Thoughts on productivity

 

I don’t think I’m alone in occasionally feeling motivated to monetise my hobbies. I’ve been doing this intermittently since my late teens, when I used to sell applique cushion covers on Livejournal. There’s a part of me that enjoys the thrill of selling online, that something produced by my hands might be desirable enough to a stranger for them to part with money. Working almost exclusively with secondhand fabrics also adds to this excitement, taking something that may have been viewed as a waste product or discarded for being old, used or dated, and turning it into something beautiful, functional or inspiring. It’s a joy!

However, there is a dark side to these feelings. That internal pressure to turn a hobby meant for creativity and relaxation, into a business where the primary drive is to make money, can ruin the enjoyment and mindfulness of the activity. In these economic times, where people are struggling more than ever to make ends meet, I can understand the attraction to turn a hobby into a side hustle. At the peak of Craft & Thrift as a thrifted fabric shop, it was bringing in anywhere from £1000-2000 a month. Granted, these good months didn’t last long, and I had a decent amount of outgoings in the form of storage, web hosting, Etsy fees, shipping…the list goes on. Running a business, even just a side hustle, can be complex and expensive in itself. But still, it was enough additional income that I can understand why folks would be tempted to try to monetise their free time.

A set of 3 matching zippered bags made from quilted fabric

A set of 3 zippered bags I made recently as a thank you gift

I definitely go through cycles of embracing the joy of my creative practice and then feeling guilty for the time and money I spend knitting and sewing. During my phases of guilt, I tend to harbour fantasies of selling my handmade products online, in an attempt to somehow justify the time and money I spend on my hobby. “If I make X number of [insert product here], I can justify buying Y item” I'll think to myself. Although I try not to spend too much money on my sewing practice, there are sometimes products I need to buy to move a project forward. Fabric dyes, fresh thread, new sewing machine needles, there's always something running out, breaking or required to finish an item. It can sometimes feel like an indulgence, to spend money on items purely for joy. I don't NEED to sew, in the same way that I NEED new underwear or food or to pay the mortgage. And so I go through phases of trying to justify spending money on my hobbies by making (or attempting to make) the money back somehow.

I'm sure I'm not alone in these feelings, living in a capitalist society, and living through a cost of living crisis. I'm also of the age where my peers, and those younger than us, have struggled to get on the housing ladder and have taken on additional jobs or turned to side hustles to make ends meet and reach financial goals. In my IRL job, as a vet, many people (myself included) take on extra shifts, work multiple jobs or work as supply staff for other practices to make extra cash on the side. Your free time becomes a commodity to be bought and traded.

A work in progress Christmas present

I don’t want to come across as a party pooper, or to yuck anyone’s yum. If you enjoy monetising your hobby and building a business from your skills, then I salute you. I love hearing a small business story, it’s inspiring to hear of ordinary people who have built something from nothing. And I love supporting independent businesses, Etsy is my first go-to for almost all my celebration cards and gifts, plus a lot of things for my home.

I think the area where the waters muddy, is the intersection between resources spent crafting (be that time or money) and the feelings about spending those resources. And inevitably, since the majority of sewing people are women (or people who identify as such), there is a feminist argument to be made about how women justify resources spent primarily on themselves. In my anecdotal experience, men don’t feel the need to justify time or money spent on their hobbies in the same way women do. Society conditions women to expect to spend their resources, especially time, on other people. Whether it’s kids, partners, other family members or work, women often feel their needs come at the bottom of the list. And then this can lead to feelings of guilt and shame when you chose to spend those resources on yourself, which can lead to attempts to justify those resources.

A leather wallet I made recently with the intent to sell. I ended up giving them away to friends instead.

Which brings me full circle to the beginning of my story. I definitely recognise in myself, the desire to justify spending time and money on my crafting. Sometimes I try to make the money back by selling things I’ve made. Sometimes I justify the time by sewing for other people, fixing Andrew’s jeans or making gifts. “I’ve saved £X by making these gifts for Christmas”, I’ll tell myself, not factoring the time into the equation. Of course there’s an element of joy associated with mending a beloved person’s clothes, or crafting a gift. But those feelings can be enmeshed (intertwingled, as my mother-in-law would say) with guilt and obligation, “I SHOULD make gifts, I have the fabric, I can’t spend money” or “I’ll sew things for me once I’ve made this for my Mum”. And so my preferred sewing plans get bumped further down the list in favour of crafting for financial gain, or for other people.

I don’t have a neat or satisfying end to this little essay, other than to recognise that those feelings exist and to try to work through them when I see them. If they affect you too, know that you’re not alone and that ultimately, it’s the fucking patriarchy that makes us feel this way. Your time is valuable and you have a right to spend it how you see fit. On that note, I’m going to finish sewing my Pomona pants as soon as I’m done with this post.

 
Amy DyceComment