Some marketing ideas for those of you who have the zippered pouch pattern. I will not have time to do all of this myself, but I hope some of you go to town with it. I picture these as an impulse buy at a boutique register. If you have been wanting to offer wholesale to get into a brick and mortar shop you love, something small and simple might be the trick. As customers stand at the register, they see their initial and just have to buy it. The impulse price point will vary depending upon the boutique. I suggest you offer a 10 pack for the shop owner to try out the idea, and include a basket or some other container that coordinates with the shop decor.
These would also make great co-worker gifts. Never forget your parking meter change because it is on your keyring.
These are made from my zip pouches pattern. I omitted the snap pocket to simplify the cutting and sewing. The monograms are made separately and I can add them using fabric glue, after the customer has chosen the initial. A boutique would tell you up front what initials they want.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
W, X, Y
Adding to my zippered pouches pattern and trying to get to Z...
Actually, I will be there tomorrow. I will add the arm strap for the iPod pouch and that will be Z.
What you see here is a large pouch for full size hair care products 10 inches tall, 11 inches wide and 4 inches deep. I used laminated fabric for the inside and outside.
In the foreground is a 9 x 5 x 5 wristlet with a zipper pull strap.
Actually, I will be there tomorrow. I will add the arm strap for the iPod pouch and that will be Z.
What you see here is a large pouch for full size hair care products 10 inches tall, 11 inches wide and 4 inches deep. I used laminated fabric for the inside and outside.
In the foreground is a 9 x 5 x 5 wristlet with a zipper pull strap.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Real Life with Teenager
Monday is my day to post something I wrote for writers group. This one is from last Spring. I enjoy reading my stories outloud to the group and hearing their stories read to me. Printing them here isn't quite the same. Cheryl-Anne gets to read hers on the radio. Tune in here. Imagine what follows in my voice:
First, I think I need to explain why I was in my son's drawers...dresser drawers. Where, by the way, I found surprisingly few articles of clothing - high waisted carpenter jeans and long sleeved tee shirts he hasn't worn since 6th grade. Library fines. Only library fines could have sent me on this particular journey. (I am not the kind of mother who would read her teenager's journal or go through his things. Honestly, I don't even want to step into his room.)$189 in library fines. I felt an urgent need to stop the metaphorical bleeding. This amount was not going to wait until he came home from school - the library would be closed by then, and who knows what tomorrow's total would be?
I called him on the phone. He told me the Cd's were in his top dresser drawer. I shuddered, thanked him, and hung up. I stepped gingerly while trying not to look at the floor strewn with clothes and books and papers (presumably school work.) There was a jack-in-the-box effect when I opened the drawer. "Pop!" goes the gum and candy wrapper collection. I am thinking they look like garbage to me, but they must have sentimental value for him. "Sweet things I have loved," or something like that. I have to dig to get to all of the Cd's. (Note to self: get shallower drawers.) As I was digging, I uncovered a stack of magazines, face down in the drawer. Oh, crap! I close my eyes and bow my head for a moment of silent prayer: "Please, Lord, don't let it be..." I take a quick snort of air into my nostrils, the kind that holds back tears. I move slowly, with one eye open, I turn the stack over... The New Yorker. Exhale. Big Exhale. Buried in his dresser drawer, my son of the maxed out library card, has 6 or 8 issues of The New Yorker. I gathered up the borrowed Violent Femmes, the overdue Bowling For Soup, the presumed lost Flight of the Concordes and took them to the library with a smile on my face. I am going to have to admit, he doesn't know squat about responsibility, but he is a class act. Oh, I love him.
Related Items
First, I think I need to explain why I was in my son's drawers...dresser drawers. Where, by the way, I found surprisingly few articles of clothing - high waisted carpenter jeans and long sleeved tee shirts he hasn't worn since 6th grade. Library fines. Only library fines could have sent me on this particular journey. (I am not the kind of mother who would read her teenager's journal or go through his things. Honestly, I don't even want to step into his room.)$189 in library fines. I felt an urgent need to stop the metaphorical bleeding. This amount was not going to wait until he came home from school - the library would be closed by then, and who knows what tomorrow's total would be?
I called him on the phone. He told me the Cd's were in his top dresser drawer. I shuddered, thanked him, and hung up. I stepped gingerly while trying not to look at the floor strewn with clothes and books and papers (presumably school work.) There was a jack-in-the-box effect when I opened the drawer. "Pop!" goes the gum and candy wrapper collection. I am thinking they look like garbage to me, but they must have sentimental value for him. "Sweet things I have loved," or something like that. I have to dig to get to all of the Cd's. (Note to self: get shallower drawers.) As I was digging, I uncovered a stack of magazines, face down in the drawer. Oh, crap! I close my eyes and bow my head for a moment of silent prayer: "Please, Lord, don't let it be..." I take a quick snort of air into my nostrils, the kind that holds back tears. I move slowly, with one eye open, I turn the stack over... The New Yorker. Exhale. Big Exhale. Buried in his dresser drawer, my son of the maxed out library card, has 6 or 8 issues of The New Yorker. I gathered up the borrowed Violent Femmes, the overdue Bowling For Soup, the presumed lost Flight of the Concordes and took them to the library with a smile on my face. I am going to have to admit, he doesn't know squat about responsibility, but he is a class act. Oh, I love him.
Related Items
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Hello teachers and scrapbook enthusiasts
School starts tomorrow for us, so I wanted to pass this along. Picnik has some great ideas for teachers. It really is fun to play with their frames and collages. Almost enough fun to make me want to start scrapbooking. If you already love scrapbooking, you will probably flip over all of the easy page options on Picnik. If you have been wanting an easier way than physical cutting and pasting to create great mementos for your students, here is your answer. They show the new back to school features, like my blog banner sample below, and student desk name tags, on the Picnik blog. Imagine your kindergarten teacher in the photo above holding a book and introducing herself to you in her first newsletter... all I did was add the Polaroid frame to my photo and then added the text, all in Picnik.
Luggage tags for instrument cases! The fifth grade parents don't even know about band yet, so it is not too late to promote these - cool! My J-I-T marketing plan is so crazy, it just might work!
Monday, August 30, 2010
Lists
I wrote this a few years ago for a newsletter. It has become one of the favorite stories I have told at writers group. With the kids heading back to school this week, I thought it was a good one to share here now.
It was late September, the kids had been back to school for about a month, and I was
relishing the quiet hours between 9 and 3. Time to work uninterrupted. If the weather was good, I could even get an extra half an hour in as I sent the kids walking to school and let them see themselves home. Why am I unprepared for the onslaught everytime they walk through the door at 3:15?
"Mommy, do you need to go to the store?"
"Sure." I answered, "You can come with me."
She wants a cookie, I thought. I can take a break from this in a while and take her.
Gabrielle offered, "I'll help you make the list." This was her way of getting me off of my project and out the door faster.
"Go ahead, hon." This was my way of staying on my project and helping my first grader become more independent.
"How do you spell asparagus?"
Oh, great! I can focus through a lot of background, but spelling requires all of me.
"Why don't you just write down the first letter of the things we need, and we will remember when we get there?" My idea satisfied both of us. Aisle by aisle in my mind, I named the things we needed, and Gabrielle marked their initial.
When we got to the store, my plan seemed to be working: "A" asparagus, how could we forget? Another "A" for apples, "M" mushrooms, "B" bread, but then she came to a "W." We stopped.
"W," "W," what did we need that started with "W?" Watermelon was out of season. We stood in the aisle between the bakery and the produce wracking our brains. Suddenly, Gabrielle turned toward the deli, and with her finger in the air declared, "I know, wunchmeat!"
Related Iems
It was late September, the kids had been back to school for about a month, and I was
relishing the quiet hours between 9 and 3. Time to work uninterrupted. If the weather was good, I could even get an extra half an hour in as I sent the kids walking to school and let them see themselves home. Why am I unprepared for the onslaught everytime they walk through the door at 3:15?
"Mommy, do you need to go to the store?"
"Sure." I answered, "You can come with me."
She wants a cookie, I thought. I can take a break from this in a while and take her.
Gabrielle offered, "I'll help you make the list." This was her way of getting me off of my project and out the door faster.
"Go ahead, hon." This was my way of staying on my project and helping my first grader become more independent.
"How do you spell asparagus?"
Oh, great! I can focus through a lot of background, but spelling requires all of me.
"Why don't you just write down the first letter of the things we need, and we will remember when we get there?" My idea satisfied both of us. Aisle by aisle in my mind, I named the things we needed, and Gabrielle marked their initial.
When we got to the store, my plan seemed to be working: "A" asparagus, how could we forget? Another "A" for apples, "M" mushrooms, "B" bread, but then she came to a "W." We stopped.
"W," "W," what did we need that started with "W?" Watermelon was out of season. We stood in the aisle between the bakery and the produce wracking our brains. Suddenly, Gabrielle turned toward the deli, and with her finger in the air declared, "I know, wunchmeat!"
Related Iems
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Butterfly Manito Park
I think this one would make a neat puzzle. I am looking into doing it in time for Christmas. Perfect for 7-10 year olds on our list. The way this happened was as I was switching out one set of luggage tags for another - setting up for the next photo, Rory wandered off chasing this butterfly. I lost my photographer for a short time but gained lovely photo.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Our version of Gnomes
A man watched us (amused) and finally asked if this was our version of Gnomes. I told him what we were really doing, a photo shoot for an online shop. Thinking about it now, I think I like the gnomes answer better. So on future photo shoots I can entertain myself with that. I am seriously debating letting this case go - I haven't put it in the shop yet. We got some fabulous photos of it which I will edit and add to my Flickr photostream on Monday. It is just so photogenic inside and out. I may have a use for it down the road...especially if I decide to go ahead with some lingerie ideas that are tripping around in my head. We got a lot of great shots today that will be showing up in the shop - new luggage tags and new vintage luggage, also new shots of a few clutches. I am grateful for Rory, who will give up his Saturday to shoot pictures with me. I didn't even grab the camera from him once today.
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