Talking Shop

This week I’ve been retracing the steps I took before Christmas, every panic filled, present buying footfall. I’ve been returning and exchanging the gifts that I got in haste (the lesson: beware of impulse buys for family - they won’t pretend they love them.) My sister’s sweater didn’t fit, my father had read the book I’d got him, and J didn’t like his new pyjamas (not soft enough.)

So I’ve been Christmas shopping: Round 2. And with the sales on it was even more chaotic, hence my shopping hangover. Consequently, the idea of going to next week’s Trade Show filled with gifts and interior accessories is making me feel queasy. This could be the wafer thin mint that forces me to finally explode.

I’ll have to harden my resolve, as it’s vital for my business. Top Drawer is a trade only event held at Earls Court for three days, today until Tuesday 19th, where we showcase our goods to shops and potential stockists. Full to the brim of top quality brands launching their newest products and designs, it’s serious shopping. It all happens here before it hits the high street, so it’s quite exciting to see future trends.

There are hundreds of stands competing for attention, and some are more glamorous than others. The truly extravagant have a team to bring in proper furniture and lights to perfectly display their wares, which then all seemingly collapse into a Mary Poppins style flight case at the end of the show.

SW, on the other hand, isn’t such a smooth operation on tour. We’re the smallest stand, with a very simple set up. Without a big budget to blow (the really chi-chi can cost in the region of £20,000) I rely on my products to speak for themselves. And I‘m relieved to say its always worked in the past.

What hasn’t worked is the travelling bit. For the get out, stands are allotted times for their vans to pass outside the building for quick loading, creating a seamless sushi-style conveyor belt. I forgot to book a slot last year, so our van was forced to park a ten-minute walk away. Not far, unless you’re dragging an un-collapsible table, two stools, a stepladder and a vast array of kitchen and tableware.

It’s always a palaver setting up for shows, but I couldn’t do it without Paul, the handyman. He puts up our shelves so efficiently that I had him make a huge bookcase that I have at home (and it always gets compliments.) With cowboy builders aplenty, Paul is a complete anomaly. He’s our knight in shining armour and our Milk Tray man and he goes everywhere on a scooter with just a Tardis-like rucksack. Feel free to email me if you’d like his details, I’m not selfish!

Come to think of it, if marketplace mania hits me and I do fall apart, at least I know good ol’ Paul’s around to repair me

Scarlett Willow