The Spirit, The Wallet, and The Ego

At the start of this year, I pledged to embrace the mantra: Local, Home, Hand. This was a conscious effort to incorporate more homemade and handmade pieces into my life; frequent small businesses and support local artists and artisans. The idea behind this was to become more thoughtful about consumerism and to connect more personally with the people making the goods and providing services.

I’m happy to say that so far, everything is going according to the plan. Well, almost.

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I recently started a business (yay!! 🙂 ——->insert shameless plug here,)<——— and I felt a resurgence of creativity that had been dormant for about a year now. A few months ago, the hyper focus of raising my twins very gradually shifted from all about the girls, to mostly about the girls, with a side of mommy’s art time. Drawings started to fill my half-used sketch book, and I revisited some shelved t-shirt designs. It was the spark I needed to light that creative spirit again and give me a sense of accomplishment apart from being a mother.FullSizeRender

Time home with my twins made me realize a few things about style and comfort. Personally, I needed both: clothing and accessories that were stylish, and could function for daily parenting activities. This was the inspiration for the Ginger and Hazel™ business. My girls have become very interested in hats and headbands and learning how to put things on and take them off, so these items were in our daily rotation of interesting things that could entertain and educate. Also, my babes are still pretty bald, so they require head gear pretty much everywhere we go since the weather has been cold here in the Northeast.

A typical night around here is putting the girls to bed and then staying up till about 2am cutting, pinning, and sewing fabric, and sharing pictures of items and events on social media. Essentially, I hit the ground running with my girls at 7:30/8am, and then 12 hours later, clock out as “Mom” and clock in as Juliette, the hippie-ish, sort of crunchy, art student that dates (married) the tattoo artist, and stays up all night making cool things.IMG_0638-1 It’s like the old me comes out at night. I should definitely be sleeping more. But the truth is, I love it. I love the thrill of making something with my hands. So much so, that I’m willing to sacrifice precious sleep to do it. It’s good for spirit, I can feel it.

So then there’s the reality of running this small business. There’s money spent collecting materials and tools. I’ve set up an Etsy shop where people can purchase my handmade items, and I’ve sold hats and headbands directly to friends and family. Direct sales are the most profitable. Profits are good for the wallet.

And finally, the retail experience. This is where it gets interesting. Retail offers great exposure and validation for your product or brand. FullSizeRender-1When you find one that shares your vision and aligns with your values and expectations, it can be a wonderful partnership. It’s exciting seeing your item in a store, even if your profits may initially take a hit. This is great for the ego. And I’ll be honest, I take a lot of selfies modeling my own products with my girls. After two babies and very little sleep, a couple clicks on the ‘like’ button is damn good for the ego too.

So, looking to the future, the questions hang in the air: Will you be successful? What is success? I’m happy to say that I am personally making some fun and creative items for family, friends, and maybe you, but at the end of the (very long) day, I’m really making them for me. Through Ginger and Hazel though, I get to share. ❤

You can check out some of our handmade products here! 🙂 :

www.etsy.com/shop/GingerandHazel 

 Find us on Instagram: @gingerandhazelcoIMG_3826

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I’m Too Young For A Retrospective!

Throw back Thursdays, Flashback Fridays. It’s nice to look back sometimes.

This guy.

This guy.

Recently I started throwing back to some old artwork. After 15 months of reading board books and making animal noises, it was good to be reminded that at one time, I was a creative person. Not even just a little creative, VERY creative. Involved in art making. Owned-a-potter’s-wheel, an-easel, hung-six-foot-drawings-from-the-ceiling, stayed-up-all-night-silk-screening-T-shirts, and-made-my-own-stationary, kind of creative.

And then two years went by and I didn’t pick up a paintbrush. How did this happen? My potter’s wheel became a table for old shoe boxes filled with photos, or tubes of paint that were also neglected. Really pathetic stuff. All of my paintings, drawings, and photographs from college were shuffled in and out of storage units, basements and attics so many times, I didn’t know where much of it was anymore. I was starting to feel a bit like I lost my security blanket. I needed my creative things around me. They reminded me.

I’m too damn young for a retrospective! I was thiiiiiiis close to reminiscing about my days as an artist, ready to gather all the painted, polished, carved things in a box and tuck them away in some dusty trunk packed in an attic to show my kids someday. My art skills peaked in college, and I was done, I told myself. Hubs is the artist, I’ll just manage his career.

Then one day I’m flipping through one of my many sketchbooks and looking through some old t-shirt designs I never had the chance to print. There’s a pen in my hand, and I start doodling in the margins and kind of playing on the sidelines of my sketches. Three piles of laundry sat next to me. This is a waste of precious time, I think, no direction, no plan, no purpose. The pen rolled smoothly over the page. Babies started throwing toys out of the playpen. Who do I think I am calling myself an artist? You’ve lost it. The pen kept moving. Almost time to make baby food. It can wait ten minutes. The pen didn’t stop. You have no idea what you’re doing, this doesn’t look like anything. But the ink started to fill the page.

A pen is the best way to jump back in, because once you put that sucker to paper, you can’t erase it. No going back, you’ve made a mark and should probably just keep going.

I’ve been asked: why spend so much time hand making party decorations, editing photos, even decorating a room that you won’t be staying in very long? It’s because these small acts are exercises in creativity-or maybe just a warm-up. They’re also the residual effects of an artistic existence. Creative emissions need grounding, even in the most mundane of activities.

And now, there’s me and this pen, moving forward.

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