You might think that owning a yarn shop is like owning a candy store…and you’d be right! For high stash, process knitters or crocheters it is a dream come true. We have over 600 cubic feet of shelf to fill up, not to mention the slat wall and shelf top display space. Yee-haah! So we approached making our initial orders with some deep thought and a lot of glee. We saw five reps in a weeks time, not even thinking that we could become yarn saturated. But each of them took at least five hours to show us hundreds of yarns in thousands of colors. It was like Death By Chocolate the fiber way.
Most of the reps we saw were laid back folks who let us take our time. They were patient when we dithered, informative when we asked newbie questions and supportive, so supportive. They let us ponder and confer. They let us dawdle and renege. But one rep…and you know who you are!…was different. Informative and supportive, sure, but much more focused, much more driven, much more…how shall I say it?…Bossy? Controlling? Let’s say Determined. She had dinner reservations at Long Grain and was NOT going to be late. She told us what we wanted, told us what we didn’t want, scolded us for not doing our preparatory homework, and refused to even discuss anything she thought we shouldn’t carry. She even pulled color cards out of our hands and hid them back in her copious cases.
Now, Kristin and are empowered, determined women in our own right. We are used to making decisions and making things happen. We are used to speaking our minds and having our opinions taken into account. We had been treated like pampered princesses and we expected to have our own way in our own store. We are not used to being told what to do.
As the time for the dinner reservations loomed near, our rep said, “I’m not even going to show you the buttons. You can’t possible make up your minds in such a short time. We’ll save buttons for next time.” Was that a challenge? Was that a dare? Was that a gauntlet thrown down?
As the rep took a load of color cards and samples out to her car, we dove into the button cards and…well…lost our minds. In the grandest tradition of 12 year old girls with passive aggressive issues, we tore through the sample cards making decisions on the fly based on nothing so much as whimsy and our will to prove her wrong. I could almost hear the hunting horns. I could almost feel myself fixing my metaphoric bayonet. Damn the torpedos, full speed ahead; we WILL make a button order or die in the attempt.
Fifteen minutes later, we had become Maine’s largest retailer of Renaissance buttons. We have buttons in all shapes, sizes and colors.
Cute duckies and teddy bears for baby sweaters. Sleek urban metallic and crunchy hippie carved wood. Delicate tiny buttons and dramatic oversized buttons. A line of vintage Hawai’ian Hula girls and a line of black and white famous Hollywood personality photos that we are the exclusive Maine retailers of. We have Liz Taylor, all three of the Stooges, Muhammad Ali and Che Guavera…in case you really need to make a statement.
Our rep got to her dinner on time and we are now a button destination. Impetuous? Sure. Crazy? You bet. But we showed ‘em all. Buttons? We got ‘em. So there!