There are three large jewelry supply companies I have been buying from since 1979, 1983, and 1989, respectively. 1979 and 1989 were once known for high-quality merchandise and great customer service (at least in my dealings with them.) When I first found them, their catalogs, and their stores, I had never seen that many beads outside of my dreams. They and I have shared a long partnership and many gorgeous projects.
But every company has a life cycle, and I think these two are nearing their ends. I can see the signs, sometimes literally.
In the past few years, their catalogs have been weighted more and more toward cheaply produced and purchased ‘trash’ beads and components, and even cheaper finished jewelry. I look for certain materials that herald good-quality stores: well-drilled pearls, gemstones, and glass; good quality precious metals, along with well-finished bronze and copper. On the negative side, I look out for stores carrying a large proportion of fluorite, dyed Howlite, dyed magnesite, pewter, and acrylic beads.
The latter two can be pretty, and useful in costuming for light weight and shine…but yes, they are still base materials.
Fluorite is a lovely gemstone of mingled mint, lavender, and blue hues, but it is so soft and easily cleaved that many professional jewelers and beaders won’t touch it. The chance for later damage is too high, if it not set and/or cradled properly in a protective mount.
Howlite and magnesite (two different stones) are also very soft, but able to take wax and dye to mimic finer semiprecious gems such as turquoise, coral, jade, lapis, etc. I currently regard with deep suspicion any store that offers a wide range of the latter two stones…even if they don’t lie about the origin. These stones are simply too fragile to take much wear, and the dyes often fade or rub off.
What do I find in abundance at these two stores now? Pewter, acrylic, fluorite, howlite, and magnesite. The overall quality of everything but their very high-end merchandise has slipped. More of the formerly ‘good’ beads are cracked, misdrilled, mismatched in color batches, etc. The variety is about half of what it was a decade ago. Hungry for sales, these companies chase cheaper and cheaper products, and try to lure in customers with ‘sales’ that appear to be merely lowered from their gouging real prices. These promotions were once rare, then intermittent, then seasonal…and now, nearly all the time.
The high-spending professional customers have been largely driven off by the thrift-store atmosphere, leaving these stores to chase lower-spending and probably more credulous customers. Cue more trashy gemstones and pre-made pewter and plastic jewelry, fitting every trend they can possibly follow.
Yes, there’s been a recession on. But their competitors at Store 1983 have gone the opposite route by revamping their store and catalogs, getting financial backing, offering better products, and offering more contact and interaction with beading communities. Store 1989 may be gone within a year, and I’ll grieve for what it once was to me. Store 1979 will hold out a bit longer, since it has major customer loyalty and sponsors some well-known beading contests. But I wouldn’t be surprised if it gets bought out by a stronger competitor…possibly store 1983.
What does this have to do with art and writing? On the writing side, I hope I answered that in this Etsy Showcase post.
In the art side: I can name on just under ten fingers the art galleries I’ve been a member of, or knew about, who started trying to pay their bills with co-op memberships of (mostly) un-juried artists who were willing to pay ‘wall’ or ‘display’ fees to show their art…as well as a commission on sales. Sometimes the galleries were ambitious enough to offer studio space for rent, too.
Because the quality of the art tended to fall over time, higher-end collectors stopped coming in, leaving only the souvenir-seekers, cheap boutique shoppers, and the ‘I’m only looking’ foot traffic crowd.
Foot traffic is important, obviously. The ‘right’ foot traffic. I did great with a gallery in the heart of one of the Southwest USA’s most iconic-expensive resort towns, where 3000 wealthy people a day walked in front of the shop. In contrast, there is a co-op craft gallery opening in my home state of New Mexico that I won’t even contact: it’s miles outside of a small farmtown, has very little advertising presence, and is run by one retiree without a lot of capital or experience. I wish this person well, but not with my art.
Mostly, these co-op galleries died on the vine, either slowly with a whimper or forced out with a bang by high rents. Co-op galleries can work: if the commitment to quality art remains, if there is enough capital to fund rent, utilities, and marketing…and if the gallery spreads its offerings out over both physical and online platforms. If I see a co-op gallery now, I know to research it very carefully before I even query its owners.
Galleries are like publishers: they gather a collection of valuable works, vetted by presumed experts, for public purchase.
If your publisher cannot fund its existence on its own capital, can’t edit and format your work better than you can, and cannot market its authors effectively, it doesn’t deserve the sales money it claims from your work.