Blueberry Lemonade Necklace; Thoughts on Value

Blueberry Lemonade Necklace. Silk.

I’m reading the discussion of perceived value on LinkdIn, which starts with a quote from Japanese Economist Noriko Hama:

“When you buy something cheap, you lower the value of your own life.”

…I buy that. {I also crack myself up} Pricing is the issue that haunts all artists, & value is an even more nebulous issue. I work with perceived value materials: precious stones, sterling & fine silver, gold. Our world gives these things value that goes beyond their physical properties. Your brain will automatically classify rubies & diamonds above garnets & quartz, without giving it a second thought. Forget that you can buy some rubies for a dollar and some cuts of quartz – which is a much larger range than you know – can cost hundreds of dollars. These things are relative.

The trick is apparently to price so that you’re paying yourself an hourly wage & covering the cost of your materials. From there? No one seems really comfortable talking about it. I’ve worked for boutiques that marked their retail prices at six times what they paid the artist/vendor they bought it from. In pricing & selling my own work, I don’t have to worry about the retail cost of things – except that I do. If I end up selling my work through a gallery or boutique, they’ll take 50%. I also need to make sure that people will want to buy my work, which as it is really doesn’t represent my full aesthetic or skill set. I’m just starting out. I almost feel as though I shouldn’t be selling my work right now, because I’m just not there yet.

That’s a silly concern, though – as though I’m turning away buyers. I do crack myself up.

In pricing to my insecurity, I run the risk of lowering a piece’s value simply by making it affordable. In class last weekend, a girl whose work I love made another excellent point: “If I’m pricing to my tax bracket, I may never make any money at all”.

So I’m struggling with pricing. I’m looking at Twist, where the pricing includes the name of the artist; you’re buying the prestige of wearing their name. There are pieces made from knotted silk & rocks that are several hundred dollars. {The same logic that makes a sterling necklace from Tiffany & Co. $300+} There’s the experience, too: Anthropologie has this down. They have zero advertising, and you only get their catalog if you subscribe, implying you have already found them through the dark underground of Anthro addicts….or, if you buy your niece a gift card for Christmas….sorry Uncle Steve, you will be getting Anthropologie catalogs until the end of time. The point with Anthropologie is that you’re not buying a piece of jewelry or a dress, you’re buying a lifestyle. You’re buying a ready-made look, which is made unique by nature of the cost – not everyone can afford to have a complete wardrobe from their store. I barely scrape by, & I’ve managed with a number of pieces found used, but I’ve also spent money I didn’t have in order to buy into their life. I think about this when I’m pricing my own work; I’m not empowered to make other women spend money they don’t have, but I know that people do; can I be held responsible for that? Probably not, but I’ve never been comfortable with the money aspect of retail.

But if I were pricing for my tax bracket, I’d never make any money.

My jewelry is worked out on the foundation of my aesthetic, which is simple, organic, clean, and classic. {Find me a designer that says their work is anything else.} I’m trying to make something organic and beautiful out of a pile of silk, silver and stones, of varying perceived & actual value, with a skill set that’s still growing.

I don’t know how to describe what I’m looking for when I look for materials; I probably have a better developed sense of the materials I want than skills to work with them. In the end, I’m looking for stones that speak to me. When I see them, something clicks.

It’s a lot like fashion; when you look for clothes, you go right to some pieces, right past others. Some just make you shudder.

I don’t have an answer yet. All I can do is keep making jewelry, failing faster as Shawn says. Sometimes I hit upon something that clicks. Say hello to my newest project:

Prehnite is apparently useful as an aid in meditation. While wearing it, I was able to juggle a purse, hot coffee, a glass of lemonade, and a pound of Strawberry Daiquiri Jelly Belly’s four blocks, up and down escalators and stairs….this is lot more than I typically can manage without some sort of epic disaster. Maybe it gave me inner calm, keeping me from spilling hot coffee on myself? Not a bad thing to hope for, even if it is psychosomatic.

Don’t ask about the Jelly Belly’s.

Thanks to everyone who sent me messages of support since my first piece went up for sale! Let me know what you think of the silk piece in this post; I’m thinking of making more.

♥ Momo

Leave a Reply