01721 (Are you local?)
I asked or was asked “are you local?” a couple dozen times yesterday. It was the first farmers market (for me) of the year, and yes, it was as local as it gets - just up the road at the Ashland Farmers Market.
From a customer’s perspective, these markets might look easy to pull off. Grab a tent, a couple tables, snag a spot on the lawn, and you’re off to the races. But they’re a surprising amount of work. Especially if, like me, you’re pathologically picky.
Yes, there’s getting all the things to sell completed. But they need to be priced, tagged, listed on the website, safely packed for transport, and then unloaded and staged in the tent. Staging requires tables, display stands suitable for the size and shape of the product, and something to drape over your tables and displays (I prefer black tablecloths) to provide a pleasing backdrop for what you’re selling.
And if you’re one of these people who make things that other people look at and say “how beautiful! What would anyone ever do with it?’” (I’m one of those people), then you have to bring display items to show the use and attractiveness of your Shaker carrier, table centerpiece, or Pixie Stool. Things like small plants, vases, flowers, candy bowls… stuff that doesn’t transport well.
So yes, it’s a lot of work. So much so that usually at some point leading up to the market bell ringing (our market has a bell, thank you) I usually ask myself if it’s worth all the trouble.
But after the first few “are you local” conversations with people stopping by my tent, I realize that yes, indeed, it’s very much worth it.
The best thing about being local is all the showing up. People don’t jet in from Samarkand or Seattle just to attend a local farmers market. They’re there because they live up the street or a town over, which is one of the reasons I’m there myself. When you’re local, you show up and smell the inside of a Shaker box. You see and touch the oddly shaped legs of a Pixie Stool. You run your hands over the glassy surface of a cake stand and feel the contours of a charcuterie board (it’s ok. I don’t mind. That’s why we’re local).
“Are you local?” Then don’t worry about shipping. I’ll drop it by.
“Are you local?” My business is too, and we should do something together.
“Are you local?” Because my family needs something very special made.
I’m thankful for all the possibilities presented by bits, bytes, and pixels (which made the reading and writing of this post a reality, after all). But people are hard-wired to be local, in person, and tactile. We’re face-to-face by design. We’re made to relate tangibly with family, neighbors, and yes, even humble local artisans.
So go and be local. It’s more work, but it’s worth it.