This took me by surprise, but I guess it shouldn’t have: The latest Sublime Stitching artist collaborator is none other than The Black Apple. In other words: Black Apple embroidery patterns.
Sublime Stitching of course is Jenny Hart’s company — Hart being part of the Austin Craft Mafia, and a figure in Buying In. (Post-Buying In follow-up Q&A with Hart is here.)
And The Black Apple is Emily Martin, who dedicated readers will recall from the Handmade 2.0 article as (I think this is still true) the single most popular seller on Etsy.
Both Hart & Martin are very talented and very smart — and, if you don’t mind my saying so, incredibly nice. I did not know they were acquainted, but I think it’s great they’re working together; it makes a lot of sense.
Details here and here.
A while ago I brought up the question of whether anybody was interested in a Kindle version of Buying In. The response was, uh, muted. But as it turns out, through no action on my part whatsoever, such a version is now available.
It so happens that Seth Godin had an interesting post about the Kindle the other day (via Undependent). If you’re interested in the device, who is buying it, how it might evolve, and so on, I recommend checking out the whole post. (The most interesting thing to me about the Kindle is that it’s one of these weirdly divisive devices — even people who have never handled one seem to have strong opinions.)
Like Undependent, I was drawn to Godin’s passing assertion that “power is going to continue to accrue to authors with direction connections to readers.” I’m still thinking that through, particularly what “direct connections” means, exactly — or will mean.
This relates, somewhat, to the Murakami one-in-ten rule post the other day, or rather to the comment thread attached to it. Also to the Harvard Business Review article comparing Long Tail theory to sales data in certain cultural-product sales categories. And also to this recent, pessimistic Guardian piece, “Why Authors Can’t Go It Alone.”
More later.
[Note: After spending a good deal more time than anticipated stuck in airports and so on last week, I am running late both on AntiFriday, and on responding to recent comments to various posts. Will do that soonest.]
1. WSJ says “Federal regulators are beginning an effort to crack down on stealth advertising in television shows, a move aimed at letting consumers know when companies have paid to use their products as props.” (Via Commercial Alert.) And Ad Age says: “Hollywood’s screenwriters are the latest group to write poison-pen letters to the Federal Communications Commission about Madison Avenue’s use of product integration, which jumped 39% on broadcast TV in the first quarter of 2008, according to Nielsen Product Placement Service.” (Also via Commercial Alert.)
Something people ask me about a lot lately, vis a vis the broad topic of murketing and Buying In, is this very subject: Will there be a backlash/crackdown on the specific practice of commercial persuasion leaking out of the 30-second ads you can zap through if you happen to have a DVR, and into actual shows?
It’s clear that this practice really bugs a lot of people, but up to now my answer has been: I don’t see anything indicating it will slow down. Maybe that’s changing?
Here’s a related Washington Post story. Here’s the official (and generally unimpressed) response from Commercial Alert.
2. Meanwhile, one of the better-known murketing campaigns of the moment is the one pushing Colt 45. The malt liquor brand is owned by Pabst (whose PBR is of course the subject of a chapter in Buying In). The PBR story is largely about a brand picked up by consumers, with the corporate owner amping things after the fact. The Colt 45 thing seems more synthetic, but maybe there was an awakened interest in the malt liquor that I’m not aware of.
In any case, the Colt 45 campaign has been more of a “buzz building” effort, with aggressive stunts meant to have publicity value and talk value. One effort involved indie art on brown paper bags. More recently:
Philly’s “Mural Arts Program” has painted 2,700 murals. But while most of the murals are about life, energy and color, some murals in Fishtown are all about malt liquor, Colt 45. Pabst Beer paid local businesses for some of their wall space. But the city said the quasi-murals are illegal because a permit is needed. NBC 10 called Pabst and they are not commenting on the issue. The city is still trying to see if any local advertising agencies helped them out.
That’s from Phawker. Related posts in AdFreak, and Anti-Advertising Agency. Read more
So … If you’re in the Boston area, and you took advantage of my earlier open call to join me at an invitation-only party for Buying In, then I’ll see you tonight. And maybe you’ll even pick up an outstanding limited edition (of 50) poster by none other than Amy Jo, pictured above. (More on Amy Jo later.)
And if you’re in Boston and you simply ignored my open invitation … well … what can I tell you?
UPDATE: Huge thanks to the folks at Continuum, and to all the friends, old and new, who made it out. A very fun evening for me, and I hope for you all, too.
The June 21-27 Economist has an item that mentions in passing that “the fastest-growing part of America’s commercial-property business in the last 30 years” is the self-storage business. “There are now almost seven square feet of self-storage for every American.”
That’s sort of astonishing. What in the world are people storing?
The Economist brings this up in relation to the latest research on “the endowment effect,” and suggests (not entirely seriously) that our tendency to overvalue something simply because we own it (that’s the endowment effect) explains our reluctance to pare back on useless junk — and thus we rent out storage space for it when there’s too much clutter in the home.
The endowment (or “mere ownership”) effect comes up in Buying In, but so does another basic psychological concept relevant to our consumer behavior: adaptation. The latter encompasses, basically, our tendency to overestimate how long the pleasure we associate with a new thing will last (and to overestimate how long the misery associated with some negative event will last). In the context of stuff we buy, adaptation is what clutters your closet (or storage unit): All the things that seemed awesome at the moment of purchase, and then got ho-hum, and forgotten, pretty fast.
I’ve never seen research that reconciled these two concepts, and I wonder if such a study exists. Do we actually overvalue (per endowment effect) the junk in the closet (or the storage unit)? If we do, then why is forgotten and as a practical matter unenjoyed (per adaptation)?
Is there a point where the endowment effect fades, and adaptation kicks in?
Or do the two exist simultaneously in, say, that trendy raincoat (or whatever) that you had to have when it was on-trend and there was a waiting list — but that you haven’t worn since?
That is: Is it the case that said raincoat-owner no longer gets pleasure from the thing, yet still overvalues it?
Or: Is the way the endowment effect tends to be measured (direct questions about “what would you sell this for,” etc.) so outside the realm of the way we think about stuff we own in the months/years after acquisition, that it’s just not a relevant thing to try to measure at after x amount of time?
I feel confident that most everyone reading this owns a bunch of junk that doesn’t really mean much (or have much value). Maybe some of you even have rented storage space to keep it in.
I’m also confident that it meant something (and did have value) at the moment of purchase.
I’m less confident about the moment when that meaning (and value) evaporates.
I mentioned earlier that on a recent visit to Richmond, VA, I “signed stock” at the Fountain Bookstore. Obviously they sell those signed copies to their local customer base.
However, I recently realized that they also sell online, and after a quick check with the excellent owner Kelly, they’ve now got a special link, whereby non-Richmonders can order one of those signed copies from the store. (Supplies limited, obviously.)
One of the things I’ve learned in the last few weeks is how much it matters to have the support of booksellers like Fountain Bookstore — an independent shop that actually has a point of view. I’ve also learned that such support is more rare than you’d think. So, when I get it, I figure the least I can do is try to support them back.
In the final section of Buying In, three forward-looking chapters explore where the evolving 21st century relationship between what we buy and who we are might go — or rather where we might take it. This section includes my argument that the conspicuous consumption, keeping-up-with-the-Joneses, status-signal, “badge” theory of consumer behavior is counterproductive and out of date.
In this original essay for ChangeThis, I explore “the invisible badge” as a more useful construct for understanding, and shaping, our own behavior. Short outtake:
The framework of the invisible badge is wholly different [from conspicuous consumption]. It can only be a reflection of who you really are. It can’t be faked. The invisible badge need not derive from religion or environmental consciousness. Your belief system can be drawn from membership in a subculture, or the military, or any number of other sources. Possibly that belonging manifests itself in a tangible, badge-ish way – an old Misfits T-shirt, or a patch signifying service in the 3rd Infantry Division of the United States Army.
But (and this is crucial) even absent the visual signifier, the identity, and its meaning, remain.
I hope you will check it out.
For another view on the subject, Virginia Postrel coincidentally offers “a new theory of the leisure class” in The Atlantic.
Off topic: This was an interesting writing experiment for me, for two reasons. One is that the writing on Change This is in the form of “manifestos,” meaning it’s a much more direct exhortation than I’ve been used to writing lately. If you’re interested in more about that, read on.
Read more
Powell’s asked me to write an essay for their newsletter, in connection to Buying In. Here’s a short outtake:
On a cultural level, I understand why people want to wall off consumer culture into its own category, something we don’t have to take all that seriously. Critiquing what we buy and why tilts into the commercial marketplace in ways that just don’t feel as serious, as, say, critiquing works of art — even if the definition of “works of art” has gotten pretty fluid. (Somehow a quasi-scholarly critique of Battlestar Galactica, for instance, seems more like what we think of as criticism than a deconstruction of who buys Red Bull, and why.)
But consumer culture is serious….
Read the whole thing here.
Big thanks to everyone who came out to Friday night’s New York Buying In event at the Art Directors Club. I was happy with the turnout, happy to see old friends, happy to make new ones.
I particularly want to thank PSFK for making it happen, and I hope Piers and Hedy won’t mind if I name-check them here. We had a lot of moving parts to this thing, and they executed perfectly. Awesome job, and my gratitude is deep and heartfelt. Being the center of attention gives me the straight-up willies, but this came off so nicely even I had a good time. Thank you.
I also want to thank Barking Irons, Andrew Andrew, Fast Company, Danielle Sacks, and F2 Design.
Inevitably, too many conversations were cut short, or simply never happened; my apologies to those I didn’t get to spend as much time chatting with as I would have liked.
Finally: I would like to thank the fine gentleman who loaned (well gave) me a pen.
Originally uploaded by EssG.
Friday night July 13 is the New York event for Buying In. It’s at the Art Directors Club, 106 W 29th St. (Doors 6:30, activity starts at 7.) Free and open to the public.
I’ll be in conversation with Danielle Sacks of Fast Company, and then taking audience questions. Books will be sold and signed, a limited number of beautiful letterpress posters will be given away for free, Barking Irons will be screenprinting (and selling) T’s on the spot, Fast Company will be giving out free magazines. Plus catering, booze, and mingling, all put together by PSFK.
Now I mentioned all this a while ago, and maybe you clicked through and RSVPed, or maybe you clicked through and learned that it was “sold out.” Several people have asked: How can a free event be “sold out”? The anwer is that the number of RSVPs exceeded the amount of space available — but of course we have no way of knowing how many of the RSVP-ers will actually show up. Or for that matter how many people who did not RSVP will show up anyway.
So that’s what’s going on; just trying to be as open about it as possible. If you did RSVP, I recommend that you show up — and in fact I recommend that you do so closer to 6:30 to 7. I think it’ll be a fun evening. Hope to see you there.
This site’s been quiet the last couple of days because I’m away from home and running around a lot doing various things to support Buying In. Next week things will be more active here again. On a related note, AntiFriday is postponed this week — I’ve got a few items but no time to put together a post. So next week will be Double AntiFriday.
Meanwhile: In Buying In news: I was on the Diane Rehm show Wednesday, you can listen here if you like; 1800 CEO Read recommends Buying In; Jennifer Wells’ writeup in the Globe and Mail; Chris Cadelago interview in the San Francisco Chronicle.
A few months ago, in what has got to be among the most indefensible financial decisions I’ve ever made in my life, I decided I wanted a really great custom poster to go along with one or more of the events that will promote Buying In. I told myself this might help with “buzz,” but really I know that it’s simply the closest I can ever come to even pretending to be a rock star.
I make it habit to peruse the sites of many letterpress and other poster-makers anyway, so when the time came I had a few folks in mind, and the first one I reached out to was F2 Design, in Lubbock, Texas. Can’t remember how I first found the site, but I loved the work. And I was pleased to find, when I inquired, that co-proprietor Dirk Fowler (his wife Carol Fowler is the other F in F2) was willing to do this slightly weird job. The design he came up with was, in my view, fantastic, and having received actual posters in the mail the other day, I can tell you they’re even more impressive in person.
In fact F2 was such a pleasure to work with, I thought it would be cool to do a Q&A with Mr. Fowler here, and he went along with that, too. In addition to posters for bands like Wilco and Spoon and many others, F2 has also done a variety of other striking design projects, from identity to apparel. But my questions tended to be about posters, and letterpress.
–> Please note: We’ll be giving out about 40 of these F2 Buying In posters (above; they are 18X24 inches), for free, at the event in New York this Friday night.
And yes, this is a weird time of day to post, but I’m out of pocket most of tomorrow. So here goes:
Q. So I believe you work with “an antique letterpress.” Without making you tell your entire life story, I’m curious about what first attracted you to letterpress, and, if the setup you have now, studio-wise, is close to your ideal?
A: I have a Vandercook No. 1 proof press and an unmarked sign press. The latter being the one I do most of my work on because it allows for a much larger print size.
I was first attracted to letterpress after a visit to Hatch Show Print in Nashville in the late 90s. After spending years as an advertising art director, I really wanted to get back into what drew me into graphic design in the first place, making art with my hands. I love the tactile quality and feel of letterpress and wanted to make advertising or design that people might actually want to keep.
I wouldn’t say my setup is ideal. It is a small room (once a sunroom) in the back of my house, really only big enough for one person. I’m a small guy, so it works for me, but ideally, I would like a larger space so I could add more equipment. The danger in this is that I would keep adding more equipment. What I have now allows me to be at home with my family, print until I can’t stand anymore, and go fall into bed. Plus, it keeps my operation small, which I think is a good thing.
On a similar note, I don’t know exactly how long you’ve been interested in letterpress, but I feel as an outsider as though the form has become steadily more popular in recent years — possibly as a result of rising interest in things that have a handmade touch, partly as a result of the Web. So that means more interest — but maybe also more competition? I also feel like there’s a rock poster renaissance afoot, and letterpress is part of that. Is it good or bad for you if there are lots of letterpress folks around? Read more
Possibly I’m overdoing it with all the Buying In chatter, but it’s kind of dominated my week. Here’s the expanding linkpile of online reactions etc. Also: ReadyMade did a very nice brief, which I mention because (I hadn’t known this) the magazine has been experimenting with an all-digital version. For the moment at least you can check it out here — and of course I’ll mention the Buying In brief is on page 18.
Also, if you’ve ever looked at the front page of Murketing.com you’ve noticed that I have almost no HTML skill outside of the context of blog software. Well, E finally stepped in and bailed me out: Check out the front page now. Big improvement!
Finally, a reminder: I’ll be in Richmond this evening, and Chicago Saturday. (Click the bold city name for details.) Love to meet you if you’re in those spots.
And now, the last of Murketing.com’s series of three Q&As with Austin Craft Mafia co-founders who I interviewed for one of the closing chapters of Buying In. Jenny Hart is the founder of Sublime Stitching, a successful business that encourages people to do-it-themselves with embroidery patterns, kits, and books, and she is also a widely respected creator and artist in her own right.
Here she talks about her Crafting A Business column in Venus Zine; about getting asked for business advice; about dealing with big companies (including when to walk away); and about why it’s hard to explain the DIY movement. Check it out:
Q: As with Jennifer and Tina, I’ll start with the Craft Mafia(s). How do you see the ACM at this point, and all the new Craft Mafias that seem to keep forming?
We constantly struggle with the best and most effective way for us to organize, and recently we had a meeting where we made some really important decisions about who we are at this stage. Because, several of us are no longer running businesses or have moved on to other things. We decided that at this point the group needed to continue to support the other mafias in terms of being an administration of the hub site, but we’ve never sought to be a group that dictates the structure or activities of other mafias other than some general guidelines.
Q: One thing that’s happened since we talked for the book is you’ve started writing a kind of business-advice column for Venuszine. I get the impression there’s a lot of hunger out there for business advice as people look for the way to turn their creativity into a way to make a living. Is that sort of how this column came about? Are there things about being an “indie” entrepreneur that are different from being a “traditional” entrepreneur? Read more
Today, Murketing is pleased to present the second in a series of three Q&As with Austin Craft Mafia founders who are in Chapter 13 of Buying In. Tina Sparkles built a considerable following with Sparkle Craft, which of late has been best known for her handmade, Earth-and-animal-friendly guitar straps.
Aside from the ACM, however, here she addresses a few surprising developments: On May 9, 2008 she announced she was taking her last orders for guitar straps and moving on to new things. More on that (including what went into the decision), below, as well as her thoughts about crafting and doing-it-yourself and consumption and ethics; about the pleasure of teaching others crafty skills; about why she stopped buying new clothes three years ago; and about a new book she’s working on that ties all of the above together. Here goes:
Q: Let’s start with the Craft Mafia(s). One of the things that really interested me about the ACM is I’d never quite seen an arrangement like this — you’re all independent, and your affiliation seems, to an outsider at least, to amount to sort of quasi-formalized mutual support. How do you see it at this point, and how do you think a setup like this helps the new Craft Mafias that seem to keep forming?
A: The Austin Craft Mafia is an odd magical little creature. Mostly, we are just a group of friends, a family. From the beginning we have always made decisions about our group as we went along, without any big grandiose plan about what we are or what we wanted to be and I think that has really allowed us to grow as a group organically. We tackle issues and opportunities as they come along and keep communication open and fair.
As far as other Craft Mafias are concerned, I feel like the whole bonding-together-to-have-a-bigger-voice is what attracts people to form their own groups, as well as having a localized community to support their individual endeavors.
Q: When I spoke to you while I was still writing the book, more than a year ago, you mentioned that you were considering trying to find a local manufacturer, so you could focus more on design. But now you’ve got a whole new direction — what went into your thinking on that? Read more
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