Because I Could, Like, Totally Just Make That Myself

For the past two weeks I've been sitting at a local fund-raising event as a participant in their "Shops" component. The Shops are intended to be a place where people can buy fun, happy little totally unnecessary items for their homes and/or themselves. The more altruistic ones are Mother's Day shopping.

A lot of the items that various boutiques are selling are locally produced, and some are even handmade. Not "My 5-Year Old Made This" handmade, but awesomely handmade, such as the awesome Ambre scents made by an Indianapolis woman that Twisted Sisters is selling. Or their cool handmade "Bar Scarves" that feature old T-shirts repurposed into scarves with a little zip pocket so you don't have to carry a purse. Um, LOVE THAT.

The Blue Door has adorable hand-painted picture frames from the Magnolia lane line, and three of the booths feature the softest knitted linen scarves EVER.

Even over at my modest booth, we're selling handmade silk wreaths, handmade silk planters, regular planters, and then fresh-cut flowers that I'll make into a bouquet of your choosing.

Here's the thing. Yes, these items are handmade. Yes, they might be made by people you actually know. That does not mean that YOU, necessarily, could make them yourself. Or maybe you are an extremely crafty person and DO know how to make them yourself, in which case, recognize the shops as the idea-generating place they are and be nice about it!

Now, I recognize that being nice about things you have no intention of buying, and therefore do not respect the craftsmanship of, does not appeal to all people. But I REALLY could have done without the unoriginal gems of:

*As the hand comes up and squeezes the head of a gorgeous expensive rose sitting in a bucket directly over a sign that says : WE ARE REAL. PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH.* "Are these REAL??" Yes, they are, you dumbass. And now they're really dead. And now you're going to bitch about how much they cost (a whole $2 a stem, because that's only slightly more than they cost ME,and I have to make up for all the ones you and your dumbass friends have killed by not paying attention.)

Me to a woman standing in my booth, staring at the fresh flowers, standing about an inch from me: "Hi! Can I make you a bouquet today?" Her (LOOK OF DEATH BEARS DOWN ON ME): "UM, I'm all-ER-GIC." Me: "Oh, sorry! We do have some silks if you're interested." Her: (LOOK OF DEATH GETS WORSE) "Silks? Ugh. Silks are so awful." Me: "Ohhhhkay, well, I don't know that there is anything here for you, then." Her: "Well, NO, of course. But I am WAITING on my FRIEND." Me: "Right."

Then there's the ones who like to critique your work.

"Can I make you a bouquet?" I offer to a woman who has not only entered my booth, but TAKEN MY SEAT to page through her brochure. She, like other print-pant wearing self-entitled biddies, fixes me with the desperate look of "Dear Lord, why is this low-class desperate worker speaking to ME, Princess, out of turn?" Then she realizes what I've asked, looks at the flowers next to her, and inquires scathingly, "With THESE??? " Guess not!

"I can't believe how much they charge for silk flowers," was another comment overheard- well, not so much overheard as the woman looked right at me and said it out loud *to her friend* next to her. You're right. I can't believe how much they charge for wholesale silks, either. See if you can guess the correlation. No? It's 'cause these are nicer than the crap you find at Michaels!

And of course, she followed it up with what has truly become my favorite phrase to hear all during the show. The one we've all grown accustomed to hearing and only wish we could be around to see the results of (though,goodness knows, most of the mouths that this one flies out of will never actually follow through with it. They just want to express, momentarily, their total distaste at the thought that THEY would want to buy something that YOU had made, and have the complete and total thoughtlessness to CHARGE SOMETHING FOR IT that actually allowed you to recoup your costs and make enough to, say, pay 1/17th of your mortgage. Or 1/2 of your Internet/cable bill.)

"GOD," this woman announced to all in the vicinity. "It's AMAZING how much markup they've got to be making off this shit. Let's go home. Because I could, like, TOTALLY just make that myself."

I'd really, really, really, REALLY like to see that.