When I tell people about my craft business, the first question they always ask is, “You make money with…arts and crafts?” It’s surprising even to me, but the answer is yes. A bit of money, anyway. Toronto’s arts and crafts scene is a subset of the “everything local” sustainability movement of recent fame. Crafters, like organic vegetable gardeners, knitters, and homemade moonshine-makers, can be a little earnest, but we’re really making the world a better place. Grassroots production of useful and fanciful wares not only supplies consumers with creative stuff, but it builds community and provides modest earnings to a lot of people. Making arts and crafts for a living isn’t for the faint of heart, but if you love what you do and don’t mind putting in the extra hours, you too could build your own empire, even if it starts in your bedroom.
I’ve been crafty for as long as I can remember. No occasion or birthday passed without a one-of-a-kind handmade card, and school projects took on a whole new meaning when Bristol board was involved. My mother used to show off what I’d made and lament that I couldn’t make cards for a living—little did she know that not ten years later, I would do exactly that. The resurgence of homemade wares is fuelled by a group of like-minded young people who aim to take back the common objects of our lives from the uniformity of corporate production. Our handmade results aren’t necessarily as elegant as fine art, and they may not be as skilled as the work of professional artisans, but they’re still functional, creative, and local—and the demand is definitely there. When I discovered Etsy.com, my life changed for the better.
If you’re unfamiliar with Etsy, it’s a massive online marketplace for buying and selling all things handmade, vintage, or otherwise necessary to live a full and happy life (think eBay’s hippie nephew). Everything from Darth Vader tea-towels, to botanically inspired greeting cards, to handmade coffee mugs and a bewildering array of screen-printed clothing can be purchased, or better yet, bartered. Since joining Etsy, I’ve discovered lots of similar operations, like the Toronto-based iCraft.ca, or Europe’s DaWanda.com, where the majority of business is conducted in German. Nevertheless, it’s safe to say that my success (such as it is) was largely fueled by Etsy and the great people that use it. The online arts and crafts markets have enabled a lot of tiny cottage industries to come together into something resembling a powerful movement, with quantifiable economic value and a recognizable common ethic. The online community brings together craft makers located far from a large mass of local production. Etsy has seen huge growth since I joined a couple of years ago, and craft shows are gaining in popularity, even among people outside the scene. While makers of handmade stuff often share an anti-corporate ethic, the aesthetics of the wares are as varied as you can imagine.
The craft revolution doesn’t just exist on the Internet. There are more and more independently-run creative businesses popping up all across Canada and the United States. For first-hand evidence, take a stroll down Queen West and through Parkdale. There are entire stores full of handmade crafts, everything from 1-inch buttons to hand-sewn, found-fabric evening wear. There are co-ops, collectives, and more wholesale and consignment items in everyday stores than ever before. It’s a good time for us arts and crafters—local, handmade, environmentally sustainable wares are becoming increasingly popular, not just among students and artsy-types, but the nine-to-five set as well. Evidently, it seems people other than your garden-variety scenester want to move beyond the banalities of Hallmark cards and frightful mass-produced accessories.
To see into the heart of the community, one needs to go to a craft show. On any given weekend, obscure venues with very little advertising can entice hundreds of patrons out of their beds on a Sunday morning to mingle, shop, and amass gnome collectables. While you may not intend it, you will almost certainly leave with an armful of things you never knew you needed but suddenly can’t live without. As a vendor at such affairs, I’m hard-pressed not to spend all the money I make at other tables. Shopping at malls and supermarkets, it’s easy to forget that many of our neighbors and community members (if not ourselves) are full of creativity and innovation.
I can’t speak for others, but craft shows are my favourite part of what I do. Don’t get me wrong—I love everything from designing my buttons to licking the stamps I put on the envelopes—but there’s no replacement for the feeling of community and inclusiveness these shows promote. There aren’t many opportunities to meet other local artists in their natural habitat, and while I’m always eager to reconnect with old friends, I am constantly surprised by the number of new faces I see at every event as the community grows. It’s a great opportunity to meet customers and trade ideas.
My little operation, Consider Arson, has existed for a little over a year. It’s hard to believe that what started out of a shoe box has since conquered the vast majority of my apartment. In recent months I have expanded the scope of my operations to include over 60 different 1-inch button designs, and after experimenting with online advertising, I can barely meet the demands for large orders.
Making one-of-a-kind crafts is much more fun for the “scissors-and-glue” crafter in me, as customers walk away feeling like they have something special. Balancing the fun aspects of crafting and the business skills necessary to actually make the venture viable is an ongoing learning experience. But after the sticky fingers, innumerable trips to the post office, and supply anxieties are over, walking down Bloor Street and spotting one of my buttons on somebody’s lapel makes it all worthwhile.
You can begin your foray into the world of arts and crafts by checking out www.etsy.com. Rachel Dian’s work can be found at www.considerarson.etsy.com.
