(just a quick note: I'm leaving names of people and galleries out of this.)
Almost exactly one year ago, I received a request to make 25 wine bags for a woman who saw one in a gallery space off of South Street. To say that I was excited was an understatement. I was elated to think that someone would like my creations so much, that they'd buy 25 of them to give out to family and friends as a gift! I promptly set myself to the task, working tirelessly to complete the job.
Flash forward one year later.
Lou and I set out to a gallery we both admired for their First Friday show: A photography exhibit by a wonderful local artist. I also brought along a new wine bag, tie purse, and my business cards, just in case there might have been an opportunity to talk and make an appointment to come back with more of my work. I recognized one of the store's employees almost immediately, as Lou and I have chatted with her on a previous occasion. After catching up, and thanking her for inspiring me to create more my new little business, she then introduced me to the store owner: I had such a lovely time talking with her. I was so flattered that she admired my tie purse, that after a flash of confidence, I brought out my wine bag, telling her that I was interested in displaying them in the store as well. She mentioned that there was another wine bag in the store, and went to retrieve it for me to see.
At first when I saw the wine bag, I felt like my eyes just didn't focus on it right. Then my stomach sank. Was that the fabric that my mom had given to me? Was that the tie that I picked out to go with the fabric? Was that the same exact design that I came up with? It was. It was one of the 25 wine bags that I had made for that woman a year ago.
"Oh my gosh. I made that. That's my wine bag." was all I could muster out. I turned over the price tag and saw the name of the woman I sold the bags to. I was shocked. And sad. I felt so stupid. So very stupid. How could someone take my work and put their name on it?
I ended up telling the surprised gallery owner my entire story: My excitement for the commission, my not-so-great transaction with the purchaser, and how everyone, literally everyone, kept telling me that I wasn't charging enough for the bags. Turns out that I wasn't. She didn't want to buy them to give out to family and friends: She saw a girl undercharging her handmade items, and saw an opportunity to make a buck off of them. And she did. The gallery owner and the store's employees believed me 100%, thank goodness, and I feel like they might have been just as shocked as I was. They had someone defraud them as well.
At the end of the night, Lou and I walked out to my car, where I promptly exploded into messy tears. My feelings of shock and sadness turned into disgust and anger: Not only for the purchaser, but for myself as well. Unfortunately, it put yet another dent in my faith for humanity. But I know there will be positives to come out of the whole experience. I think the gallery would really love to have my bags and purses in the shop. And I know I've made new friends there, too.
I do feel like I need to make or find another charm for my necklace. LESSON LEARNED, it should say.
