A Rose By Any Other Name

I began my business back when I was barely old enough to sign a legal document.

I walked right in and signed a complicated 30 page, five year lease that might as well have been in Greek for all I understood.  

It didn't matter that the rent was more each month than the total I had in the bank.

It didn't matter that this huge, empty storefront was so big that all the inventory I owned or could afford to buy wouldn't fill half the space.

I wanted an antique shop, and I was on my way.

I was excited . . . I was ambitious,

I was eager . . . 

 I made just about every mistake a girl could make.

When I was a child I had a voracious reading habit and read everything I could get my hands on. 

 I was thrilled by independent women and women who took charge of their own destiny.

I was going to be one of those women.

I also had a great talent for memorizing what I read, 

and a penchant for memorizing epic poems and things like 

The Declaration of Independence,

 and so many lines of famous literature.

When I decided to open this antique shop,

 I wanted the emphasis to be

  linens and quilts.

It made perfect sense to me when a line from Robert Louis Stevenson's poem came to mind and stuck in my brain.

'When I was sick and lay abed

I had two pillows at my head 

And all about me dale and plain'

The pleasant land of Counterpane.

Now, in our family, we knew what a counterpane was.  

(Doesn't everyone?)

The word is Old English.

It was the bedspread that topped your bed.  It covered all the blankets and sheets and was purely decorative and was often the "fancywork" showpiece made by a bride to bring to her wedding bed.

I decided to call my shop The Counterpane, and to always have the most beautiful quilts, coverlets and bedspreads among my antique treasures.

It was a lovely, romantic notion.

Remember that I was the oldest daughter, of the oldest daughter, of the oldest daughter, of the oldest daughter of the oldest daughter.

Five generations living in the same town, sharing history and stories and vocabulary.  

My great great Grandmother Evans could tell stories of her great great grandmother.

We had words and expressions and memories from more than 150 years of women,

 passed down and cherished.

Duh.

Apparently

I was the only living person, (beside my family members), in South Florida who had any idea what the word meant.

I sort of shot myself in the foot before I even opened the shop doors.

"Huh?  What kind of a shop is that?"

People must have been truly baffled. 

Months after I opened, a shop owner in the mall asked me why I had chosen such a dumb name that had no meaning for anyone.

(His shop was called The Artful Framer, a play on words from Dickens' Artful Dodger.)

I blushed and told him he should broaden

his reading skills.

The good news is that the shop flourished and grew and prospered and enabled me to achieve many of my other dreams in life.

But, no thanks to the handicap I had placed upon it from the start.

One of the keys to a healthy business start-up is in the name.

A name tells potential customers who you are and what you do and gives them a reason to walk in your door.

A name shouts out from your signage that you exist and are open for business.

A name defines the business . . . telling the world you have goods and services they desire!

My name sounded like maybe you were going to be injured when you came to the counter!

Not an auspicious beginning Joy!

There was one advantage to this ambiguous name . . . 

I'll never forget the day a line of ladies were checking out at the counter . . . 

One said, "My husband is beginning to wonder why your shop is listed for every other check I write in our checkbook."

The lady behind her remarked, "My husband asked the same question . . . I told him this was the deli where I get his lunch meat."

These husbands were going to be shocked when they found out who I was.

All this to say,

 there are easier ways to succeed in business and

there are harder ways to succeed in business!

I can recommend many tips for success based on my early days of trial and error!

Stay tuned as Joy continues to explore business!

Think You've Got What It Takes?

You think you've got what it takes? 

This isn't for the faint of heart.

If you've been following along, you know I'm talking about finding your

R E A L   J O Y

in life,

namely,

 getting to do

every day

what you love

most.

For me, that's retail.

The wonderful world of seeking out,

gathering together,

displaying,

presenting

and

selling

the incredible ideas, products and services

that your

customers 

desire.

Watching them come back

again and again

and invest in you!

My specialty is in retailing - in a brick and mortar storefront

and 

building an incredibly loyal customer base

that loves what I can do for them.

If you've been dreaming about being in charge of your life,

of being your own boss

and

creating your own lifestyle

then follow along.

While retailing is not for everyone,

it just may be that you have what it takes.

Did you recognize yourself in the first two posts in this series?

Did you nod your head and think, "yep - that's me"?

Did you score well in the test on the previous blog?

You may be ready to embark on the most wonderful and exciting journey of your life!

I hear you - "it's intimidating, scary, overwhelming, a really big step" . . . .

IT IS!

There's no denying it - the energy and resources you'll invest will be greater than you've ever imagined.

That's why you shouldn't try it alone, or with less than adequate training and guidance.

Like flying a jet full of passengers,

you will have more success with the advice and coaching of an experienced professional.

When you have someone who's travelled the path successfully guiding you through the process,

it needn't overwhelm or defeat you.

Perhaps you've been in business for a while and are floundering . . . 

wondering why some shops are flourishing while yours is merely existing.

Sales may be lagging, customers lethargic, the competition looking fierce.

You have an opportunity to follow along and examine a multitude of ways you can improve your level of appeal, traffic, sales, business revenue, satisfaction and customer loyalty.

We will explore it all!

There's a

 R E A L    J O Y

in doing what you do so well that your customers recommend your business to their friends and family.

There's a 

R E A L    J O Y

in having testimonials from your customers - every day.

There's a 

R E A L    J O Y

in meeting  lots of "first time" new customers every day.

There's a 

R E A L   J O Y

in knowing your business is growing and thriving

 and you can breathe deeply and feel 

truly blessed.

If you think it might be time for you to take a step toward your 

R E A L    J O Y

follow along. 

Today, we're going to examine your 
CONCEPT
Lets talk about what you think you have to sell the world.

Who are you?
What's your concept?
Who cares?
What research have you done in this area?
What makes you think that you should open a shop?
Who else sells this same product/service?
Have they succeeded?
How will you do it better?
Who would become your customer?

Let's hear your answers.
Really!
Get out your pencil and answer these questions before you go any further.

This is the way I started out, nearly forty years ago:

Who are you?

I'm Joy, and I love antiques and history and home decorating.  I've studied and practiced what I love, and people say I'm good at it!

I have a penchant for turning the ordinary, boring, run of the mill room into a desirable, WOW space that people are excited to call their own.  

What's your concept?

Everyone who likes home decorating is looking for something that expresses who they are and how they want the world to perceive them.  They're bored with shopping the existing home furnishing and decor stores, because these venues don't offer enough items that are unique, original or exciting.

Who cares?

People I'm talking to have expressed an interest in sourcing unique, exciting home decor like they've seen in my home and in the homes I've helped style for family and friends.  The problem - They're not finding what they want, or can't quite envision what they can do to give their house a vibrant and "one of a kind" look!!!!

What research have you done in this area?

I've visited scores of home decor stores, large and small, chains and 'mom&pop' shops, and conversed with shop owners and salespeople about what their best selling items are and what customers are seeking that they can't find anywhere.  

What makes you think that you should open a shop?

Friends and family, and owners of and guests in the homes I've styled, have asked for my contact info, because they want me to help them restyle their homes.  They want to get that special look.  They say I should have a shop where they can come and purchase the sort of unique items I've procured.  They love what I do and wish they had access to my style.  When I mention what I do, people clamour to learn more and they ask for my advice.  They love the items I'm showing them.

Who else sells this same product/service?

Interior Designers provide a similar service, but on a one on one basis - and they can be a little intimidating and more pricey because of the time they invest.  Antique shops are often filled with great old things, but not with an eye to what their customers are seeking.  No shop exists in my area that does what I want to do, on a personal level.

No one around has a retail shop where interesting antique items have been chosen for their originality, personality and usefulness.

Big stores in the area try . . . but . . . 

Have they succeeded?

They can satisfy a lot of people, but not the niche group that I'm focused on.  The big stores have ignored this strata of customers, because it demands personal searching which is more time consuming and customer oriented than they can be.  They can't stock a big store with the hand picked antiques I'm talking about.

How will you do it better?

I've got a knack for identifying and sourcing one of a kind and antique items that create excitement and desire with people in my area.  I want to get to know my customers and then buy the things that express their personalities.  I want to offer more personalized service.  I want to share the story behind each piece I have for sale. I love to bring history to life, I want to cherish and re-use and bring new life to old objects.

Who would become your customer?

I believe a large number of the customers who shop in the local home decor super stores are less than satisfied, with service, product quality and choice of merchandise.  I believe half of them would prefer the chance to shop in a smaller, more personal environment and to deal with the owner.  I think antiques lovers will become my customers, as well as home decorators.  I believe people of any age or income can appreciate what I want to present.


Apply these questions to your concept and think about your answers.
Do you have a great concept?
  
Stay tuned for the next installment
of
finding your
R E A L   J O Y

Where I Began . . . The Real Joy Hunt

I remember a time
when I was working at a job I really didn't love.

I was young, and needed to earn a living and the job was there and I took it.

But

it wasn't what I really wanted to do.

I had this job, and was good at doing it,

but it didn't satisfy the craving in my heart for the creative yearnings that were nested there.

Because no one had ever taught me that I could follow my heart's desire.

I learned at a very young age to dutifully do the things that were set before me
to do them well
and to be thankful that I had the ability to work and live a good life.
I was healthy and strong and smart and able.

There were things you should do in life, and I had obediently fallen into one of them and was working diligently to be very good at it.

The problem was,

it went against the grain.

It wasn't an outpouring of my natural talents and abilities and loves.

I wasn't following my heart.

It was an insurance company sort of position.

(I was good with crisis management, and numbers and with people - no denying - but this was boring.)

Meanwhile,

I was newly married, furnishing a new home, and for fun I was picking antiques for my aunt's shop.

My grandmother and I would travel the backroads scouring barns and out buildings, farm sales and auctions, tagsales and thriftshops,

seeking the wonderful items the shop needed.

The thrill of the hunt!
The
  real joy
was my weekends of exploring and finding treasure.

My grandmother was coaching me to dig through, pick over and unearth hidden treasure.

Ah . . . the thrill of finding a hidden diamond in a barn of old rusty tools, cracked leather harnesses and burlap feedsacks!

She was a pro when it came to the negotiation of prices.

Integrity, consideration, politeness, balance of power.

Grandmother was a diplomat.

I would often find a treasure for my new house!

A huge old wood bowl, a collection of soft, timeworn linen dishtowels, 

a leather bound book from the Civil War era, a chippy ironstone pitcher . . . 

The weekends and vacations spent doing what I loved were enough to assuage my growing boredom with the work week . . . 

for awhile.

There were times I daydreamed about the next jaunt into the Tennessee mountains

 to do what I'd rather be doing.

Just touching a 100 year old oak splint, egg gathering basket could set my mind to imagining the life it had seen.

Was it there when the Civil War was being fought?

Was it fashioned by the hands that had to leave to go to war?

Was it used by a young widow who never saw her spouse come home?

History was my passion - and it was fueled by the simple, beautiful, handmade items of yesteryear.

Made of necessity

used daily

tenderly cared for

long living

story telling

food for the soul

I wished I had more time to spend learning about and being immersed in this kind of living history.
This was the
  real joy
of my life!

I wished . . .

And I kept on working away at my day job
because no one had ever told me I could follow my heart.

This was what real life - "grown up" life - was all about.
You did whatever you had to do to get to the reward of what you'd really love to be doing when there was time.
We all knew that.



Until things changed.

Follow the saga of finding
YOUR
real joy!

Cooking In A Snow Storm

In my previous blog post I told y'all that I am trying 

Door To Door Organics

a local company

 that delivers all organic products to my door.

(Hence that catchy name.)

I got home Wednesday and there were my two perfect boxes

all insulated with ice packs.

I found everything I'd ordered, clean, cold, wrapped meticulously and perfectly packed.  

Eight Meals

This afternoon I began by browning organic beef and putting it into my slow cooker

with carrots and potatoes to simmer into a hearty beef stew with organic beef broth.

It appears I will have enough for 8 servings, so I'll refrigerate several portions and freeze some in lunch/supper sizes.

I usually end up making vegetable soup with several of these by adding whatever fresh veggies I have on hand which stretches even further.

Two Meals

I preheated my oven, breaded my organic pork chops and washed my yams.

Into the oven it all went.

Eggs went into a pot to hard boil for some lunches.

Steamed some organic broccoli.

Washed and cored my apples and prepped them to go into the oven

 when the chops and yams came out.

I now have two pork chop suppers with yams, broccoli and baked apples.

I sampled the yams while I waited for the apples, and I can truly say I haven't tasted any as sweet and delicious as these since I was a child in the south, and we grew our own.

Eight More Meals

Tomorrow, I'm making a white bean, kale and sausage soup . . . . and will top it with freshly grated Parmesan.  (Organic - don't you know?)

  Great with croutons made from my organic whole grain bread and butter and garlic. 

Apparently,

I,

 who am cooking only for one most of the time,

 and who loves to eat out with friends several times a week,

now have 18 meals on hand.

Not to mention, salads with avocados and the most delicious tomatoes I've eaten in years.

Not to mention the organic pears I'm adding to salads with crumbled bleu cheese and walnuts.

Not to mention the eggs and toast and half and half and breakfast items.

Do you know that there is such a thing as 

organic bacon?

Yes, Virginia 

there

 IS

 fresh, Colorado, grain fed, humanely grown, free range, organic, happy bacon.

Next week's offerings just popped into my email inbox.

I'm ordering salmon and chicken 

and 

I'll let you know how that works out.

P.S.

My juicy, tender, thick, crisp,

pork chop supper is

 AWESOME!

Now, being the sort of borderline skeptic that I am about new things . . .

I'm still waiting to figure out how this is all going to fall apart and somehow disappoint me.

Stay tuned.

Photos I've Collected

Over the years I have amassed a huge box of old black and white photos.  

I 

mean

HUGE

I have family scrapbooks

 and

 photos I've bought at antique shops

 and

 those I've found at estate sales

 and 

many that have apparently just attached themselves to me

 in some magnetic and random fashion. 

I love history and fashion

 and 

studying the way people lived a hundred or more years ago,

but

really

where did all these photos come from?

I have primarily photos of women and children.

There are hard faced, tough, prairie women

and

sweet, hopeful brides

and

careworn, weary mothers with eight or ten children gathered round them.

I have gun slinging gals

and

nuns

and

sets of sisters with starched pinafores.

There are curls

 that some momma rolled up in rags the night before

 and fussed over for hours

while a patient papa blacked his boots

 and slicked down his hair, wishing his stiff collar was not choking him.

I've got a truckload of  straight laced, prim and proper matrons,

posed in formal studio settings

with several generations of progeny staring somberly at the camera.

They wear their best clothing, tight, starched and uncomfortable.

There are families who've included their strutting chickens, huge hogs and favorite horse

in their photo

presumably to impress or reassure kinfolk back east that they had made it out west and were prospering just fine on the prairie.

There are women mountain climbing

and

women sightseeing

and

a woman posing with her prize mule.

I'm not quite sure how I came by all these,

or

what I want to do with them,

but

apparently

I can't get rid of them.

There's something so poignant and appealing

about the history these photos hint at

that

I'm holding onto them

just for the pleasure 

of

imagining

what stories

they might tell!

Finding My Calling

Part of my

  Antiques By Joy

business is home styling.

I visit the home of a client and tweak the look they're going for.

Sometimes they have no idea about what they want, and I have free reign.

Often they say,

"I want it to feel like your shop."

My mother says I began my styling career at the age of 4,

and

 I can recall some of the projects I conned her into.

I dreamed up a bedroom that had purple and lavender

(1957 - and where did I get that idea at age 4?)

T.V. was still in black and white.

Not that we owned one.

She tried to dissuade me,

(apparently there was no purple she liked, 

or,

 no purple in her fabric stash).

She compromised with curtains and dust ruffle

 of 

a delicate white cotton printed with tiny lavender rosebuds

and

(I insisted)

 a

 vivid purple

 throw pillow.

Mind you she made these herself, because that's what our family did.

I recall regularly 

haunting the fabric store with her . . . 

a 40 minute walk from our house,

where we would browse for hours

 and 

dream of the possibilities!

When I was about 6, we walked to the store to purchase fabric for a new outfit 

for me.

I will never forget the excitement of entering that big old fashioned place,

breathing in the aroma 

taking in the colors

and hearing her incredible words,

"you may choose ANY fabric you want,

as long as it's not over thirty nine cents a yard"

... remembering an

 angel choir . . . .

By 12 years old I was living in a world that was changing.

(NOT in my little world, but in the bigger sense.)

The Hippie movement brought tie die and psychedelic and neon intensity to our color world.

Being the worldly, well read 12 year old that I was, 

my design sense was evolving, and I wanted

MORE!

There was no decorating budget to prevail upon for my room

so

I had to improvise.

I plowed through my mother's extensive collection of bargain fabrics,

(friends often gifted her the remnants of their projects because she was "crafty"),

and came up with a hunter green burlap and some hot pint print and began to picture the contrast they would create beside one another.

It wasn't quite the psychedelic combo I needed,

but

when I unearthed the next component,

a chartreuse gem,

(Oh the 50's were a heyday for chartreuse!!!),

I knew I was on to something!

I rummaged about and found the ultimate fourth:

turquoise with a touch of chartreuse!

Bingo!

I patiently upholstered my hand me down dresser

and even trimmed it in chartreuse prairie points

 I cut from a school folder I found in that color, 

using recycled upholstery tacks I scrounged.

(Stop laughing!)

I pleaded for a gallon of intensely pink saturated-hue paint.

Now this was serious - we didn't paint much at our house, because paint was expensive, 

but after much pleading I got that paint with my babysitting money.

Fifty cents an hour was what I earned, and that included doing household chores while babysitting.

We dragged my little area rug out to the back yard and using our big zinc wash tub, dyed the rug hot pink with Rit Dye from the local Five and Dime.

Oh, I was on  a roll!

Ultimately, I conned my mother into letting me have the "pole lamp" from our living room.

It had filigree ball shades at three heights, and cast the most enchanting shadows.

That evening, breathing a sign of almost complete contentment, I had my final brainstorm.

My parents were out and I knew just what I wanted to accomplish.

I dug around in the utility closet where we stored the Christmas decorations and found

 three red light bulbs.

Installing the red bulbs and flipping the switch, I melted into my hot pink/chartreuse/turquoise

haven

and simply revelled in the creation!

When I awoke in the morning, I discovered my dad had replaced the red bulbs with normal ones.

His reprimand was that he didn't want me using the Christmas ones.

(About 10 years later it dawned on me what that was all about.)

I don't believe I've ever had so much fun as I did with that decorating project.

And that was the day I

 KNEW

I had found my calling.

Filing And Sorting and Shovelling Oh My

It's the first day of February, 

and I'm catching up on filing and paperwork.

I'm living the 

GOOD LIFE!

There is always

 too much

 of that filing and sorting and shredding and organizing

and

never quite enough time to do it properly.

It's not my favorite thing to do

by far

and so I tend to let it pile up until the pile topples over

and

I fear that if anyone sees the messiness of stacked and toppled receipts and invoices and business cards and whatever,

 they will think I'm one of those hoarder types who needs to have 

an

intervention.

I can see it now . . . 

they will shake their heads and say,

"we 

always

  knew

she was a little strange

and now we have the evidence

poor dear . . . 

buried alive under

  several tons

of crumpled receipts, paperclips, manila file folders and notes to self!"

Mind you -

this debris is essential to my business

as any antique dealer will confirm.

We faithfully keep exacting records of each item purchased

and

add to that

 receipts

 for the supplies we buy 

to clean, polish, restore, repaint and refurbish every little piece.

Why the paper towels alone run into the thousands of dollars!

There are mileage record books and checkbooks and all those business cards of hundreds of people who wish to

 sell to us,

 or paint for us,

 or convince us to advertise with them.

We 

dare not

discard anything so vital to our potential success!

There are paint sample cards

(oh my . . . I have thousands of those),

and even tiny chips of actual paint we have peeled off some old thing

 to save for reference

 for that day when we 

NEED

 that beautiful shade of robins' egg blue.

It's a little embarrassing!

That's just the tip of the iceberg

but if I blog any longer

I'll lose daylight hours

and

tomorrow it's back to the shop

and whatever paper is still drifting through the air will once again settle in odd places around the house.

So

if you ring the doorbell and I don't answer,

please

please just give me time to claw my way out from under my mountain

and run to greet you!

Don't call the authorities.

Happy filing!

Botanical prints today are courtesy of The Graphics Fairy @  www.thegraphicsfairy.com

Joy is partner/owner at

Dwell Antiques & Home http://www.facebook.com/dwellantiques

Greenwood Village Colorado

303-795-3454