Saturday had steady traffic through the shop. Some were regulars while others saw the sign, were curious and thought it might be worth a check. A man and a woman came in, she said they were browsing and he looked around a bit and then approached the desk where I was working. He wore a long overcoat and had pointed, sharp features that forged together in an Ebeneezer scowl. From the look he was giving me, I got the distinct impression that he wanted to step on me, squash me like a bug.
He said rather gruffly while thumbing the wall behind him, “How come my friend, who raises sheep, can’t sell his wool for 10 cents a pound, but you can sell that rug for $1000.00?”
There was something about him that raised the hair on the back of my neck. I sensed anything I said would never appease his need to stir the cauldron in his head, but his piercing eyes demanded a reply. I didn’t want the peace and tranquility of my studio to be cracked with a berating so as not to aggravate the situation further, I replied with head tilted down in the quietest of demeanors. I explained rug hooking; the process of designing, purchasing wool that had been handled from the shearing to the end product, cutting into strips and the time to hook, etc. He replied loudly.
“Well, my FRIEND, who can’t sell his wool, will be using it to insulate his house!” In a few short breaths, he tried to devalue wool and our fiber crafts, all the while staring me down as if to provoke fight.
He wasn’t interested in my shop, other than to degrade it. I can only assume what was causing such contempt. The woman with him might have forced him in against his will, she wasn’t a rug hooker and he was probably following at her heels with the enthusiasm of getting a root canal. I really shouldn’t assume although I’ve seen plenty of men dragged into my store that didn’t want to be here. Whatever the cause, the effect was unleashed on me. I wondered if this was his normal personality or if he was just having a bad day. My mom always threatened, “if you make mean faces, it might grow that way”, perhaps she was right, because this mans face clearly evolved from anger, the deep ruts on his forehead and the ring of stress cracks around his mouth, told a tale.
The fact that he failed to measure the distance between the sheared wool on the barn floor and the finished rug, spoke volumes to his ignorance. Saying his friend couldn’t sell his wool was a rather hollow statement without more information to understand it. Bitter in his reasoning, he clearly didn’t realize all the hands that would have worked the wool along the way; the shearing, washing, carding, spinning, weaving, dyeing and hooking meant nothing to him. There wasn’t any respect for me or the shop, he was only interested in trying to take away its value. Interestingly, the rug he referenced wasn’t even close to $1000.00, he had pulled that out of the air to use as ammunition for his critical approach.
Other than a little unease, he didn’t bother me, I thought him silly. I don’t have to justify rug hooking. Unfortunately, he is one of many that don’t understand how much expense, time and effort go into making a rug, or a quilt, or any fiber craft where the labour to create the goods isn’t appreciated as part of the value of the finished item. There will always be those who ridicule and refuse to pay a fair price for a hand-made item.
Sometimes, I wonder if the utilitarian rugs of the past, made from rags to cover uninsulated and sometimes dirt floors are haunting the modern-day rug’s ability to be seen as a work of art? Is it because the medium is generalized as a covering for the floor whereas real art exists for the wall? Some thing we walk over with the dirty appendages of the body can’t hold as much value? Why is it that a painter can work on a painting and charge an intrinsic value but someone who worked months or perhaps a year, painting with wool instead of a brush, be seen as unworthy to apply a value for more than raw materials? Times are changing and I know education is key, and we will drag one person at a time into the mindset until our handiwork gets the respect that it deserves.
I’m not sure why people do and say some of the things they say. My mother’s wise words echo in my head, “If you don’t have anything good to say, keep quiet” and she would also say, “Mind your manners!” a habit that has clearly lost its appeal in today’s society. Mostly the depreciation is a lack of understanding. Once educated in the process of rug hooking, once they see the work from inception to finish, they would applaud instead of insult.
He said rather gruffly while thumbing the wall behind him, “How come my friend, who raises sheep, can’t sell his wool for 10 cents a pound, but you can sell that rug for $1000.00?”
There was something about him that raised the hair on the back of my neck. I sensed anything I said would never appease his need to stir the cauldron in his head, but his piercing eyes demanded a reply. I didn’t want the peace and tranquility of my studio to be cracked with a berating so as not to aggravate the situation further, I replied with head tilted down in the quietest of demeanors. I explained rug hooking; the process of designing, purchasing wool that had been handled from the shearing to the end product, cutting into strips and the time to hook, etc. He replied loudly.
“Well, my FRIEND, who can’t sell his wool, will be using it to insulate his house!” In a few short breaths, he tried to devalue wool and our fiber crafts, all the while staring me down as if to provoke fight.
He wasn’t interested in my shop, other than to degrade it. I can only assume what was causing such contempt. The woman with him might have forced him in against his will, she wasn’t a rug hooker and he was probably following at her heels with the enthusiasm of getting a root canal. I really shouldn’t assume although I’ve seen plenty of men dragged into my store that didn’t want to be here. Whatever the cause, the effect was unleashed on me. I wondered if this was his normal personality or if he was just having a bad day. My mom always threatened, “if you make mean faces, it might grow that way”, perhaps she was right, because this mans face clearly evolved from anger, the deep ruts on his forehead and the ring of stress cracks around his mouth, told a tale.
The fact that he failed to measure the distance between the sheared wool on the barn floor and the finished rug, spoke volumes to his ignorance. Saying his friend couldn’t sell his wool was a rather hollow statement without more information to understand it. Bitter in his reasoning, he clearly didn’t realize all the hands that would have worked the wool along the way; the shearing, washing, carding, spinning, weaving, dyeing and hooking meant nothing to him. There wasn’t any respect for me or the shop, he was only interested in trying to take away its value. Interestingly, the rug he referenced wasn’t even close to $1000.00, he had pulled that out of the air to use as ammunition for his critical approach.
Other than a little unease, he didn’t bother me, I thought him silly. I don’t have to justify rug hooking. Unfortunately, he is one of many that don’t understand how much expense, time and effort go into making a rug, or a quilt, or any fiber craft where the labour to create the goods isn’t appreciated as part of the value of the finished item. There will always be those who ridicule and refuse to pay a fair price for a hand-made item.
Sometimes, I wonder if the utilitarian rugs of the past, made from rags to cover uninsulated and sometimes dirt floors are haunting the modern-day rug’s ability to be seen as a work of art? Is it because the medium is generalized as a covering for the floor whereas real art exists for the wall? Some thing we walk over with the dirty appendages of the body can’t hold as much value? Why is it that a painter can work on a painting and charge an intrinsic value but someone who worked months or perhaps a year, painting with wool instead of a brush, be seen as unworthy to apply a value for more than raw materials? Times are changing and I know education is key, and we will drag one person at a time into the mindset until our handiwork gets the respect that it deserves.
I’m not sure why people do and say some of the things they say. My mother’s wise words echo in my head, “If you don’t have anything good to say, keep quiet” and she would also say, “Mind your manners!” a habit that has clearly lost its appeal in today’s society. Mostly the depreciation is a lack of understanding. Once educated in the process of rug hooking, once they see the work from inception to finish, they would applaud instead of insult.
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