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Sometimes I do work for free. Does that make me a hypocrite?

Back in a previous lifetime when I worked on a student newspaper in the Canadian capital, I received a double award at the end of my year abroad: the International Correspondent Of The Year / What’s In It For Me? Award.

Apparently, in addition to my hard-nosed journalism covering the Zapatista movement in Mexico, I’d accidentally earned a reputation for only offering to review the movies and music we were sent if it was a DVD or CD I already knew I wanted (Robbie Williams’ North American debut album was a highlight).

No-one working for The Charlatan was getting paid, other than in honed journalistic skills and CV fillers. I’ve also worked for no pay on my student paper in the UK, my local newspaper in Bedford and the Evening Standard I’m London.

In this incarnation, as a weddingwear designer and dressmaker, I’ve also worked for no money. Here are some examples:

  • I made three wedding dresses for brides working in the NHS who had had to postpone their weddings because of Covid-19 lockdown. I had already decided to use the cancelled wedding season to make some sample dresses, then realised the time and fabrics would be better used for actual brides rather than my cupboard;
  • Rock n Roll Bride magazine asked me to make the Geri Halliwell inspired Union Jack cape (worn as a veil) for its ’90s icons shoot in return for a free place in the shoot (otherwise £250) plus social media inclusion and return of the cape which I wore to my child’s school Coronation party;
  • Surprise additions for customers. Sometimes I add something blue, sometimes I include a gift or embroider their cat on their dress lining;
  • I did bridesmaid dress alterations because the bridesmaid suffered from the same condition I did 30-odd years ago and I finally had the chance to pay forward the kindness shown to me then. This was a spontaneous decision when she came to collect it;
  • Any time I’ve lent something I’ve made for a TFP (trade for print) photoshoot. No-one involved in these is paid.

In all of these cases, as altruistic as I might like to think I am, there has always been something in it for me. They might not pay the mortgage, but exposure and warm fuzzy feelings do count for something.

I’ve also made costumes for Star Wars (the Andor series) at minium wage to help out a friend and because STAR WARS!

Value

The crux of what I decide to do for no pay boils down to this: whether my work is being undervalued and/or the person I’m doing it for is exercising an inflated sense of entitlement.

This week’s risible request to “create synergy” with Miss Europe Continental for Amazon Prime galvanised my thoughts. In case you missed it, the “synergy” would have seen me design and create two gowns for a contestant at my own expense and for no pay AND I would have had to pay the organisers €1,980 for the privilege of my involvement. Never mind that the project manager requesting this hadn’t noticed that I only do bridalwear.

Other requests I’ve turned down include:

  • A discount because the couple had already overspent on other wedding supplies (like it would make me feel better to know that everyone else involved in the wedding got paid their dues, just not me);
  • A discount on alterations because they were going to cost more than half the purchase price of the dress (never mind that the dress in question was an absolute steal);
  • Let’s not forget the troll who was very cross my moon veils were out of her budget.

Finally, one I did agree to a discount for but only because she caught me off-guard, very early in my career. About an hour after her fitting, she called me and asked to cut her bill by nearly 30%.

Her hen-do dress that she’d also asked me to alter was dropped off to me unwashed and with sweat stains and crusted deodorant under the arms – where I was to take it in – and fake tan covering much of the rest. She spent her next fitting on the phone to a friend, boasting about how cheaply she wangled her latest wedding supplies and how much discount she’d got from someone else.

She doesn’t know I keep a list of customers I will never work with again but it makes me feel a bit better that I do. She’s the only person on it.

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I need to talk about consent

My last blog post, confirming that I make wedding dresses etc for people of all sexes and genders, received a surprising amount of love for what I felt was simply a statement of the bleeding obvious.

So I hope I don’t lose any of that love by clarifying a couple of points. The first is about consent. When I said:

If there’s consent in your relationship, there’s no judgment, kink-shaming or awkward questions here.

I didn’t just mean consent in your relationship(s); I also meant with me.

I’ve had requests to make wedding dresses for individuals for whom wearing one is – their words – a sexual fantasy or fetish.

This isn’t an issue. Like I said, no judgment or kink-shaming here. UNLESS – and it is a big UNLESS – UNLESS you expect me to play an active role in the actual sexual experience.

There is a big difference between having me create a wedding dress with which you do what you want afterwards, and the fetishised experience of being measured, fitted and dressed in your gown – by me – for sexual gratification.

I understand that I am sexually irresistable but sorry, I’m not down with that.

Someone once called me to ask if I could provide a three-hour bridal dressing up experience – hair, make-up and all – to fulfil a sexual fantasy. I can’t whip up a wedding dress in that time (he thought I kept ready-made stock), and I don’t think he realised my studio is home-based.

Consequently, I didn’t get as far as asking what he expected me to actually be doing during this time, whether I would be there too or be sitting with my children in the next room until it was time to start the clean-up.

There are companies that provide such fantasy dress-up experiences, and I found one to recommend to him. If you’re interested, it was in Brighton but it was pre-Covid and I forget the name. You can Google it. Maybe don’t use your work laptop.

Anyway, I appreciate he actually asked me, i.e. sought my consent.

Unlike the next chap.

I can’t get into the psychology of flashers but this one felt one step away as he forced details of his fantasy on me (and several of my dressmaker friends is turned out), heavy breathing and sneering down the withheld number.

It started routinely enough: could I make two matching dresses. Of course.

One for his mum. Absolutely.

The other for him. No problem.

Because he enjoyed dressing up with her in her underwear and… I missed whatever the next bit was in all the heavy breathing and the sneering.

I think – I hope – I disappointed him by not being outwardly shocked. Instead I told I’d be very happy to, thanked him for being brave enough to share such personal details and that I’d be happy to send him payment details for the booking fee. But I’m still angry that he forced a sexual experience (for himself) on me without my consent, and did so again with others.

Anyway, I digress as I doubt this was actually a genuine inquiry. So, on to those.

Hit me with yours.

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The Troll Didn’t Like What She Asked For

And she’s back. (If you missed the first two blog posts on my first troll experience, I have deeply upset a bride to be by charging more than $100 for my veils.) Below is her return volley to my explanation of how I arrive at the prices for my work.

Indeed, I hope I never forget this one. 😉

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The Troll Asked For It

Literally. My post yesterday saw the final missive from my troll asking me to justify my prices but doubting I would be so transparent.

Challenge accepted. Here’s how I responded and she can’t say she didn’t ask for it.

👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹

You ask a very good question, because it’s almost impossible to say precisely what each item costs to make – the “cost of sale” in accountancy terms. There are a lot of costs that have to be averaged out between all the things I make in, say, a year, and this number changes all the time (especially at the moment). What I can say for sure is that the cost of sale is more than just the cost of the fabric, thread and a comb. Below is a, I think, hypothetical illustration which I first saw as being about a builder being asked to quote for a project but I’ve adapted it to make it more relevant to us:

A CONVERSATION ABOUT PERCEIVED VALUE
Next time someone asks me why I charge what I do 
A customer asked me to create my This Is Not A Phase veil.
I gave them a quote of $280.
The customer responded: “That’s seems really high.”
I asked: “What do you think is a reasonable price for this veil?”
The customer answered: “$100 maximum.”
I responded: “OK, then I invite you to do it yourself.”
The customer answered: “I don’t know how to.”
I responded: “All right then, for $100 I’ll teach you how to. In addition to saving some money, you’ll learn valuable skills that will benefit you in the future.”
The customer answered: “Sounds good! Let’s do it!”
I responded: “Great! To get started, you are going to need some tools. You will need at least one embroidery machine ($1,300; annual maintenance $100, although the one I REEEEAAALLY want is $11k), an overlocker ($300, annual maintenance $50), embroidery software ($900), a large cutting mat (mine is 97″ x 50″, $350), a rotary cutter ($30), a tape measure, scissors, pins, needles, an iron and ironing board.”
The customer answered: “But I don’t have any of those tools and I can’t justify buying all of these for one veil.”
I responded: “OK. Well, for an additional $20 I can rent my tools to you to use for this project.”
The customer answered: “OK. That’s fair.”
I responded: “Great! We will start teaching you on Monday after we buy the $30’s worth of fabric, thread and water-soluble stabiliser.”
The customer answered: “I work Monday through Friday. I’m only available on the weekends.”
I responded: “If you want to learn from me, it will have to be during my working hours. I spend my weekends working on commissions, paperwork, admin, marketing and exhibiting at wedding fairs (when we’re not in  a pandemic of course) in between looking after my two children. I work seven days a week.”
I continued: “To create this veil from start to finish will take about two days, so you will need to take two days off work.”
The customer answered: “That means I’m going to have to sacrifice my pay for two days or use my vacation time!”
I responded: “That’s true. Remember, when you do a job yourself you need to account for all factors. It isn’t just fabric and thread.”
The customer answered: “What do you mean by that?”
I responded: “Making a veil or wedding dress completely from start to finish includes time spent to plan the design, source fabrics, threads and embellishments, travel time, electricity, time for cutting, pattern making, sewing, embroidering, soaking (to dissolve the stabiliser), embellishing, edging, packaging, storage space for rolls of fabric, clean up and waste disposal amongst other things. So, we will start learning how to use the embroidery machine on Monday at 8am.”
The customer answered: “But that is so soon, surely that won’t take more than an hour or two.”
I responded: “It took me a year of practising to learn how to make them and several hours in paid classes. I estimate it will a full day to to embroider the seven moons on your veil – once you have the knack. Then we’ll add the comb and embellishments. They are going to cost you approx. $20. In addition to this you will have to get a public liability insurance ($400) and professional indemnity insurance ($400) and pay the Information Commissioner’s office $20 to stay registered, which is a legal requirement.”
The customer answered: “You know, I’m realising that a lot more goes in to a veil than what a customer sees in the finished product. Your quote of $280 is very reasonable. I would like to book you to create my veil.

CONCLUSION:
When you pay for a job, especially a custom job, (whether it’s a physical project or digital project) you pay not only for the material and the work to be completed. You also pay for:
✔️Knowledge
✔️Experience
✔️Custom skills
✔️Tools
✔️Time to plan
✔️Time to prepare
✔️Professionalism
✔️Work ethic
✔️Excellence
✔️Discipline
✔️Commitment
✔️Integrity
✔️Taxes
✔️Licences
✔️Sacrifices
✔️Liabilities
✔️Insurance
Please don’t disrespect a service provider by trying to get them to lower their prices.
If their proposal exceeds your budget, there’s nothing wrong with getting other proposals.
Just remember, you get what you pay for.

SERVICE PROVIDERS: Know your worth and be confident in it.
CONSUMERS: Recognize their worth and be respectful of it.
Sharing this to support all my friends, family and clients who are entrepreneurs, business owners and radesman.

… and I’m back. I appreciate that was rather long. In addition to the extra costs in that example, Etsy takes 15% ($42 in this case) of every sale I make on its platform and PayPal takes a further cut (there are fees and hosting costs for sales through my own website too), I also include the packaging and international shipping in the price ($20). There’s also the cost of marketing: my regular magazine ads vary from $60-$350 per month, wedding fair exhibiting fees ($250-$4,500 per event) sponsored posts on social media (around $100 per month) plus the time and expertise that goes into creating the content (arranging styled shoots in collaboration with other wedding professionals – for no payment), writing blog posts and other social content (I spent nearly 20 years as a professional PR writer and consultant before starting my dressmaking business six years ago).

So. If you still insist on looking no further than the cost of the materials, I could send you three metres of ivory tulle, some lengths of thread (five kinds), a pack of embellishments and a comb. Then maybe you could tell me what you think my work is worth. 😊

Holly xx

👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹

Something she wouldn’t need, but still comes in rather handy for me in my business sometimes, is that I have learned to speak semi-fluent German and Japanese (most of the latter sadly now forgotten after a couple of fallow decades), functional French and a smattering of Spanish and Russian.

So yes, I absolutely and unapologetically will target my work to those who can afford it. If I don’t value myself, I can’t expect others to.

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I Get Tickled by a Troll

I have MADE IT. Two very exciting, seminal, touchstone moments happened yesterday, both sparked by my moon-phase veil (This Is Not A Phase, pictured):
1. I received my first order through my brand new online shop;
2. I encountered my first troll.

This Is Not A Phase moon veil by Holly Winter Couture in ivory and silver Chapel length
Trip-trap, trip trap, over the bridge 🐐

This veil has received a lot of love, for which I am very grateful. But one person’s love for it quickly descended into something else. This is the message I received, in full:

I KNOW you shouldn’t feed the trolls. But I had obviously made someone very angry so I compulsively sent her a little love:

Now I know WHY you shouldn’t feed the trolls; I received this:

Troll

And this:

Do not feed the trolls

Continuing in a new screengrab:

Troll

And another:

Troll

Thank you for making it this far. I admit that this subsequent essay rattled me. I have mentally drafted several responses and justifications for how I set my prices and they all involve fundamental economics, detailed accountancy, my latest tax return and a spreadsheet so I will spare you all of them. You’re welcome.

Instead, while anyone involved in planning a wedding (actually, anyone generally) is having a tough time riding out the pandemic, I will take a small measure of success wherever I find it. 👹💕

Edited to add, for the record, payment methods I accept are cash, credit/debit cards, bank transfer, PayPal and, if you really have to, cheque, but not severed limbs (they stain my lovely fabrics) and DEFINITELY not babies.