About Us

Gifts to Grow On

Starting Great Handmade Gifts has been like raising a child - an experience filled with joys, frustrations, sleepless nights, and success that comes in baby steps.

by Hope Katz Gibbs

I've always been a big dreamer. One of my favorite ideas since becoming a mother was to create a company that offers moms a sense of community, gives them an avenue to make money, and provides them a safe spot to bring their kids and have a terrific cup of coffee. So, when I founded Great Handmade Gifts: A Mommy Network Company, in the fall of 2001, I was thrilled. This national network based in Clifton, VA, gives crafty, creative, multi-tasking women an outlet for their energy and their art. The moms make the gifts, and the company packages, markets, and sells their handiwork at area craft shows, retail shops, and online. The concept has caught on with gusto. Since incorporating last year, our client list has been growing steadily, as has the roster of artistic women that have joined the network. We have a website, participate in area craft shows, and have big plans for the future. Like most companies, though, there is a great story behind this story.

The birth of a business
The idea to start Great Handmade Gifts came to me shortly after my husband Mike and I had moved our family from Old Town, Alexandria to the suburbs of Fairfax County in the summer of 2000. We came in search of top-rated schools and enough space to house our two children and our two businesses (I'm a freelance writer and Mike is a freelance illustrator). We got our wish, plus three community pools, half a dozen tennis courts and parks, tons of tall trees, and lots of nice neighbors. By Christmas, I was miserable. I missed the energy and excitement of being near a city. I missed the noise. I missed being able to plop my kids in the stroller and walk to a nearby coffee shop. I wanted to go home. Only, I was home. My oldest child, then 5, had just started kindergarten and it had taken her months to feel settled. When I grumbled about wanting to move again, she gave me a look that said, "Please, Mom. No." I knew, even without the plea, we were staying put. It wasn't that our new life was terrible. It was just different from what I was used to. I knew I'd have to adapt. Opportunity came knocking that holiday season when dozens of my new neighbors started delivering plates of Christmas cookies. At first I thought, "How nice." Then, I started to panic: I wanted to reciprocate their kindness, but I don't bake. It's not that I have anything against mixing flour and eggs and sugar in a bowl. It's just that, well, I don't bake. Then it dawned me. Mike had bought sheets of beeswax the previous year so we could roll Hanukkah candles. For months, the kids and I had been creating colorful candles, and I thought just maybe the neighbors might accept a pair of elegant beeswax pillars in lieu of a plate of chocolate chips. So, for the next week I spent afternoons rolling candles - nearly 12 dozen of them. My kids helped me wrap the waxy creations in tissue paper and ribbon. Then, we slipped on our winter coats and delivered the pretty gifts to the neighbors. The candles were a hit, and the exercise got me to thinking. Maybe I could make these gifts and sell them in stores? I began noticing, too, that in addition to their enthusiasm for baking, many of my neighbors were expert seamstresses, professional Pampered Chef party givers, Creative Memory scrapbookers, and superb Stampin' Up salespeople. Perhaps those skilled hostesses would host parties for a company I founded? Perhaps the crafty artists would want me to represent them? With that, Great Handmade Gifts was conceived.

Growing Great Gifts
Although I knew I had a good idea, I was hesitant. The economy was shaky, and with two small children to care for and a freelance career to manage I was busy enough. I wasn't sure if it was the right time to add craft shop entrepreneur to my resume. I spent the summer pondering my options. Then came the events of September 11. Suddenly, I had a new perspective. It became apparent that life is short and precious, and if I wanted to give Great Handmade Gifts a go, now seemed as good a time as any. So I began to flesh out my fantasy. The first task was to test my concept on my own crafts before getting anyone else involved. I'd long been creating crystal and beaded jewelry, and at once went into production making dozens of necklaces and bracelets and earrings - and more candles - in the next month. About the same time, a friend introduced me to wine rings - those tiny charmed jewels you place around the base of a wineglass at a party to help track which one is yours. "I can make these," I told my husband. And I did. For about a month, I played with a handful of designs before feeling ready to package them and show them to my friend Suzanne McGrath, owner of the chic Curious Grape wine shop in Shirlington. She liked them, and agreed to buy a few sets. They sold. So she bought some more. Within weeks, she'd sold dozens of sets of my "Wonderful Wine Rings." Soon after, I decided the time seemed right to develop the network and pick a date to share this concept with the world. I booked a neighborhood recreation center for Nov. 6, 2001, made a few thousand fliers, and phoned all of my crafty friends. They gave me the names of their crafty friends. The Mommy Network was growing. My close friends were the first to join. Lisa Simon of Annandale decorated dozens of baby outfits and tiny socks with delicate pink rosebuds. Cindy Mitlo of Springfield created beautiful cards and unique pictures in matching frames from antiques she'd collected for years. Angie Moran of Alexandria made about 100 colorful princess crowns and personalized doorknob hangers for kid's rooms. Mary Blaise of Clifton began turning out pretty burpie cloths. Billie Eisner of Annandale took to painting dozens of handpainted vases, wine glasses and flutes. And Debbie Kulick of Atlanta began creating velvet and silk wine bottle holders and jewelry purses. Plus, I found a California woman who had mommy-friendly clothing lines, a dad in Alexandria who made cool T-shirts, and a Clifton mom who painted pots for fabulous topiaries. I also put my husband's design and illustrator talents to work, getting him to whip up a logo and promotional materials. With the help of my friend Tony Simon, a top-notch businessman, accountant and owner of Arlington's The Fun Company, we created spreadsheets and other organizational materials. As my list of artists grew, I realized I needed to attend to the business of the business. I opened a checking account, a merchant account, incorporated, and to track it all hired my seamstress friend Debbie Kulick, who is also an accountant. At last, the big night arrived. The butterflies in my stomach seemed to be having a party of their own as the network's artists, friends, husbands of friends, and my family arrived to set up the show. As the clock ticked closer to the starting time of 7 p.m., I poured everyone a glass of wine. Before we could swallow two sips of our chardonnay, the rec center began filling with customers. Within an hour, more than 100 people had moved through our makeshift marketplace, and - yippee - most of them shopped. We were on a roll. Hoping to attract last minute Christmas shoppers, I scheduled another two shows for December. In the next few weeks, however, I learned why CEOs keep Tums on their desks. As it is with parenting, in the world of entrepreneurship few things go as planned.

The show must go on
On Thanksgiving night, the phone rang. It was the owner of the delivery company that I'd hired to distribute 2,500 invitations to nearby neighborhoods. He'd handed out 1,000, he said, but before passing out the rest he received a call from one irate resident. She was upset because among the crafts and crafters listed on the invitation was a Springfield mom named Carol Campbell. She makes Crone Stones, small ceramic meditative devices with hand-drawn goddesses that represent different ideas and emotions. They were born of her years as a social worker and therapist. So when Carol had given up her career to stay home and raise her daughter, and began selling her stones as a way to earn extra money and help women feel calm, happy, and in tune. The irate resident, however, was convinced the Stones were the devil's handiwork. "Are these Crone Stone things like Tarot cards?" the delivery company owner wanted to know. "I don't think so," I stammered, for the question was so unexpected and the complaint seemed so absurd. "Well, this neighbor thinks they are, and we don't distribute anything that has to do with the occult," he said with finality. "We can't deliver any more of your flyers. I'll bring the rest back tomorrow." I went numb with powerlessness. I was sad for my friend Carol, and really ticked off that 1,500 invitations were coming back to me. How was I going to advertise the upcoming events? By hand, I decided. I called my friend Mary Blaise, the burpie cloth artist, who hand delivered most of the invites. I mailed out dozens more, and took out ads in the local newspaper and community newsletter. It was an expensive, time-consuming approach, but despite everything the events went off fine. Customers came. They shopped. We made money. By the time January rolled around, my confidence had started to erode. I knew that in starting a company I'd learn a lot about business, the world, and myself. Some lessons, however, were pretty tough to take. The biggest challenge was attrition. Part of my mission was to employ stay-at-home moms, and I'd miscalculated. Sure, making pretty things, and making money, was important to them - but not as important as the kids they'd given up their careers to raise. They couldn't keep up with the demand of constantly being in production for items that might not sell quickly. Although many of these women wanted to participate, it became increasingly obvious I'd have to tap into a group of artists that already had established craft businesses. Getting into the retail industry was also an eye opener. I had no idea, for instance, that many women prefer post earring backs to wires. I like wires. But I started stocking sterling silver and gold-filled non-allergenic nickel-free earring posts. I also found people don't like to buy handmade greeting cards. They either make their own, or shop at Hallmark. Too bad, because several of the network's crafters made exquisite cards, and were able to turn them out at a quick clip. When no one bought cards, those gals dropped out. Handpainted wine glasses also weren't a big hit. We figured shoppers couldn't figure out how to wash them. I was green. Shoppers can be fickle. I began to feel the stress, and so did my family. It was the dead of winter, and I was at a crossroads.

Creating the life you love
So I called my friend Donna Maria Coles Johnson, founder of the Bowie-based Handmade Toiletries Network. She writes "Creating the Life You Love," a column that offers advice to 3,400-plus female entrepreneurs who subscribe to her weekly online newsletter. Her advice to me: "Don't give up." "To be happy in your life and your career, you have to do what you love," she said. "Things that are worthwhile are rarely easy. So stick it out, even when times seem terrible and frustrating and you want to give up. Eventually, success will follow. Just hang in there." Other successful professional women, including my friend and new partner Katherine Hutt, a public relations specialist and the owner of Nautilus Publishing in Vienna, told me the same. I know they are right. And, although I'm not quitting my day job, I continue to raise and nurture Great Handmade Gifts. In the year since signing the company's papers of incorporation, Great Handmade Gifts has gone from infant to toddler, and as I see it, this fall it began taking its first steps into the world. Having watched my own two children power their way through this phase of life, I know we're getting to the fun part. Between September and December, Great Handmade Gifts is participating in half a dozen festivals. In January 2003, we'll begin distributing a catalog for retail and wholesale use, publishing an e-newsletter, expanding our website, and accepting online credit card payments. I've also found more artistic moms who feel they can make a long-term commitment, and have hired several women to help me maintain the business - instead of trying to do everything myself. And, I have a new dream. I plan to open The Great Handmade Gifts Shop and Art Gallery, a spot to shop, gather, and maybe even have that terrific cup of coffee. Who knows? Maybe believing deeply enough in a dream is the secret to making it come true. After all, my babies were just a gleam in my eye when I moved to Northern Virginia nearly a decade ago. Right now, they both need dinner and a bath. So you just never know.

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Hope Katz Gibbs is a freelance writer, wife and mother of two, and the founder of Great Handmade Gifts, Inc. If you'd like to join the Mommy Network, or find out more about the company, send Hope an e-mail at hope@greathandmadegifts.com.