Secretary.  Got dead documents that are shredded?  Woven paper chain jewelry here you come.  Or dead office supplies?  Sometimes those springs inside pens can be manipulated into some interesting looks...

Of course, it's a whole different skill to recognize what might be possible and creatively explore it. That kind of person isn't so common...

But almost anything can be jewelry.  And sometimes, part of the magic is making something out of completely unexpected materials.

So that's what I tried...  I took some pages from some old rotting encyclopedias that were given to me, some old maps that no longer served their purposes, and some spare lace hanging around my work space.  And I dipped it all in resin.

Resin is interesting stuff.  I don't know that much about it, but it's effects can be really cool if you play around a little.  For example, when it's painted on certain kinds of paper, the paper becomes somewhat translucent.  When painted on craft paper, the paper takes on an "oilpaper" kind of quality and allows the transmission of a bit of light through it's surface.  When mixed with a bit of color and painted onto old maps, that particular paper become stiff and sturdy, almost like cellophane filmstrips.

With a couple layers of thickness, the resin coated paper is sturdy enough to use for all kinds of things, including jewelry.

And when lace is dipped in resin, and then dries flat on a teflon mat, it becomes hard.  No droopy lace jewelry from me!  These earrings ended up quite sturdy.  I was surprised--it darkened and gave the lace a bit of maturity that made it seem less flashy and cheap.

Anyway, I thought I might share my new little experiments in jewelry making...  Not that I am going to go down that road--as tempting as it is!!  While it's fun to make, I'm going to leave jewelry to those with more experience making and selling it and limit myself to just "dipping my feet" in it once in a while...  I'll be concentrating my efforts on trying to whittle down my ever growing fabric stash...

These pieces will be up in my Etsy store in over the next couple of days.  Check 'em out if your interested!

Until next time!  Live Life with Relish!

For Those Sci-Fi Medical People

I was commissioned by a friend of mine to make him some scrubs.  He works in a facility where they have to wear scrubs to work, and he wanted something fun and unusual.

He wanted scrubs inspired by Star Trek uniforms.

So I went and bought a scrubs pattern and set to work altering it to make it more "Star Trek-esque".


Now, the uniforms on the television show and the uniforms of contemporary medical personel are NOT similar.  For example, the television show's costumes actually have sleeves.  With armscyes.  And shoulder pads.  And the design for those uniform costumes actually sort of hinges on those armscyes to work--you kinda need an actual sleeve for the costume to look to be effective...


But scrubs don't have sleeves.  So I had to modify and piece the pattern to make it look like there was some sort of underarm seem were there really isn't any...  I'm hoping that when it actually gets put on, it'll behave in such a way that it will look like there's some sort of sleeve "effect" going on even though there really isn't a real one there...


Anyway, it's done!  Who knew it would be so hard to find actual "scrubs" fabric?  I had to substitute a cotton-poly blend broadcloth for what I was looking for...  I wanted something with a tighter weave or perhaps a bit of nylon in the fabric, but I guess that was too much to hope for in my little neck of the woods.  I think the broadcloth will work, but I fear it will shrink.  And scrubs seem to be a bit more durable.  We'll see what happens once he's worn them a couple times.

A LOT of piece-work went into this--all told the front alone has 6 pieces, only two of which could be cut out simultaneously.  Everything is asymmetrical.  And the backs are different from the fronts.  So it's a bit time consuming cutting practically every piece individually...

And because it was pieced, I had to overlock all the internal edges and then top stitch them down so it would behave nicely when laundered.  The pieces had to be assembled in a specific order so the overlocking could be done easily without fighting the other seams.

But it's done!  It may prove to be a pricey little addition to my repertoire of costuming skills for anyone who might want a commissioned piece, but at least I have a pattern now so I don't have to think through that part of the process...  I think I may go back and do some tweaking on it.  I think there's too much curve in the black piece that goes across the shoulders--it needs to be more horizontal and straight across the body.  But that's for another day.

Ah, the life of a costumer/wearable art maker!  Woohoo!!


Live Life with Relish!!

What Are You Curious About?

I was listening to a podcast that I subscribe to, Notes from the Voodoo Lounge, which features interviews with a lot of the leading crafters, artists, and creative people of the world.  It's a great podcast that I thoroughly enjoy and highly recommend.

One of the guests on the podcast was asked a question by the host, and it made me sit up and take notice because I'd never thought of it before.  "What makes you curious?  What would you research and explore if you had the chance?"

I'd never thought of that before.  I've always, for some reason, linked all my interests around my job...  Rather like concentric circles expanding in a pool of water, my interests always seemed to have an origin point that roughly focused around what was useful in my career.  Almost everything that I have pursued out of my own curiosity has been prompted by the needs of what I was doing at the time.  It may have been only loosely related (for example, some of the blogs that I read are about quilting, which is not something that I plan on doing right now as it's labor intensive and I need to put my efforts into other things), or my curiosities may have something to do with a movie or something I read in a bathroom reader or a snippet from a news service...  But by-and-large, anything "major" that I have tried to explore has been related to or directly influenced by my work.

Has anyone else discovered this about themselves?  I've realized that some people start to explore their interests and hobbies after they retire, but some also dive into formal modes of education earlier in their lives to provide structure to their interests--college, vocational schools, etc.  I think I took the structured route, but realize now that I took courses to "flesh out" my main area of discipline--relating everything back to my central focus.

It's interesting.  If posed the question of "what makes me curious", would you choose to study different things now than you might have in the past?  Would you need a formal structure to approach your investigations?

And by extension, does the desire to explore new things influence our ability to create new things?  As the saying goes, "garbage in, garbage out"...  Well, does that extend to art?  If we stop being curious, will our art reflect a lack of anything new, different, or unusual?  Will we stop creating new things, and simply design endless variations on the same theme?  Well, new to us as creators, anyway...

Is curiosity a necessary component of creativity?  Real, honest to goodness curiosity, not just the "collecting pictures for inspiration" kind?  Curiosity with depth, beyond "I wonder what's hot right now"?  Curiosity that leads us to ask questions about ourselves and in turn prompts us to create things we might not have created before, if we had played it safe?

Things to ponder.  Things to wonder about.  : )

Live Life with Relish!