:: leveling charges ::

holy crap, people. it's the last day of september.

and what a september it has been.

something tells me there will be a lot of reflection happening over the next few weeks (some here, some elsewhere around the interwebs), but today instead of reflection i thought i'd do a little responding instead.

responding to recent charges against me.

the two complaints-slash-charges-against-me that have been voiced most vociferously during this experiment have been these:

(1) this was not well thought out and

(2) my experiment devalues the work of OTHER stationers, takes customers from them, and hurts the industry

as to the first charge i say yup. you're totally right. it was designed (and by designed i suppose i mean intended) to let things happen naturally so i could see what would happen. i didn't want to direct it too much. i just wanted to put it out there and see what came of it. i mean, i took great pains to ensure that i communicated the spirit of the experiment and how i hoped people would respond, but i tried otherwise to just let it be. this is why it was only for a month, people! it was a one-month experiment that i hoped would give me enough to go on to try to figure out a realistic and sustainable way to integrate the spirit of the name-your-price concept into a real, living, breathing, tangible-goods business.

the second charge is harder to respond to. at first, i was really upset by this charge. i'm the one who - back when etsy still had something called "alchemy" where people could request that sellers bid on custom work and could list their desired price for said work - used to bid high and explain why so that the buyers would understand how much really goes into completing custom work. 

i'm the one who includes labor (but not design work - that i bill or contract for separately as appropriate) and paypal transaction fees in her break-even price and then adds in overhead and profit to calculate her wholesale prices (which are then doubled to calculate retail price). 

i'm the one who disliked doing branding work so much she doubled her hourly rate and then doubled it again and found herself loving it. 

i believe in profit. 

i go crazy when i see someone who is not charging enough to even cover her costs. (but, i reason, she'll learn. or she'll go out of business.)

but the more i think about this charge (and really, there are a few things being said here that i've kind of rolled into one), the more upset i get. first of all, please. let's not give me too much credit here, folks. i've had this awesome amazing turnout but really, it's still only 24* people. 24 people, 18 of whom told me that if they were going to DIY their invitations or buy them at target, costco, michaels, or other-big-box-place. two people sent me the designs they had already started working on themselves. one customer was going to get hers at minted. the others didn't say. so let's not get carried away thinking that i poached all of these customers from my artisan and indie friends and competitors because i really did not. the people this experiment appealed to were people who wanted to support an indie business and still work within their DIY budget. they weren't the people who were about to go put down $600 with one of my competitors until they saw a post somewhere about my experiment and realized they could get the same thing cheaper with me.

and as far as the industry? well honestly i'm not totally sure i care about whether or not i'm supposedly hurting the stationery industry. this little business of mine is about two things at its core: providing me a creative outlet (and my customers a creative high) and providing my family with enough money to pay $200K in student loans plus a mortgage and all those little things it takes to, you know, live? 

i mean really, who starts a paper goods biz saying, "wow, you know, i really want to support the greeting card industry and ensure that it maintains its integrity and fortitude." what wedding vendor is in business to keep the wedding industry strong and healthy. do those industries help support us and keep us alive as vendors? sure. but is it why we're doing what we're doing? come on. 

if my experiment makes my business stronger and my business is a paper goods or a wedding business, then my experiment strengthens those industries in its own way. and whatever industry assumptions it calls into question, well, good on it. would i love to think that my little self might help other little selves start to think outside the "here is how you run a stationery business" curriculum? yes I would. but do i think i'm going to bring down the industry or topple my competitors? i'm not that crazy.

i'd really love to go into a little comparison of my experiment versus the completely-accepted-industry-standard wholesale model, and in fact i plan on delving into that discussion in the coming weeks once i have a little time to put some data from the experiment together and sit it there alongside some data from my experience with wholesale so far. but from where i sit i'm seeing a lot of similarities: both depend on the idea that volume makes up for lower profit margin; both require significant "unbillable" work on the part of the business owner. the difference is in the experience (and cost) for the customer, it seems, and in the relationships formed or not formed between creator and user.

but that's a discussion for another day, i'm afraid.

stay tuned.

* 24 is a rough number. i have had 52 inquiries, i think, and 24 actual purchases (although i can't remember if i am counting two clients twice (each of whom made two orders)). this only includes name-your-price wedding customers, obviously, not other customers or clients brought on this month.

:: guest post time ::

i realize there are people who don't really want to hear other people lament about things they brought on themselves. i might even be one of those people.

but when people are introspective and reflective, even if what they're introspective and reflective about is a situation they brought on themselves, even asked for, i'm willing to listen.

if you'd like to listen, i wrote a guest post for the heartmade blog about this whole experiment thing. i've got a few more guest posts and interviews coming in the next few weeks, too, which i'll apprise you of as they come.

'kay? 'kay.

(p.s. the post on heartmade is a pretty good one, i think, and worth the read, i think.)

:: much obliged: a survey ::

stopping by the blog briefly to let you know that my survey is up -- even if you didn't partake in the september name-your-price experiment, i'd love your feedback on the whole thing.

it's short. and it includes a lameness/awesomeness scale. betcha haven't seen one of those recently. or ever.

find it here. much obliged. over and out.

:: survey says? ::

i had so many varying goals and hypotheses and ideas for this month's name-your-price experiment that honestly it's hard to even reach out into the air and grab just one. sometimes i think that my main goal was the dialog i knew it would generate. other times i think my main goal was to do something crazy enough that it just might be amazing. something crazy enough to counteract the $7-8K i dropped on a very mainstream business venture last may, perhaps. but underneath it all i think that part of me always thought of it as a very radical way to figure out my place in the wedding/design/purveyor of awesomeness world. 

they (who? business profs? internet gurus? just THEY?) say that you should price for the customer you want to have, and i see some sense in that. if i do really kick-ass work and i undercharge for it, then i'm going to be perceived as being cut-rate. lesser. maybe not so kick-ass. customers are going to see my stuff and see my prices and say, hmm. i wonder why it's so inexpensive…

but in a way i think i saw this month-long experiment as a way to say hey! i'm out here doing cool things and making cool designs and trying to change the way people think about the wedding industry and i'm doing it my way and i want to find the other people who are into cool things and changing the wedding industry and doing things their way.

and they're finding me, and they're showing me how they feel about weddings and what they can afford to pay for invitations, and i've got so much to think about. i've got so many questions.

and so i'm going to be putting together a little survey.

i'm usually way turned off by consumer surveys so i want to make this my own kind of survey. i want to use it to find out what you value, what you prioritize, what you like about up up creative, what you wish up up creative would give you that you're not getting anywhere else. i want to know what i can do to make you giddy. whether you care about paper and ink. whether you'd rather find something you've always been looking for or if you'd like to work with me to create it instead. i want to find out what cost-cutting measures you would think were awesome and what you would find pointless/lame/a compromise. i want to know what i can teach you and what you can teach me. i want to know if you're down with being part of a community or not.

i'm hoping all you wonderful blog readers will answer the questions, too. and if you'd like to, i'd love it if you'd contribute some possible questions in the comments.

:: experiment update ::

today was day 18 of the experiment and i have to say, despite a rough patch last weekend and into early this week (a rough patch that was resolved) and a flat crazy amount of email, and despite one night when i had decided to cancel the experiment after i found out i had caused a customer much strife when she thought that she was paying me too little, i'm glad i decided to take this on.

i've had a few detractors, and those detractors have added interesting things to the conversation for the most part. but i've had a lot of supporters, too, and i'm having such a nice time working with the people who have participated so far.

much to think about as september wraps up. much indeed.

:: the experiment in adjectives ::

we're at more or less the halfway point of my month-long experiment, and i'm at a point where i feel like the less i say about anything, the better (which as you know is so so so hard for me). so let me attempt a mid-experiment status update based only on the  adjectives that i've seen used to describe the experiment. accordingly, the experiment is (in alphabetical order):

amazing

bold

brave

charming (this may have referred specifically to the video, not the experiment. hard to tell.)

cleverly inventive

cool (also, really cool)

courageous

deluded

exciting

fabulous

fantastic

fascinating

great hard

honest

illogical

impractical

inane (as in empty, void, silly, lacking significance, lacking sense)

inapplicable to anyone

incredible

ineffective

inspiring

intriguing

mean-spirited

mind boggling

reckless

revolutionary

risky stupid

thought-provoking

thoughtful

tricky (as in designed to trick people)

unfair

i'm currently most worried about "reckless," "inane," and "unfair."

:: floored ::

the name your price orders are starting to come in. four yesterday, i think. several more earlier in the week. it's going well so far and the emails i'm getting are awesome. like, seriously awesome.

but last night i got my first really discouraging order and i'm just not even sure how i'm going to do it. the price the customer named is more than $1600 less than the usual retail price.

even if i only account for the cost of supplies and not any of my time (and since this project includes custom illustrations plus things like folded cards and strung gift tags, the amount of time we're talking about is really significant), i'm staring down the barrel of maybe a $600 loss.

i do not have an extra $600.

and i knew this was a possibility but i just didn't believe it would happen.

or maybe i thought that some of the other orders would make up for it - you know, kind of "give a penny take a penny" style. but honestly the other orders are all break-even propositions. they're certainly not making up for this crazy loss.

i'm not totally sure how to approach this. i guess i thought that any really low-ball prices would be SMALLER low-ball prices. I thought maybe someone would offer $20 for $200 worth of stuff. I expected my own out-of-pocket to be less. but $600? for just one order, supplies only?

i'm a bit floored. disoriented.

it's going to take me awhile to really comprehend this one.

:: mine all mine ::

sometimes things happen. and sometimes they weren't the things that were supposed to happen. but sometimes, even then, you're so glad.

a few weeks ago, back in early august i guess, it was looking like i was about to get a pretty serious slew of wholesale orders for my 2012 illustrated desk calendar. and i was excited and nervous. i had shops around the country telling me they wanted to order.

and then none. of the orders. came in. not one single order. not even the one from kate's paperie, which i'll admit, i was pretty excited about. and i followed up with everyone, and everyone told me not right now (for various reasons).

but the really surprising thing was that i was kind of relieved. in fact, i was actually glad. because pricing those puppies for wholesale was soul-sucking. pricing them to cover their costs and my time making them, and then knowing that i'd have to sell them in my shop for TWICE that in order not to undercut the stores that would be doing the same? it sucked. i hated it. i didn't even include any profit for myself beyond paying me for my time.

worse, i did not like their price, but i knew that the only way to reduce the price would be to print them in some crappier way or to outsource the printing altogether or to stop using the ridiculously awesome stands i had made for them from honest-to-god reclaimed-from-the-actual-sign-shop-garbage polystyrene by an excellent woman in baltimore.

and i liked those ideas even LESS than the idea of pricing high, so i priced high.

and when none of those wholesale orders came in, i did a little internal rejoicing. i somehow feel a bit like the calendars are mine again. having them out in shops means i can't change them or their price. it feels like not really owning them.

i'm surprised to feel that way, and not surprised at the same time.

but the best news of all is my news for you: my illustrated desk calendars just got a lot more affordable (and more profitable for me all at the same time!) for just the same exact amount of awesomeness. so yay for that.

:: as drawn in and through me ::

i drew this up quickly this morning, in a mad rush of gotta-get-this-down, and i'll grant that it's a bit hard to read and that the photo (iphone) is a bit blurred and dark, but i had to share it. it's my lightbulb-moment flash-of-genius understanding of my business. as drawn in and through me. click to see the image larger.

it's september, which for the eternal student here means it's time for reflecting on where i've been and where i'm going. and usually i sort of keep the reflection to the recent past -- no more than the last year -- but today i'm extra thinky about the further-back past.

this past year has been such a weird one. it was just about exactly this time last year that i found out i was going to be featured in brides magazine, and in the time since then i've done all kinds of stuff with an eye towards building my business.

i don't use a lot of capitals around here, not really sure why other than honest-to-god aesthetics, but that really ought to be capital-b building my capital-b-business, or at least that's how it has felt.

as i've suggested a bunch lately, it has felt a little bit wrong, the building.

and as a result of the wrong-feelingness, the growth of the biz has actually slowed.

which has me thinking about the beginning. the first decision to start up up creative, the first impulses that drove me, the first things i did, the first time i got awesome feedback, the first time i put something out into the word that i really loved and was excited to share.

here are the things i sold on my first day open for business. november 2, 2008.

and i was so so so beyond so excited. and now here i am. still creating other things that just make me want to put them out into the world. to get them into someone else's hands and then to hear their giddy exclamations.

that's the part i live for. it's the center of my business and the center of me.

for a creative biz with a name that isn't the artist's name (i.e. this business is called up up creative, not julie green), i'm discovering that this is a business that works best when i am true to the me-ness of it. when i make decisions driven by my gut. when i create things that make me feel so good and then i pass that good-feeling thing along to someone else to feel good.

i've spent a lot of time trying to come up with a manifesto of sorts. i've been craving a manifesto, actually, which is a big part of what drove the great name-your-price experiment (which is going well, by the way. go check it out). i've been trying to think about what i believe and what my business's core principles are.

and i always get stuck. i easily come up with my own core principles, but i always struggle to come up with my business's core principles.

because right? doesn't it seem like they're not really supposed to be the same? or at least that the business ones shouldn't be so, i don't know, personal?

but i don't know how to come up with principles that don't start from inside my own gut. all i really know is that i started this thing because i needed to make things and i needed those things to make me feel awesome and i needed them to make other people feel awesome. and sometimes i feel like doing one thing and sometimes i feel like doing something else. i am changeable. i like to try new things. i sold a quilt and two necklaces and a calendar on my first day in business forgodssake. i like to challenge the status quo and break the rules. i like to do things my way. if something isn't making me downright-dreadfully-happy (and here dreadfully is a good thing, i believe), i don't want to do it anymore.

which is kind of a weird way to run a business.

but so what. it's how i run mine. and business plans and industry conventions and shoulds be damned, it's how i'm going to keep running it.

so whaddaya think about that? (no, really. tell me. leave comments. email me. sky write a message. i want to hear from you today, please.)

:: self-diagnosis ::

i am impatient.
and easily confused.

pushed and pulled -- sometimes it seems -- rather than self-propelled. incapable of stillness. unable to wait. to decide. to sustain.

i am passionate and simultaneously dispassionate.

i am a fatalist and an optimist.

i am excited and disappointed in equal measure. i ebb. i flow. i ebb again.

i get uncomfortable if i start to feel too cliche. i want to make connections but i cringe when someone confesses to feel the ways i feel.

i believe that sharing is good because it connects us. i believe that we all feel the same ways. that we are all impatient and easily confused. that we are all searching, seeking beings.

but when you tell me you are a searching, seeking being, immediately i want to be something different.

in a way i am embarrassed for us in our sameness.

when you stand in front of me, mirrored, i want to love you and run from you at the same time. i want to hold your hand and say it's okay that you feel the way i feel. but i also want to stop feeling that way, sometimes just because someone else feels it, too.

it's possible that i want us to feel the same and be the same but i want to know that i somehow feel it more or better or differently.

perhaps the only thing i want more than connection is MEness.

separation.

at bedtime evan likes to come up with similes: i love you as high as the moon. i love you as much as i hate wearing bandaids.

last night at bedtime evan told me that he loves the three of us (daddy, emily, and me) "as much as i would love having the whole planet to myself."

i get that. i really do.

i want to follow the rules.
i want to write the rules.
i want to break the rules.

i want to be the exception to the rules.

this ego of mine? it's a force. it contends with gravity, pulling me centrifugally upward even as the center of the earth pulls me centripetally downward.

away from the center. toward the center.
exception. rule.
separation. connection.

:: hooray! my name-your-price wedding experiment is here! ::

it's here. september first. that means the name-your-price experiment officially launches today. 

i did a little sneak preview yesterday and the response was so wonderfully wonderful i don't even know what to say. the emails i got. the comments on the introductory post over at a practical wedding.

i woke up a few times in the night just from excitement.

i'm going to be doing some interviews and such throughout the month, getting out there talking about the experiment and the concepts behind it and all. i'll be sure to share those as they happen so you can keep up.

and if you'd like to read some awesome introductions, i'd recommend these:

intro at a practical wedding

intro at the thirty something bride

intro on my site, upupcreative.com

if you're an artist or designer or maker, i definitely recommend you read through the 60+ comments on the practical wedding post. really cool conversation going on, and seriously awesome points raised. the experiment could FLOP and i would already feel like i got so much out of it just from the comments on that post.

so enjoy. and please! participate in the experiment! whether you need wedding invitations or invitations for something else (birthday parties, holiday parties, baby showers, etc.), now's the time to pay what you can.