Well, you’ve done it to me again. I’ve been ‘martha’d’ for the umpteenth time.
Your November issue found its way to my mailbox. I flipped through it when I had a few moments of quiet. Not expecting to be sucked in by another one of your infamous ‘crafts’.
But, there it was. On page 152.
Cruel, cynical person that I am, my first instinct was to LAUGH at the proposed glitter pet portraits. Currently petless, I imagined emailing my mom and asking her for a picture of her cat. And then turning the picture into glitter art. Which I’d mail to her as a (gag) gift.
Would she display it? Hide it? Why would anyone want a glitter painting of their pet? Even if mounted on foam core with a lovely grosgrain ribbon border in a complementary color.
BUT. And there’s always a but. Then I flipped to page 156. And saw the cards. Maybe not a pet portrait. But perhaps a shadow box with a glitter photograph of my home? (Except it’s not really MY home). Or maybe a Christmas card with a glittery nature scene?
And, within the hour, I was at Michael’s, chomping at the bit to pick up the lengthy list of suggested supplies. Except your ‘fine glitter in assorted colors’ kit costs $40. I could only imagine the height of the professor’s eyebrows if I told him I’d spent $40…on glitter. For the purpose of making glitter cards. The word preposterous came to mind.
Savvy shopper that I am, I decided to use a 50% off coupon that I had. Though it meant waiting three days – until the 25th. All weekend long I thought of the ‘fine glitter’ kit I was going to buy. For half off. Patting myself on the back for my awesome frugality.
I daydreamed about making all of my Christmas cards by hand. Maybe opening my own glitter card business. Not really.
At 4.45pm, I arrived at Michael’s, with my coupon in hand. Do you know what happened, Martha?
Apparently all the the other magazine subscribers in Calgary got the same issue and ran to Michael’s to get their ‘fine glitter in assorted colors’ kit. There was not a single one left.On Thursday there’d been five or six. On Sunday, none.
Also, there was a 25% off sale. So, even if there had been a kit on the shelf, I couldn’t have used my coupon – it’s only valid for ‘regular priced’ items. No double dipping in the discounts at Michael’s.
So I did what any reasonably minded individual would do. I bought four containers of glitter. Spending more than I would have for the whole (discounted) kit. I haven’t mentioned that fact to the professor, yet.
I bided my time until my two year old was safely ensconced in his crib. I sat at the table with my five year old, envisioning the awesomeness that was about to occur.
Except it wasn’t awesome. It was annoying. Glitter is perhaps the most invasive of craft materials. It cannot be confined, no matter how careful the crafter tries to be. Unless of course you have a hermetically sealed craft room. Which, you probably do.
But I don’t. I have a dinner table. In the middle of my house. And ‘fine’ glitter is even more invasive than regular (cheap) glitter. Within about five minutes, the rugs in my hallway resembled a glistening sandy beach at twilight. My eight week old baby had glitter in his eyebrows. Which, admittedly, only enhanced the brightness of his eyes. But still. The professor and I looked like shinier, less dewy versions of Britney Spears. (Before she had kids and married Kevin Federline and shaved her head).
Even the two year old, who wasn’t present at the festivities, ended up with glitter on his upper lip.
The cards we made…..were fine, I guess. Of course, once they’re mailed to their intended recipients, all the glitter will end up in the envelope anyway. I’m just guessing.
So here’s a suggestion for you. I know these are tough economic times. And magazines are shutting down faster than you can say ‘Domino, Wondertime, Gourmet and Cookie’. And adding to your staff is probably not in the budget right now.
But, because I think it would be such a valuable addition to your magazine, I’ll offer my services for free. At least initially. My ‘why your proposed good thing is….a bad thing’ services.
As you’re sitting around your weekly planning meetings, sharing ideas for crafts in future issues, I could conference in via Skype and be the naysayer, the devil’s advocate, the voice of reason. You’d say ‘glitter’ I’d say ‘impossibly horrendous clean-up’. You’d say ‘superglue sculptures’ I’d say ‘costly emergency room bills’.
Trust me, it would be a good thing.