The thing about going the DIY route when opening a needlepoint shop is that it ultimately gives you a lot of self-confidence that you didn’t know you had when you started.
At some point, when you first embark on a project of this scope, you think, oh no, this is too overwhelming. It’ll cost too much. I don’t have millions to throw at this. There’s too much to do. I can’t do it all myself. And I can’t afford to pay a small army of handymen and assistants and web techies and financial advisers to do this for me.
That’s when the Voice of Doubt & Doom creeps in. It loves negativity.
It says things like there’s no way that you can reasonably expect to be able to do carpentry, web design, write business plans, learn about tablet checkout solutions, do a bang-up job with canvas and thread selection, line up trunk shows, decide on the right eCommerce solution, perform the store layout design, and on and on, blah blah.
Given half a chance, the Voice of Doubt & Doom will kill any dream.
So you have to confront it.
You do this by listening to another voice, an inner one that drove your decision to open a needlepoint store in the first place.
And you realize that if you divide what is a big, huge, overwhelming project into lots of little deliverables and doable milestones then your big project stops being an intimidating impossibility, a pipe dream that you fail at, something that years later people you know will remember and say, what was she thinking? Starting a retail shop? A needlepoint retail shop? In this economy? In the summer? In Florida?!!!
Before you know it, you’ll be waaaaaaaaaaaaaay past the what-on-earth-did-I-get-myself-into stage.
You start to feel, gosh yes, maybe I can actually make a go of this after all, except if Hurricane Frances decides to make a return visit this summer, and never leaves!
Well, we shall see what we shall see with Needlepoint Land.
Now let’s get back to those pesky little projected deliverables that’ll actually make it all happen.
I’m going to the store early today — it’s Memorial Day, big salute to our vets! — to paint the 48″ x 48″ pegboard that I bought yesterday at Lowe’s.
I was able to transport the pegboard to the store by tying it down to the rack on top of my Escape using the twine they conveniently have available for free outside. Nice touch by Lowe’s, that. Otherwise I would have had to hire Frank again to help me move it. Traffic was slow Sunday and it’s not a big distance to travel to Needlepoint Land, so no problemo.
I hope the pint of high gloss paint (which is already pre-mixed with primer) will be enough to do the job with one coat. The paint guy at Lowe’s said it would be. I’ve selected an odor-free paint so the canvases in the store don’t end up smelling of paint. I could paint it outside, but it may be too much hassle with dust and vans moving around the back service area, despite the holiday.
Of course I’m also concerned about getting paint on the carpet, if I paint it inside, so I’ve bought a large plastic drop cloth (talk about oxymorons!) and will take a bunch of old sheets and towels that I have in my house to the store to add more layers of protection for the carpet, just in case. By the way, I selected high gloss so I could clean it easily and also because I think it would look nicer. I’ll make the inside or outside paint decision when I get to the store. (It looks like it is going to rain, so it’ll probably be an inside job.)
This is not the most glamorous aspect of putting together a store, but the job is small so I should be done fairly quickly. After the paint dries, I will decide if I want to hang both pegboards without an installer. Maybe I’ll follow Kate Payne’s hip girl’s advice for doing this. (Or here’s a much cleaner way to do a pegboard install.)
I suddenly feel like a pegboard artiste.
© Erin McGrath and Needlepointland.com, 2012 – 2016