I'm often asked, "Where did you come up with the name Tequila Diamonds?" It's my brand on Spoonflower.com and etsy.com and I'll admit, it's kind of a strange name. Here's the story:
In 2008 I was reading my horoscope (like you do) and they mentioned how scientists in Mexico had been able to create a diamond dust out of tequila. Not actual stones, mind, but a dust that can be used on tools for delicate surgeries. The scope then suggested that I take something and make something else out of it that was totally unexpected.
At the time I had been tossing around the idea of having a business upcycling thrift store items - taking something and making it new and useful again. Tequila Diamonds was "born".
However, I don't just do thrift store make overs. I make all kinds of stuff from old and new materials, but the idea is still there. My goal is to make things that are useful, beautiful and/or create as little waste as possible. When I make a quilt, for example, I try to use up as much of my fabric as I can. I rarely cut size-specific pieces for straight-seam blocks (ie. log cabin), I stitch all my strips together and whatever is left I set aside for the next project in which it might coordinate. This means I also do a fair amount of scrap work. Scrap work is actually my favorite. There are no rules, just sew and trim. They somehow look even better than the ones I plan out.
Another thing I try to do as much as I can is buy American made supplies. This isn't terribly easy, but I do what I can. Not only is it providing jobs for people here, it's also using the least amount of fuel to get the products to me.
I try to recycle as much as I can. Threads and scraps that are too small to sew become fire starters (balls of lint doused in wax to start campfires in the Summer). If I use glitter, I scoop up as much as I can and put it back in the jar. Unless I'm in a mood and decide I need a little pixie dust, in which case I toss it in the air and let it rain on me.
I buy an awful lot of my supplies at thrift stores. Fabric, yarn, thread, tools... all can be found at thrift stores. I bought a gallon baggie of zippers for a dollar. That's probably $50 worth of zippers. Thread can be dicey there, because cotton and silk can become brittle when they get old, but for basting, they're great. You're going to remove those stitches anyway. Then into the fireball jar!
Anyway, that's the story of my business and how it got its name. I'm working on inventory for my etsy shop (it's currently empty) and this Spring I'll be taking pictures of my Summer and Fall items. My Spoonflower shop is always open for business (www.spoonflower.com/tequila_diamonds). I know some people will look at the prices and think "Holy crow, that's expensive!" But they only print when something is ordered, and they only print the amount ordered. It's pretty slick. The fabric designers there range from total beginners to professional designers. I land somewhere on the high side of the middle.
My fabric designs are fairly unusual. Here again I try to take something ordinary (a medical slide, for example) and create an extraordinary design out of it. It's full of surprises. I have a few "normal" designs on there, but to be honest, they aren't the ones that sell. If you're looking for unique and unexpected, that's my style. I have a few new collections coming out this Spring and will, of course, post their release here.
Now I release you, my flowerpots! Go find your ECHT!
Showing posts with label diamond. Show all posts
Showing posts with label diamond. Show all posts
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Speaking of "Echt" - Special Mid-Week Edition
I was tidying up the display of objets d'art on my dresser when I noticed this:
I have a little German hat I picked up at a local thrift store. Lo and behold, there's the word "echt" on the label. It's a Genuine Bayerischer Velour Hat! I sometimes wish I was the kind of person who believed in omens and such. This would've been a doozy!
Another project I've been working on (besides the peacock throw in the previous post) is a quilt for my high school friend, Rachel. It started out as a personal project to use up some fabric scraps, but when I posted picks of my progress, she made an offer. I had no intention of selling it originally, though I'd never turn down an offer. I was just trying to use up my stash and try a block method (with diamond-shaped pieces) I'd never tried before. Now that I've done it, I don't know if I'll ever do it again, and if I do, I now know how to fix the things that drove me nuts and how better to cut and sew. Making it however, was strictly seat-o-my-pants style. I really didn't know how it'd turn out. I went blindly forth, hoping that what resulted was good enough. It's also one of only two queen-sized pieces I've ever done. I wasn't sure I'd have enough fabric, but I was fortunate that I had gotten in on a super sale a couple of years ago and bought a whole lot of a few prints. I was also fortunate that Rachel loved it.
It's totally improvised, totally echt. I'm reading Jane Lynch's memoire, "Happy Accidents", and that's what I have entitled this piece. It may have humble beginnings as a stash buster, but through a series of happy accidents, it's my first sale! What better inspiration?
People also started asking about the peacock quilt. Was it for sale? How much? When I stated the price, all three offers fell through. I was thinking, "Gee. Did I put too high a price on this?" Then I got nervous. My hands carped up a little (the conversion disorder manifestation) and I couldn't sleep. I've always wanted to sell my work, but I've always been afraid to put a price on my work. This is primarily because I don't typically use patterns. Even when I've done costume design, my renderings (sketches) are more of a guideline than an accurate depiction of what is actually created. I'll go off on a tangent and come up with something different, usually better than what started out.
So, I know I'm not perfect, I enjoy (and make no apologies for) being echt, but how does that translate to value? Good gravy. Like many artists, I tend to undervalue my work and myself. Partly I think this happens because I know majority of my friends aren't made of money. We're all 99%ers. Not that my price was that outrageous. I looked at etsy sites to see comparable items, I based it on that and when I suggested the price to Rachel, she counter-offered...with more. In fact, she offered what I proposed for the peacock quilt. My head is spinning just thinking about it.
Why do artists undervalue themselves? I'm sure at least a little bit is due to low self-esteem. That seems to be the bane of the artist's existence. We also may not keep track of how many hours we're actually putting into a project, so we guesstimate. For me, recording time would be nearly impossible because I generally have my two kids vying for my attention while I'm working. This is getting easier as they get older, but they still want to show me what they've drawn or I need to break up an argument.
As a craftsperson, it's perhaps even harder to price things because what you're making is not only artistic but is utilitarian in nature. It needs to be quality to stand up to use, it should be beautiful, and should be affordable. Why should someone pay $600 for my lovingly made quilt when they can go to Wal-Mart and get a comforter and complete sheet set for $40? You can only make so many gifts for people before you start thinking, "I should make some money for this." Especially if you want it to become your sole source of income.
Firstly, if you purchase something handmade, you will very likely be the only person in the world who's got it. I don't know a whole lot of artists who make the same thing over and over. Some do. They figure out what people seem to like and make a bunch. My dad was an artist with a pencil and a paintbrush. There are originals of his work all across the country. There are also prints of his work, though they are actually rarer than the real thing.
Secondly, artists are trained. They may not have a degree, but they've taken classes, read books, made more than a few failed attempts at something (we all have our share of UFOs - Un Finished Objects - laying around). That's still an education, even if we didn't pay for it (and believe me, in some way, we paid for it!)
Thirdly, we create because we must. If we don't, we don't breathe correctly. We get cranky and depressed. We have nervous breakdowns and develop conversion disorder. Well, maybe not that last bit. That's probably just me. Creating stuff is just who we are. Sometimes artists have other things they can do, like be a dentist or accountant. I'm not one of those people. If I'm not creating, wether a character in a play or a piece of artwork, I'm not living. We should be able to make a living with that which makes us alive.
The ball is in the buyer's court, however. I've found that, unless a piece has a "firm" price, negotiations aren't out of the question, but don't insult the artist, value them. Some artists are willing to barter/trade for services or goods, too, myself included, as long as they are of equal value. Of course, that's between the artist and the consumer, but it can be done.
For example, another friend of mine would've liked the peacock quilt, but she can't afford the tag. What we're going to do instead is, she'll purchase the fabric from my Spoonflower designs and I'll help her with the layout and piecing of her own quilt. (spoonflower.com/tequila_diamonds by the way) When she purchases from my designs, I get credit toward my own purchase, which I'll probably use for samples of my latest designs. Once I've approved them, I can put them up for sale.
So the next time you're walking through the mall and there's a craft show going on, don't automatically dismiss the artist's prices. Talk to them, get to know them, find out if they negotiate. If you really love a piece, it should be worth it to you and it should show that you value the person who created it as well. Something can always be worked out.
 |
| Use Echt in a sentence! |
Another project I've been working on (besides the peacock throw in the previous post) is a quilt for my high school friend, Rachel. It started out as a personal project to use up some fabric scraps, but when I posted picks of my progress, she made an offer. I had no intention of selling it originally, though I'd never turn down an offer. I was just trying to use up my stash and try a block method (with diamond-shaped pieces) I'd never tried before. Now that I've done it, I don't know if I'll ever do it again, and if I do, I now know how to fix the things that drove me nuts and how better to cut and sew. Making it however, was strictly seat-o-my-pants style. I really didn't know how it'd turn out. I went blindly forth, hoping that what resulted was good enough. It's also one of only two queen-sized pieces I've ever done. I wasn't sure I'd have enough fabric, but I was fortunate that I had gotten in on a super sale a couple of years ago and bought a whole lot of a few prints. I was also fortunate that Rachel loved it.
 |
| Rachel's quilt in our high school colors. |
People also started asking about the peacock quilt. Was it for sale? How much? When I stated the price, all three offers fell through. I was thinking, "Gee. Did I put too high a price on this?" Then I got nervous. My hands carped up a little (the conversion disorder manifestation) and I couldn't sleep. I've always wanted to sell my work, but I've always been afraid to put a price on my work. This is primarily because I don't typically use patterns. Even when I've done costume design, my renderings (sketches) are more of a guideline than an accurate depiction of what is actually created. I'll go off on a tangent and come up with something different, usually better than what started out.
So, I know I'm not perfect, I enjoy (and make no apologies for) being echt, but how does that translate to value? Good gravy. Like many artists, I tend to undervalue my work and myself. Partly I think this happens because I know majority of my friends aren't made of money. We're all 99%ers. Not that my price was that outrageous. I looked at etsy sites to see comparable items, I based it on that and when I suggested the price to Rachel, she counter-offered...with more. In fact, she offered what I proposed for the peacock quilt. My head is spinning just thinking about it.
Why do artists undervalue themselves? I'm sure at least a little bit is due to low self-esteem. That seems to be the bane of the artist's existence. We also may not keep track of how many hours we're actually putting into a project, so we guesstimate. For me, recording time would be nearly impossible because I generally have my two kids vying for my attention while I'm working. This is getting easier as they get older, but they still want to show me what they've drawn or I need to break up an argument.
As a craftsperson, it's perhaps even harder to price things because what you're making is not only artistic but is utilitarian in nature. It needs to be quality to stand up to use, it should be beautiful, and should be affordable. Why should someone pay $600 for my lovingly made quilt when they can go to Wal-Mart and get a comforter and complete sheet set for $40? You can only make so many gifts for people before you start thinking, "I should make some money for this." Especially if you want it to become your sole source of income.
Firstly, if you purchase something handmade, you will very likely be the only person in the world who's got it. I don't know a whole lot of artists who make the same thing over and over. Some do. They figure out what people seem to like and make a bunch. My dad was an artist with a pencil and a paintbrush. There are originals of his work all across the country. There are also prints of his work, though they are actually rarer than the real thing.
Secondly, artists are trained. They may not have a degree, but they've taken classes, read books, made more than a few failed attempts at something (we all have our share of UFOs - Un Finished Objects - laying around). That's still an education, even if we didn't pay for it (and believe me, in some way, we paid for it!)
Thirdly, we create because we must. If we don't, we don't breathe correctly. We get cranky and depressed. We have nervous breakdowns and develop conversion disorder. Well, maybe not that last bit. That's probably just me. Creating stuff is just who we are. Sometimes artists have other things they can do, like be a dentist or accountant. I'm not one of those people. If I'm not creating, wether a character in a play or a piece of artwork, I'm not living. We should be able to make a living with that which makes us alive.
The ball is in the buyer's court, however. I've found that, unless a piece has a "firm" price, negotiations aren't out of the question, but don't insult the artist, value them. Some artists are willing to barter/trade for services or goods, too, myself included, as long as they are of equal value. Of course, that's between the artist and the consumer, but it can be done.
For example, another friend of mine would've liked the peacock quilt, but she can't afford the tag. What we're going to do instead is, she'll purchase the fabric from my Spoonflower designs and I'll help her with the layout and piecing of her own quilt. (spoonflower.com/tequila_diamonds by the way) When she purchases from my designs, I get credit toward my own purchase, which I'll probably use for samples of my latest designs. Once I've approved them, I can put them up for sale.
So the next time you're walking through the mall and there's a craft show going on, don't automatically dismiss the artist's prices. Talk to them, get to know them, find out if they negotiate. If you really love a piece, it should be worth it to you and it should show that you value the person who created it as well. Something can always be worked out.
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