Carnival Cherry Necklace, www.thetotetrove.etsy.com
While in A. C. Moore the other day, I couldn't help but snatch up red, black, and white accessories to augment the black and white Faux Show pendant I had at home in making my next carnival necklace creation. What is it about red, black, and white? I've always been drawn to this trifecta of color (the bf would be proud, as he used the word "trifecta" at every opportunity. I suppose he's rubbing off on me.). It just pops with a retro kind of glam, especially here in pin-up polka dots. I finished off the Carnival Cherry Necklace with sweet Mary Engelbreit rhinestone cherries I rescued from a Michaels $1 bin ages ago.
As I was leaving A. C. Moore, a woman approached me. "Excuse me," she said. "But did you paint your bag?" I was carrying my original large tote, which is emblazoned with hearts, stars, fruits, rain drops, and a checkerboard design.
"Yes," I smiled, explaining how I drew the design first, then added two layers of acrylic fabric paint. She seemed very impressed and interested, so after a pause I took the leap and said, "I used to sell them at craft shows, but now I'm just online, which is a lot easier."
As soon as the words were out of my mouth I felt like a used car salesman. Her face changed a little, and she said, "Oh, I'm sure." I said good-bye and dashed off without giving her a business card.
This happens to me a lot. I want to let people know that I'm a professional but then back pedal, worried that I'm coming off like some kind of hawker. I guess that's because I find it a little tasteless when strangers try to sell me on their wares. So, fellow artists, what do you think? Are you comfortable talking up your work and handing out your business card, or are you like me and semi-paralyzed by reservations? I'm genuinely curious.