I am an idiot.
I screamed from my dining room table, staring dumbfounded at my computer screen.
It has been a little over a year since opening my first-ever small business, Ming & Di (pronounced “ming-and-die”). It started as a jump on the bandwagon: my social media was littered with reel after reel of countless small business owners showing off their wares through “pack an order with me” videos set to a classical tune. I fell in love with the aesthetic of it and decided that it was my turn to open my own store.
Ming & Di was originally a small boutique business owned by both of my grandmothers between the late 80’s to early 90’s in Orange County, California. One grandmother sewed the clothing, the other painted them, and for several years they created a name worn among many across California’s coasts.
As a way to honor their memory and creativity, I decided to take on the Ming & Di name and focus on an entirely new product: stickers. Seamingly simple, but a versatile and unique way to distribute my art into the world with the hopes that my small business would grow into something more.
With a quick entry into Etsy and a bit of branding, the easy part was over and the series of mistakes that closely followed couldn’t wait to smack me in the face. While several of these were mere speedbumps along the path, there were at least
3 mistakes that rocked me to my core, and found me screaming “I AM AN IDIOT” at my computer screen. Here’s what I learned from them…
Don’t figure it all out.
At least, don’t figure it all out before you start or else you won’t start at all.
I ended up spending too much time and too much money trying to figure out how my packaging would look and the logistics of it all. I ended up being in fear of trial and error so much, that I didn’t leave any space for it. Trial and error is incredibly important to the evolution of anything, let alone a small business. Even though I groan at the thought, the ol’ phrase “if at first you don’t succeed…” makes its way into my brain. Perfectionism took the reins when I first started, so my expectations were far too high. I needed the perfect packaging, to go with my perfect social media layout, to go with my PERFECT products. It wasn’t until more mistakes whittled their way in that this illusion was shattered into a million pieces.
THE FIX:
More mistakes happened that forced me to find a different angle: I realized that my initial choices ended up being very costly ones and because of that, my expectations needed to take a drastic pivot. With an open mind and the fear still very prevalent, I had to look perfectionism straight in her eye and tell her to get lost.
THE MORAL OF THE STORY:
Get the stick out of your butt and try. (I’m looking at myself as I type this…)
Measure twice, cut once.
I didn’t have the equipment to efficiently cut out my product in bulk, so I sought to outsource to another company that had the ability. In my excitement, I quickly downloaded my designs to the company’s website, double-checked the proofs, and waited impatiently for my stickers to arrive at my doorstep. About two weeks went by and the moment had arrived. I ripped my package open only to stare blankly at approximately 1,000 stickers no bigger than the size of a nickel. I thought I had ordered large stickers… I could have SWORN I had - but upon looking at my invoice, I realized that I indeed ordered 1 inch stickers and never double checked my measurements. Due to this, I ultimately spent 200 smack-a-roons on far too many tiny stickers that I had no idea what to do with.
THE FIX:
Once the feeling of doom, embarrassment, and anger went away, I decided to embrace the mistake. Affectionately now named “Confetti Stickers”, this bump in the road allowed me to set myself apart from the competition and find a niche within my target audience that I wouldn’t have found otherwise.
THE MORAL OF THE STORY:
All mistakes have solutions… but please double check your measurements and read the find print. Please.
Keep track of your numbers.
This one is incredibly embarrassing because I have a business degree for goodness sakes, but yup. I didn’t keep track of my numbers. And by numbers, I mean the return on investments, the cost of goods sold, the costs per unit, and everything in between. The nail on my coffin was when I discovered that every product I sold meant I was losing money… closer inspection brought the realization that for every purchase made I lost around $1. Which doesn’t sound like a lot, but in the end I was literally PAYING customers to buy my product! No profits. NONE! I had never done the math within my first year to realize this and had simply determined my prices based on what I thought was fair. I assumed my payouts were enough and never batted an eye.
THE FIX:
I had to bite the bullet and be my own accountant. Through my moaning and groaning, I made detailed spreadsheet after detailed spreadsheet to track inventory, sales, and expenses across all platforms that my product was sold through. My prices were adjusted accordingly along with my overall expenses. Slowly but surely, my profits went up, and the business gods were once again happy with me.
THE MORAL OF THE STORY:
Go hug an accountant.
As I continue to run Ming & Di through its second year, I can only expect that there are more mistakes to come and I’m waiting for it with excitement. Even though the beginning started out rocky, it was due to my naivety that I believed the process would be easy.
Spoiler alert: it’s not and I’m an idiot… but I promise that the gratification of creating something and watching it grow will continue to overpower the fear of mistake and failure, one speedbump at a time.
