It's one of those bittersweet situations...
People love your stuff so much you sold out of it too fast. And now you have to wait two weeks for more stock to arrive.
In the grand scheme of things, it's a minor inconvenience. But in my bigger picture, it's a real pain in the ass.
These planners are my entire focus. I've bought two new printers to speed up the printing, have enlisted people to help test and refine the inserts and have a launch calendar of new inserts scheduled in. I have businesses wanting me to create custom packs and events where having inserts available is important...
And now, all of those are on hold. Never mind the sales I might lose because people can't buy what they need right now...
I'm a bit heartbroken. Every messed up page is now an insert I couldn't print... Every wasted piece mocks me from the scrap heap.
But that is just part of business, I suppose. The ups and downs of trying to figure it out, deal with the shit and carry on.
And because I want to share the reality of trying to build this business in 2025 New Zealand, I wanted to update everyone on how it's actually going - not the sparkly, social-media filtered version, but the raw, beautiful-yet-exhausting reality.
So, here's a BHS of how I got myself to the Garden City Makete. I hope those of you who feel like everyone else is floating around on a cloud of ease finds some comfort in knowing how much of a cluster it was getting there (but it was so, so worth it!)
Mental markets
"You just need a table," said my step-MIL as she saw my panic stricken face the night before my first market, desperately trying to lay everything out before trying to fit it into the car, while battling the wind and trying to occupy a demanding toddler.
Two days before, I had confidently told my husband that, while there was still a lot to do, I felt fully in control. But whether it was an illusion, delusion or the calm before the storm, that feeling definitely didn't last.
Instead, I had spent the Friday running around like a panicked Pomeranian. I get four-hours a day of toddler-free time to work on my business, and Friday's time had been reserved for final set ups, stock counts and signage, knowing I would be trying to turn packing the car into a fun game that a 3-year-old likes to play after I picked him up from preschool.
I didn't expect to find myself running right to the other side of the city in school-time traffic, in order to spend another $600 on a marquee because the one I had ordered online hadn't turned up on time.
"It's fine," I repeated as I breathed, sitting still at a barely-moving green light. I handed my mum my phone.
"Can you please find the person on market place who is supposed to be bringing the eftbos machine?"
"Why did you leave it this late?" asked mum, confused.
"I didn't. They were supposed to drop it off on Monday, but kept getting delayed. And it's too late now for me to find another solution."
My poor mother tried to offer solutions to my various pickles, all of which I shot down because my brain couldn't handle thinking through a new plan.
I had spent so long planning, testing and researching for this. Every detail had been considered.
How was I going to keep stock stable in the wind? How was I going to capture people's attention? How was I going to infuse the brand without pointless and expensive banners that no one pays attention to? How can I make it clear what I sell and how it works and what my vibez are? How was I going to transport it? How much stock did I want? What would work long-term as I changed things up? What was I going to wear?
All these questions had been answered.... in my head.
I'm usually really good at this stuff - for my wedding, I had spreadsheets that explained the micro and macro layouts of the various spaces around the venue, interconnecting timelines with prep instructions, photo lists and important contacts for various things. I simply handed everyone the info pack with various instructions and diagrams, and vendors, family and friends were able to manage the entire day on my behalf.
But by Friday, a lot of my market plans had gone to shit and I was spiralling. I had run out of time.
As I was trying to make pricing signage (very important), my mum helpfully packed the car, but I had zero idea what she was packing, where.
Somehow, the Eftbos machine that was finally dropped off on Friday evening ended up MIA amongst everything, so I couldn't set it up and figure out how to get the Shopify POS side of things to work. I looked in every box I could see, but it was no where to be found.
It was at that point my husband kindly informed me we weren't going to fit everything in the car.
"What's the priority?" he asked.
"Well, I need the racks, I need the stock, I need the tables... none of this is superfluous," I replied, the panic squeaking through my voice.
Somehow, I played an intensely stressful game of tetris and squeezed most of it in. I tried to get some sleep, accepting I was just going to have to make a lot of it up on the fly.
The next morning, I woke up, determined to have a good market day. I had a shower, put on sunscreen and got myself half dressed. I had a timeline to follow this morning and I - thankfully - was right on schedule.
Until Casper, my ridiculously cute cat, decided to throw up right infront of me on my bedroom floor.
I took a deep breath and reassured myself. I lifted my chin and went to get some kitchen paper to start cleaning it up. As I was carrying the cat vomit to the bin, my body decided join him with a sympathy vomit.
And there I stood, in my hallway. Casper's vomit in one hand, mine in the other, in front of a puddle of regurgitated coffee. My eyes watered. I was no longer on schedule.
"Do I just cancel the whole thing?" I asked the universe. "Or are you just making sure I really work for this?"
As tears trickled out my freshly mascaraed eyes, I grabbed the wet vac and calmly started cleaning up. What more could I do? I couldn't just leave it there all day. I had no choice, it just had to be cleaned up and I was the only one there to do it.
"Running late," I texted mum. "Be there as soon as I can."
Set up went about as well as you'd expect. Fully disorganised and inexperienced, fighting the wind and trying not to be too snappy with my mother who had flown all the way from Australia just to give me a hand, I just kept marching on. Bit by bit, and with a bit of help from neighbouring vendors, it slowly came together.
And, to be totally honest with you, the market was amazing. Seeing people connect with my designs was the most incredible feeling in the world.
When the day was done, I looked at myself in the mirror and tears came to my eyes once again. But, this time, they were tears of happiness.
"I really love who I am today," I said to my husband as we got ready for bed. My legs were sore, my bank account was empty and nothing had gone to plan. But, I was so validated in my mission to share my creations with the world and I met some magical people along the way.
And I can't wait to do it again!
