The Fear of Selling
Today is MASTERPEACE Monday. It is Monday, September 23, 2024, and currently 8:40 AM. This week, we are in the process of creating my website and Etsy shop to begin selling my prints online for people to purchase. One of the things that I’m most nervous or afraid about is the actual selling portion of the entire setup.
As an artist, yes, art is subjective, and placing a value on it is also subjective. But in this case, when there’s a documented demand for a product, you’re not giving people access to the actual original thing but rather something that represents it, like prints. The challenge is you can’t necessarily put a price on that easily.
In my process of trying to figure out what size prints I should sell, how much I should sell them for, how I’ll package and ship them, and what I’ll include with the prints, I’m brought back to when I first created my brand NYKRZ (New York Kids Real Zealous). I think about that experience of starting my own brand and figuring out how to make something—a product I had created with my own hands—accessible to people who wanted to purchase and support.
I remember when I first started, I wanted to do a Founders Edition. I had this custom sweater that people really liked. They thought I should turn it into a brand because they liked the messaging and designs, and they wanted access to what was originally a one-off piece. So, I decided to make a brand out of that.
The plan was to take some blank sweatshirts, screen print the designs onto every single one, package them, include some freebies, and ship them off to customers. I planned to have a round of funding where people could purchase this Founders Edition, paying $25 for a custom-designed sweatshirt with free merchandise for six months, all packaged and shipped to them. I managed to get a few people to sign up and purchase the Founders Edition. The idea was to take that money and buy a screen-printing kit so I could print the sweatshirts myself and cover packaging and shipping costs.
However, there were a few caveats with that plan. One, I had never screen printed before—only watched countless hours of YouTube videos but never done it myself. Two, $25 per person was nowhere near enough to cover all the materials needed to fulfill those orders, nor the cost of trial and error, since it was my first time screen printing. In order for the plan to have worked, I would’ve had to nail the screen printing on the first try.
So, I took the money, bought the sweatshirts and a screen-printing kit, and that was about it. The kit came with everything from the film, screen, emulsion, and chemicals needed to burn the screen, plus a sample size of screen-printing ink. I worked on this during winter break, while staying at my parents’ apartment in New York City. Needless to say, things did not go the way I wanted or expected.
After that, I became hesitant to sell and share my work. It was embarrassing not being able to fulfill those orders and having to reach out to people to return their money. It was embarrassing to have built up such hype and then completely fall through. And it was embarrassing for that failure to be seen by my peers and friends. I even tried to bring the brand back a few times, using different methods like print-on-demand or cutting vinyl and printing myself, but nothing felt sustainable or enjoyable.
Then there’s always been this fear in the back of my mind—messing up again and being in that same embarrassing position.
When I decide that there’s something I want to sell, several thoughts go through my head. First, I always want to create a fair entry point for people, so they’re not turned off by the price but can still appreciate the value of the product. It’s important to me not to alienate long-time supporters.
With this new round of products—prints of the art I’ve been working on for the last few months—the situation is a little different. When I started my clothing brand, my target audience was my peers, the people I grew up with or had befriended, and I was only a freshman in college, so that audience was limited. Additionally, the project wasn’t something that could transcend demographics. It was essentially a losing battle from the start because my target demographic didn’t have money. They were struggling just as much as I was and didn’t have extra income to support someone’s project.
But now, my audience is different. My target demographic has jobs, has started careers, and is going on trips. They are creatives themselves, making at least supplemental money, and the overall audience I can reach is much larger.
There will always be a fear of selling and sharing my work with my audience, especially now that I’m doing it directly. With my Reebok shoe, it was different—I had the platform of Reebok, APB, and YellowBrick behind me to help reach influencers, sneaker blogs, and websites. But now, with my brand NYKRZ and what I’m doing with Masterpiece, it’s different because I have direct relationships with the people buying. The results of how this plays out could affect those relationships, either positively or negatively.
My goal is for it to have a positive effect—for people to be satisfied with the product, the shipping, and the transparency throughout the process. I want them to be so pleased with the final item they receive that they’re excited to share it with others.
I think the fear of selling is valid, but it doesn’t allow for the grace I need to give myself. I was only 18 or 19, trying to figure everything out back then. I didn’t have enough knowledge, experience, or understanding to solve those problems. Now, at 24—six years removed from that experience—I feel more prepared. I know the right questions to ask, where to search for answers, and who to reach out to for help. I believe this combination of knowledge and experience will help make this launch a success.