Most guilds that I know of have found that the best way to make money for the following year, or two years, is to put on a Show, sell tickets, and invite (coerce) the public to come see it. Now, this is not easy, for everybody knows that quilt shows are a LOT of work, and you need a lot of help to put it on.
Naturally, if you’ve got a good guild with a lot of enthusiastic people, you’ll have a much easier, better, more fun time putting the show on than you would if you have a bunch of slackers. You need volunteers to make the arrangements for the space, make and put up the frames, get the vendors, get the door prizes, get the food, print the programs and tickets, make things for the country store, put on the demonstrations, put up decorations, do advertising, collect the quilts, deliver them, hang them, protect them, and then return them to the people who made them. Like I said, it’s a lot of work.
One of the main jobs during the show is that of White Glove Lady (WGL). This is the person who wears white gloves and shows the backs of quilts to people, answers questions, and is there to make sure no one puts their grubby paws on the quilts. Have you ever white gloved at the Fair or at a Quilt Show? I have, and it can be an enlightening, humbling experience; especially if you hang out around your own quilts.
Some of the questions people ask the WGL are a kick. The most popular question is: “How long does it take to make a quilt?” The answer to that question varies considerably, depending upon the time of day and how much the WGL’s feet hurt. My Mother suggests the following replies:
1. “As long as it takes.”
2. “One day longer than forever.”
3. “It takes from the time I start until the time I finish.”
4. “I don’t even want to think about how long it takes.”
5. “How long did it take to build the Great Pyramids of Egypt?.”
6. Or - my personal favorite - “Longer than you’ve got, sonny.”
The truth is, because you have to take into account all the time it took to think about it, shop for it, figure out who is going to baby-sit while you go out shopping for it, and add up all the time in between your job, trips to the orthodontist and the car wash and the grocery store working on it, you have NO IDEA how long it took to make that quilt, and you probably don’t even care. It really doesn’t matter how long it took to get it done, now that it’s done.
The corollary to this question is “How much does it cost to make a quilt?” The correct answer is probably “it depends,” or “If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.”
1. How much is space worth? This means the space under the bed, in the linen closet, in your husband’s sock drawer and all the other places you have fabric stashed. How do you count the space on the dining room table, and the effort it takes to clear it all off when company comes?
2. How much is a new house worth? Do you count the cost when a quilter has gotten really serious and moved to a new house so they can have a studio, or added a studio on and built in special cupboards and tables and lights, plus built in islands and a computer for drafting patterns?
3. How much are supplies worth? In order to make a quilt, you need STUFF - you know, pins and needles and rulers and cutters and fabric and books and miles of thread and gas to go shopping - it can mount into thousands of dollars. Many quilters blatantly lie about their fabric purchases and hide plain brown paper bags of notions and batting in their trunks. They draft wills leaving their fabric to a friend, on condition that the friend comes and cleans out the sewing room before their significant other sees how much STUFF they have accumulated.
I think the true answer to the question is, “It beats me.” When people ask if I will sell them a quilt, I usually say “No,” because I don’t think I want to know how much it cost to make that quilt, and don’t want to try to figure it out to tell someone else how much they’d have to pay for it. Besides, if I did that, they’d think I was out of my mind, and I really don’t want to spend the rest of my natural quilting life in a sanitarium. If they really press me, I tell them $150 per square foot. That shuts most of them up, real quick. I have, actually, sold some quilts at that price, but they are few and far between.
Some of the comments you hear while White Gloving make you want to smack people upside the head. I heard one woman, who was looking at a lovely, cross-hatched, quilted Baltimore Bride’s quilt (not mine) ask her friend “Do you think she just sewed all that stuff on top of a mattress pad?” (Smack!) Another time, I heard someone say, “She cheated. She painted that quilt! “(That one was mine. Right, lady, I’d like to see you try it!)
As all WGL’s know, it’s not easy to put on a Show. It takes a crew of volunteers, a heap of quilts and a mind-boggling degree of organization . I swear, if our country was run with such efficiency and so little loss of limb as most quilt shows are, the national debt would be a thing of the past and the world would gasp in awestruck amazement. So, here’s to all the WGL’s, all the putter-uppers and taker-downers, all the helpers and the doers and the quilters who spend their hard-earned time, their creative energy, their loving hearts and hands to make quilts and put on a Quilt Show. We need you, we count on you, we owe you.
Face it, people; quilters are amazing and, as my Mother says, “Quilt shows were invented to make up for the fact that there isn’t any Santa Claus.” Sorry, Virginia.
Naturally, if you’ve got a good guild with a lot of enthusiastic people, you’ll have a much easier, better, more fun time putting the show on than you would if you have a bunch of slackers. You need volunteers to make the arrangements for the space, make and put up the frames, get the vendors, get the door prizes, get the food, print the programs and tickets, make things for the country store, put on the demonstrations, put up decorations, do advertising, collect the quilts, deliver them, hang them, protect them, and then return them to the people who made them. Like I said, it’s a lot of work.
One of the main jobs during the show is that of White Glove Lady (WGL). This is the person who wears white gloves and shows the backs of quilts to people, answers questions, and is there to make sure no one puts their grubby paws on the quilts. Have you ever white gloved at the Fair or at a Quilt Show? I have, and it can be an enlightening, humbling experience; especially if you hang out around your own quilts.
Some of the questions people ask the WGL are a kick. The most popular question is: “How long does it take to make a quilt?” The answer to that question varies considerably, depending upon the time of day and how much the WGL’s feet hurt. My Mother suggests the following replies:
1. “As long as it takes.”
2. “One day longer than forever.”
3. “It takes from the time I start until the time I finish.”
4. “I don’t even want to think about how long it takes.”
5. “How long did it take to build the Great Pyramids of Egypt?.”
6. Or - my personal favorite - “Longer than you’ve got, sonny.”
The truth is, because you have to take into account all the time it took to think about it, shop for it, figure out who is going to baby-sit while you go out shopping for it, and add up all the time in between your job, trips to the orthodontist and the car wash and the grocery store working on it, you have NO IDEA how long it took to make that quilt, and you probably don’t even care. It really doesn’t matter how long it took to get it done, now that it’s done.
The corollary to this question is “How much does it cost to make a quilt?” The correct answer is probably “it depends,” or “If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.”
1. How much is space worth? This means the space under the bed, in the linen closet, in your husband’s sock drawer and all the other places you have fabric stashed. How do you count the space on the dining room table, and the effort it takes to clear it all off when company comes?
2. How much is a new house worth? Do you count the cost when a quilter has gotten really serious and moved to a new house so they can have a studio, or added a studio on and built in special cupboards and tables and lights, plus built in islands and a computer for drafting patterns?
3. How much are supplies worth? In order to make a quilt, you need STUFF - you know, pins and needles and rulers and cutters and fabric and books and miles of thread and gas to go shopping - it can mount into thousands of dollars. Many quilters blatantly lie about their fabric purchases and hide plain brown paper bags of notions and batting in their trunks. They draft wills leaving their fabric to a friend, on condition that the friend comes and cleans out the sewing room before their significant other sees how much STUFF they have accumulated.
I think the true answer to the question is, “It beats me.” When people ask if I will sell them a quilt, I usually say “No,” because I don’t think I want to know how much it cost to make that quilt, and don’t want to try to figure it out to tell someone else how much they’d have to pay for it. Besides, if I did that, they’d think I was out of my mind, and I really don’t want to spend the rest of my natural quilting life in a sanitarium. If they really press me, I tell them $150 per square foot. That shuts most of them up, real quick. I have, actually, sold some quilts at that price, but they are few and far between.
Some of the comments you hear while White Gloving make you want to smack people upside the head. I heard one woman, who was looking at a lovely, cross-hatched, quilted Baltimore Bride’s quilt (not mine) ask her friend “Do you think she just sewed all that stuff on top of a mattress pad?” (Smack!) Another time, I heard someone say, “She cheated. She painted that quilt! “(That one was mine. Right, lady, I’d like to see you try it!)
As all WGL’s know, it’s not easy to put on a Show. It takes a crew of volunteers, a heap of quilts and a mind-boggling degree of organization . I swear, if our country was run with such efficiency and so little loss of limb as most quilt shows are, the national debt would be a thing of the past and the world would gasp in awestruck amazement. So, here’s to all the WGL’s, all the putter-uppers and taker-downers, all the helpers and the doers and the quilters who spend their hard-earned time, their creative energy, their loving hearts and hands to make quilts and put on a Quilt Show. We need you, we count on you, we owe you.
Face it, people; quilters are amazing and, as my Mother says, “Quilt shows were invented to make up for the fact that there isn’t any Santa Claus.” Sorry, Virginia.