7:00 Am woken up by a horrible feeling in the sinking pit of my stomach that I'll be one of those sad flea market sellers that NOBODY wants to buy from (the type that I always end up buying a sympathy purchase from...). Quickly survey the bags to make sure that the dross I'm selling isn't completely craptastic.
7:40 Wake the boyf with great difficulty as he mumbles something about a mushy brain. A soft-celled brain isn't going to prevent him from being my stall supporter...
8:20 Addison Lee it down to Brick Lane to scout out possible places to set up and encounter other friendly first-time sellers who weren't sure where to pitch up. They wisely advise me to steer away from the BBQ stands. Afterall, don't want to be selling the shit pit of my wardrobe that's ALSO got the bonus smell of a burning sausage. Set up just across from 93 Feet East and begin unpacking...
8.30 ... fold, fold, fold...
8.33 ... shit, I can't fold properly. Is this why I didn't get that job in Gap? 25 years old and I can't fold my frickin' clothes. See that other stalls have their stuff all laid out already...
8.40 HANGERS! Doh! Visual merchandising rule #1 make sure your merchandise is err... visible. Immediately text incoming friends for hanger support.
8.50 Am jangling change in my little pouch because a handfull of pound coins is very satisfying (and I never have hard coin cash on me...).
9.00 First potential buyer alert! Woman asks about Eley Kishimoto shoes. I say they're a fiver. She shakes her head. I get worried. She asks about a sequinned dress. I say four quid. She wrinkles her nose and says it's too expensive and walks on. Mini panic attack that I've overpriced myself.
9.00-9.10 A couple of cool looking French gals sit down and literally look through everything I have on offer and shows interest by gathering up a pile for themselves and actively trying things on. Hands are rubbing each other gleefully in my head. My first sale! Turns out, one of them called Camille is taking pics for Fred Butler's blog (she snapped me as below...better than my boyf's slightly haphazard blurry camera action...). They also happen to have very refined taste as they snap up a Viktor & Rolf dress, a pair of bright blue leather shorts with ruching at the side and a vintage blouse with lovely covered buttons...
9.20 Uh-oh... a man with what looks like a county sheriff's badge is coming round telling us to pack our stuff away as we don't have a license to sell things on the street. The boyf comments that he looks a bit dodgy... like he could be a competing market stall holder wielding a fake badge telling people to clear off. Or just a bored power tripper who has a random badge. Us newbie sellers look at each other and strategise whether to stay or not. Then a white van from Tower Hamlets council turns up and says they'll take our stuff away if we don't pack up. Nothing to do but to pack up I guess... oh well... I'm to be content with my single set of customers and I'll have to lug this shit home again...
9.30 The van moves on and I've grumpily packed up and I see the other sellers sort of packing up veeeery slowly in a bid to prolong selling time. A group of gals who knew about the sale via Twitter arrive looking at my packed up Ikea bags and ask if they could rummage anyhow. Yeah, of course.... Oh and if the van pulls up again, just say you're my friends helping me pack. Rummage, rummage, rummage and again, they pick out some pretty good things...
Friends arrive with hangers! Up goes some things that I think got a bit sun-bleached...
9.45 Then for some reason, a group of ladies come up and just start picking things out of the bag. Quite brisk rummaging. Things are being unpacked for me even though I'm pondering whether I'm breaking the law or not as I'm selling from the bag direct. Then according to one girl, the council apparently just chases sellers out routinely but they just unpack anyway after they leave and the scary market patrollers can't really do anything about it by the time the people traffic gets really busy. I see others unpacking and so the bedsheet goes down again... I'm a sheep-like criminal...
Rapid set of sales in sequins, stripes and skirts (three things I DID have an excessive amount of...)
11:45 I'd document every sale but I honestly can't remember every particular one now, seeing as things went fairly quickly. By this point in the day, the sun was burning me to smithereens and I was struggling to subtract numbers properly even though everything was in rounded whole figures. Also because of the dorky way I am, I kept thinking every engine noise meant the scary white van was back (even though it was just the Age Concern van revving up...). The dregs on my sheet weren't really making people browse so up I got up, packed away...
...leaving these blue and silver flats as a "Susie WOZ ERE" type thing... hopefully someone who liked them took them home as a freebie... the dregs went to a local charity shop. I have a wodge of notes in my pocket and to the park we went to enjoy the rest of the scorching day...
