Store Rants

“imitation is the sincerest form of flattery”…

Sure.

When I opened my store, there were a few people who were miffed at me.

Two of my old bosses, for starters. They owned gift shops and I worked for them. One for 5 years, one for one year. I learned a few things about running a retail store from them. Namely… balloons are a must on open house days and remove the “Made in China” stickers, if you can.

I also learned a whole lot about what not to do. But 90% of it… I learned on my own through lots of (fun) blood, sweat and tears. (Have I mentioned that owning and running your own cutesy store is HARD???)

I guess I’m very grateful for these two individuals when it comes to how I ran my store. Perhaps I didn’t thank them enough because both of them never stepped foot in my store and when I saw them, they were rude to me. Years of service to them, I succeed out on my own… they stop talking to me. Nice! (Oh, and another thing… I find that this industry is a tad cut-throat and nobody wants to share secrets).

I’m getting to the reason for this post in a minute, I swear.

I’ve had several, if not dozens, of the items I’ve created and sold copied. Blatantly. By people I like, too. I was okay with it.

One woman purchased some of my handmade silver charms (cost me $1200 to make… lost wax casting with a fimo original etc etc) and had them made in CHINA. That stung.

One lady took my LOGO, erased my business name and added her name and marketed it as her own design.

I got over it.

Okay… so the fact that my friend who helped me at the store occasionally is opening her own store in a month… I’m angry, or jealous… or ????

She learned about all my vendors, where to get the best merchandise, where I got my insurance…. almost a decade of research on my part… she gets to benefit from for free. I kind of wish I wouldn’t have included her on so many decisions.

There are other details I won’t go into, but… I feel like an immature baby about this. Every time I get another email asking about my trade secrets, I want to scream.

This entire rant makes me look like an a-hole… lol.

She did send me a lovely note saying that my store gave her purpose and was the only thing that made her happy in a dark part of her life. It made me cry. So, I guess I get it. But… I’m still grumpy about it.

Maybe this is why I’m crazy… once, my Mom accused me that I should give her all the credit for all of my past, current or future successes because I got the talent from her… gene-speaking. I wonder if they could graph out my DNA and I could give her and my father each a percentage based on my income for the year?

Pffft.

I’m a sitting duck. Part 2.

I’ve made some “friends” while at the store. They think we can collaborate and be perfect chums. There is a certain “friend” who keeps pressuring me to do some design work for her really cheap. She makes dolls. I hate dolls. Even really pretty delicate dolls. They freak me out. I don’t own one. (okay, I lie… I still have a cabbage patch kid somewhere). But, they creep me out. I will not sell them in my store, and I obviously do not want to do art based on said dolls. I think the doll thing goes back to a combination of three movies/TV shows: Poltergeist, assorted Twilight Zones and the Melting Man showcased on Elvira.

Since opening the store, I’m learning how to set up boundaries. I’ve never really had them before, and “no” was rarely in my vocabulary. But after getting burned too many times, I’m learning that enough is enough and my time… it is actually valuable.

I’ve been setting up boundaries left and right. I can only help you on tuesday, don’t call me on sunday… working with who I want to work with and when. No consignment, no buying anyone’s crap anymore, even well-priced crap unless I love it to death. It’s been fantastic.

While at the store, having a glorious day, a family member marches in and reminds me that I must attend thanksgiving this year because I didn’t go last year. What will actually happen if I don’t show up? I’m really bored with these false emergencies.

If you own a holiday-centric business, you must remind everyone you are surrounded by that if they have time off on their little calendar, chances are, you do not. They will continue to try to twist your arm during these times. Make sure to stand your ground.

Thanksgiving week is by FAR our busiest week AND it’s my very very very last day off for 30 days. I don’t wanna do nothing. I’ll come to work on thanksgiving day, clean up, set stuff up… say a prayer and go home and sleep aaallll dayyyy long. That’s become my ritual. Can someone explain why “the holidays” coincide with “Obligations”? Obligated to get presents, obligated to cool, obligated to hang out with your family, obligated to pretend you like them. The obligations… the guilt. And if I do grow a backbone and keep my own schedule, one or more family team members show up at the shop to put me in my place. The relentless cornering at the store. Like a caged animal. Everyone knows that when I’m in my store I can’t yell, use obscenities or throw things. I *love* to throw things… usually towards the head of those who oppose me. (Ooh, I’m having domestic violence lust). Again, this goes back to boundaries. I need strong great-wall-of-china like boundaries. I’ll put a few bricks down now. If you think you want a store, dear reader, I suggest you write down who would come bother you at your store and how you will displace your anger when they won’t leave. (And really, I’m not violent… nor do I really have a temper. Unless you are one of two people and to you I say… “duck”.)

When cornering you physically at the store didn’t work, one family member resorted to shock and horror via the phone.

me: me
OL: the old lady (family member)

calls me at work…
OL: are you with a customer?
me: no, but I’m busy
OL: well, you aren’t busy then… I was at a restaurant and saw this dog. (she loves dogs, gets irritated that I don’t bring mine to see her) her name is “Mary” (which happens to be my name, so she repeats it). Mary came over and I made love to her all afternoon. I pet her and…
me: what??
OL: (sounding like she’s reading from a script) I made love to Mary all afternoon and she just loved it…
me: ummmm… (okay okay… I know old people sometimes call cigarettes “fags” because that’s what they used to be called… but last I checked “making love” to a dog doesn’t mean what she is saying it means. Does anyone know why the urge to get attention would be powerful enough to prompt the purposeful misuse of verbs here???)

She then announces that she wants to come up to the store and “help” tomorrow. Help usually consists of insulting me in front of the customers then storming out when I get angry. It’s this cat and mouse game that isn’t cute nor special and I really don’t have the patience for it anymore.

I work in a fishbowl. Big, overgrown ape-like people come and tap on that bowl loudly which makes me swim in circles. I need ape-repellent.