Last week, a woman dropped by The Funky Little Chair to inquire about classes. We answered a bunch of questions, and she started to leave, rather jazzed to give this upholstery thing a try.

Then she turned back and asked, “So what kind of people do well in upholstery? Who ends up really liking it? Is it like a sewing thing? Is it more like manufacturing?”

I LOVED this question! I’m always intrigued to see who sticks around – I’ll tell you, upholstery isn’t always what people expect. Some folks acquire a taste, and others immediately look for a new hobby.

I thought it would be fun to crowdsource this question, so I reached out to some experienced upholstery friends:

What does it take to be successful in upholstery?

It was a wonderful discussion – here are a few of their answers:

Being good with your hands

“I think you really gotta like working with your hands, because that’s what you’re gonna be doing. And you need strong hands, but I think you can develop that.” Amy Otteson, Amy Oh Design, Minnesota

I think this is what draws a lot of folks to upholstery in the first place – we’re increasingly a society of corporate and tech jobs. We sit at a lot of desks. People who come in crave the opportunity to get their hands on something real. But be forewarned:

You can’t be afraid to get dirty and physical.

“It is not a trade for anyone who is afraid to get dirty or get a thousand owies from staples, slivers etc, get glue on your hands, work with dirty disgusting interiors of old furniture.” Tracy Spear, Sew Kewl Upholstery , Utah

I told our visitor that people often come in expecting home ec, only to discover that class is a lot more like shop: You’re going to get messy. You’re going to get scratched up. You’re going to be tired.  It’s a terrible, wonderful, unavoidable part of the job. (One of my favorite parts, actually)

Understanding physical problems

“Generally people who understand how things work, and if they don’t they can figure it out.” Kylin Brimhall

“I used to pull the furniture apart to see how it was made. It wasn’t popular.” Michael Tulk 

” Visualizing end product is key and also knowing and understanding 3rd dimensioning, the order of operations.” Davis Bradshawe, Vinyl Destination Upholstery, Maine

“Problem solvers” Louise Turner Cornick, Sitting Pretty Upholstery Services, California

“No two jobs are ever the same. Someone with a creative mind and problem solving skills.” Nathan Spadaro, Decor Upholstery, Sydney 

So much of upholstery is the ability to READ a project – take apart what’s there and understand how to recreate it. How does this work? If it doesn’t work, why not? Spatial and logical skills are critical, because you can’t find a road map to everything you’ll encounter – you have to apply what you know to whatever you find.

The human brain is a beautiful and amazing thing. Some people are really good math, others at language. Some people understand complex strategy and love chess. Other people will destroy you at Scrabble while you’re busy playing two letter words.

It’s apparent when people dig into a chair that some brains are better wired for deciphering furniture than others. I’m a firm believer that we can learn pretty much anything with enough determination, but natural aptitude certainly doesn’t hurt.

No matter what, don’t make the mistake of expecting a cakewalk:

Being comfortable with struggle:

“I think you have to be willing to fail. That’s the only way you’re going to learn anything.” Amy Otteson, Amy Oh Design, Minnesota

“It goes beyond class: It’s hours and hours of trial and error and trying again to get it right.”  Tracy Spear, Sew Kewl Upholstery 

“I can envision what I want a piece to be, how it could look and love the process of getting there.  I curse and get angry with every piece and struggle a bit with each one, but the end result is so satisfying, that the bloody fingers, callouses and frustrations and failures are worth it.”  Jennifer Hopkins, West Brome Upholstery, Quebec 

Ugh, the struggle is brutal, and so many new students are caught off guard. If you want to be good at upholstery, there is SO MUCH STRUGGLE between you and that goal.

I remember the year I learned how to sew boxed/welted/cushions – I wanted to have a grown up temper tantrum every time I had to rip out a seam or restitch a corner.

But as the saying goes, “It never gets easier, you just get stronger.”

Struggle is an inevitable part of being successful in upholstery:  You can’t walk around it: You gotta walk through.

Meticulous: But not necessarily a diehard perfectionist

“Attention to detail is a must have!” Kylin Brimhall

“Knowing that there’s no such thing as perfect in upholstery.” Gabrielle Lindberg, Cotton Seed Designs, Minnesota 

Okay, this is a little tricky. Good upholsterers are EXTREMELY detail oriented – but nobody struggles in workshops more than our perfectionists.

There’s a certain amount of letting go in upholstery – it’s subjective, and challenging, and old pieces are often charmingly imperfect. Fabric is naughty, and padding moves. You cannot, must not, be a slob: But if you need everything to add up to perfection, you might want to stick with sudoku.

Creativity, vision and passion

“I think the human mind likes to create. A lot of jobs don’t allow that.” Amy Otteson, Amy Oh Design, Minnesota 

“An artist… If you aren’t creative, you won’t get far.” Davis Bradshaw, Vinyl Destination Upholstery, Maine 

“There are those hard days when the there are so many staples I just can’t even look at another one, dirty discussing fabric and gross stuffing but in the end after tearing everything off I have a blank canvas to create with. Passion is what makes a great upholsterer.” Marianne Funk Henderson 

The woman who stopped by asked, “Is it like manufacturing?” and the answer is unequivocally NO. Unless, I suppose, you upholster in a manufacturing setting, but even then – it’s never a simple as Peg A into Hole B.

Every fabric is different, every chair, every upholsterer. There’s a good deal of interpretation involved, far more than you might expect. Though manufacturers have been amazing at streamlining, upholstery is on the short list of things we have figured out how to automate yet: There’s an indisputably human element.

Patience

“Patient, detailed individuals” Don Willis 

“Patience. A willingness to learn, and understanding and acceptance that you’ll never really know it ‘all'” Lindsay Orwig, A Chick and a Chair Upholstery, Minnesota 

“Someone with mass quantities of patience is helpful.” Rob Meyer, Pete’s Auto Upholstery, Florida 

“In my experience people can either visualize in 3D or not. I think that this ability combined with the patience to slowly improve is all you need.” Simon Blackburn, Simon’s Upholstery, Texas

Patience was the single most cited attribute and I couldn’t agree more.

I’m of the mind that upholstery is never really, “mastered” – there’s always room for improvement, always more to be learned or refined. The learning process is lovely, but oh-so-long. Folks who are wired for instant gratification are quickly disappointed.

But patience pays off, and discovering that you’re comfortable with a skill that once eluded you . . . well, it’s delicious, is what it is.

We don’t get there in a hurry, but through patience, practice, creativity, vision, determination, frustration and celebration, we just might get there anyway.

Big thanks to all our articulate upholstery friends for sharing your lovely insights. I’ll leave you with one last quote from my friend Nathan in Australia, because I think it really sums up this craft that we call upholstery:

“A person must be accepting you can never master this trade because it is impossible to recover every variation of upholstered furniture.

You will be taught skills that you add to your experiences, and combined will make your challenges easier to conquer:
Patience and persistence.”

Nathan Spadaro, Decor Upholstery, Sydney 

I couldn’t have said it better myself <3

Want to try upholstery on for size? Check out our upcoming classes: Education

I think every teacher/artist/athlete/craftsperson sees their “medium” as a metaphor for life. It’s one reason I love quotes – we can all be inspired by the passionate people around us, even those who have passions different than our own.

Some examples:

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Whether you’re a boxer or a welder, a knitter or a chef, the things we do offer opportunities to understand ourselves and our world a little better.

But really? Even upholstery?

Oh yes. Even upholstery.

I feel like I’ve learned all sorts of valuable life lessons at the upholstery shop, but one in particular was rolling around my brain this week. . .

One tricky aspect of learning and teaching upholstery is that we’re rarely afforded a perfect road map. There are certain subsets of upholstery that may have more repetition (production) or clearer rules (traditional) but if you want definite beginning to end instructions, this upholstery thing is going to be rough, especially at the start.

But here’s the bottom line: You can’t NOT start, just because you aren’t sure where the last staple will go. 

I mean . . . okay, you CAN, but you aren’t going to get very far. 

And if you’re anything like me, maybe that’s something you stumble over in other areas of your life. 

I LOVE to sit around, frozen with uncertainty. OH MY GOOOOOOOOSH!!!!!!! WHAT IF I GO THIS WAY AND I SHOULD HAVE GONE THAT WAY?????? I CAN’T GET STARTED BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE EVERY ANSWER TO EVERY QUESTION I MAY OR MAY NOT RUN INTO!!!!!!!!!!

Upholstery has been good for me in this regard. Will it surprise you to learn that I still feel a flutter of trepidation at the start of a project? I mentioned this last week to The Fabulous Amy Oh – I was just starting these fabulous client chairs:

There’s always ALWAYS a certain amount of uncertainty . . . or rather, CERTAINTY . . . that I’ll run into little struggles and surprises along the way. I don’t love that. But it’s an unavoidable fact of upholstery, and of the world, and I’d live a pretty small life if I stuck my head in the dirt and tried not to run into trouble.

Usually, once I get to work, solutions present themselves. I can figure out a lot by rolling up my sleeves and digging in.

It certainly works a lot better than sitting at home worrying about it. 

And what if I have to try a few solutions to get a winner? And what if I have to call a trusted mentor? And what if I have to pull an arm off and start over?

What if, what if, what it???

I recognize these same worries in students all the time. They walk to their chair with a piece of fabric . . . and immediately freak out. The inside arm, which we’re tackling on Aunt Bea this week, is a great example. WATCH THE VIDEO

Before the first tentative staple goes in, people start panicking about the pleats – THE PLEATS! THE PLEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAATS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHH WHAT ABOUT THE PLEEEEEEAAAAAAATS?????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Listen up:

Chill out.

We’ll talk about the pleats when we get there. And we’ll figure them out. But put that worry in a drawer, and let’s just figure out where to start. Okay, now let’s figure out where to go next. And next. And next.

When you’re doing something new, you probably don’t have a clear path forward. But can you identify a good first step?

Let’s get all Inception up in here and consider a metaphor inside of our metaphor: 

It’s like standing in the fog. You can only see a couple of steps in any direction. But guess what? Once you take a couple steps, you’ll probably see a couple more.

Maybe you’ll go the wrong way and have to go back. So what? At least you discovered a path that doesn’t work.

Maybe you’ll run into someone and have to ask for directions. So what? Maybe that someone knows a destination even better than the one you were headed for.

But one thing’s for sure: You’ll never get anywhere, standing around squinting at the woods. Take it from good ol’ Teddy Roosevelt: 

And anyway, few destinations are reached by the shortest distance possible: The fog of my upholstery career is crisscrossed with footsteps in every conceivable direction. But every misstep has taught me something valuable, so in the end were they really missteps at all?

Here’s another quote to chew on:

Isn’t that a wonderful way to frame the journey?

Now, I’m not necessarily saying that we need to learn EVERYTHING the hard way – I’m delighted that someone else invented the lightbulb, so I can just come home and enjoy it.

Likewise, I’m happy to share everything I’ve tried with students so that they don’t have to discover every single misstep for themselves. And I’m glad that others have done that for me.

But there IS great value in giving yourself permission to move forward without a perfect plan.

And there’s even greater value in trusting your future self to figure the rest out.

You said it, Steve.

Head to YouTube and subscribe to follow Aunt Bea on her journey! 

 

 

Alright, that title is deliberate upholstery click bait. . . But I want to tell you something, and please bear with me.

Here’s a secret truth about upholstery:  It’s really, really, really, really easy to tear someone’s work apart.

I don’t mean in the literal sense. I mean figuratively. If I were inclined to do so, I could walk into any shop in the world INCLUDING MY OWN and find something to criticize. It would take very little effort, very little imagination.

That’s because upholstery is not only extremely challenging: it’s also (another secret truth) extremely subjective. Guaranteed, my idea of “perfect” isn’t the same as yours or the upholsterer down the street.

Last week, I had a 20 minute conversation with a client about 3 pillows. Where should the zippers go? What stripe should we center on? What direction should the welt cord go? I usually make my covers slightly smaller than the inserts, was she good with that, or had she anticipated leaving with 16″ covers? I was happy to share my thoughts, but it the end, it was HER idea of “perfect” that mattered.

And while I’m at it, here’s another thought: Is “perfect” even a thing in upholstery? To be honest, I don’t think so. At least, I’ve never achieved it, and people tell me I’m pretty good (awwwww)

On any day of the week, on any given project, I could list a dozen tiny things I wish I could have done JUST a little better.

There’s ALWAYS something.

So what we do, unless you hide in a closet and never share your work . . .  it leaves you pretty wide open to criticism.

I don’t know about you, but I find that scary.

The reason I’m writing about this now is because of Aunt Bea. When I teach, I make decisions based primarily on what’s quantifiable – I want to make skills as structured and straightforward as possible, especially if I’m introducing them to someone for the first time (or trying to shoehorn them into a video format)

For one of my advanced students, or for a client, there would have been extra considerations, bits and tweaks and additional steps.

So I’m feeling a tad vulnerable,  you see.

I have put something out there, very publicly, that’s not quite up to my own “professional standards.” For good reasons, yes yes!  But nonetheless, there it is, at 3am, making me all kinds of crazy, wondering who’s going to show up and shred me in the comments.

Now I didn’t get on here to whine about my insecurities – we’re learning to get along just fine. But it really got me thinking. . .

If I’ve been at this for almost 2 decades and I’ve had a lot of great teachers and loads and loads of practical experience. . . . If I’M feeling vulnerable, how the heck are people feeling that are just starting out? Maybe people who are mostly self-taught? People without access to mentors or degree programs or regular hands-on education? Because that’s a lot of people!!!!! And we need these people to keep learning!!!!!!

So here’s my point:

For Pete’s sake, BE NICE TO EACH OTHER!

I want to scream it from the rooftops. STOP TEARING PEOPLE DOWN ON SOCIAL MEDIA!!!!

Stop acting like there’s only one RIGHT way!!!!

Now I’m not talking about condoning low standards. What I AM talking about is not shutting down the conversation by being a grade A snob.

My skills have never improved because someone made me feel stupid and inexperienced. Never. Never ever. Not even once.

But my skills have repeatedly improved because someone made me feel comfortable asking questions. My skills have improved because I was inspired by the example of someone else’s exceptional work and approachable disposition. My skills have improved because someone else believed I was capable of improving.

Many of those someones are members of the Professional Upholsterers’ Association of Minnesota. I joined with my mom’s shop in 2001. She was self taught, and it was my first encounter with other professionals. Scary.

They could have been jerks. They could have made us feel very small, and very amateurish (many of the members had graduated from upholstery degree programs while they were still an option in Minnesota. Several had even been instructors.)

If they had, that would have likely been the end of my upholstery career.

But they didn’t. And it completely changed the trajectory of my life.

My workmanship has steadily improved through access to a supportive, experienced group of professionals. I’ve gone to them with every manner of question, from minute technical questions, to big philosophical business questions. I continue to reach out to mentors within that group when I need a trusted perspective.

And it opened my eyes to how little we really agree on in upholstery.

Truly, it’s wild.

Going in, I was afraid that everyone would know “The right way” except us. Ha!

I’ve seen spirited debates on everything from how to thread your sewing machine, to whether you should put batting on the sides of a cushion. It’s bananas. If you’re ever bored, go to a meeting and throw in a little conversation bomb, some seemingly innocent starter like, “I prefer synthetic burlap.” Then kick back and enjoy.

At one of the first meetings I attended,  a potentially contentious debate started up about whether to bias cut your welt cord.

ALWAYS!!!

ALMOST NEVER!!!!!

And I remember then-president Paul Henly of Regal Design Studio calmly diffusing the situation with a simple observation. “There are good reasons to do it either way.”

That was it!!!!! We didn’t take a vote to decide who was right!!!!!!

THEY BOTH WERE!!!

And seriously, they were – both members were experienced and knowledgable. Among other things, they knew what was working best for them, for their clients, their typical workload (I think one was primarily residential, one primarily marine.)

But that moment rather shaped my philosophy.

The more I learn, the less likely I am to use words like, ALWAYS, NEVER or RIGHT.

I have very few hard and fast rules in upholstery. Usually, as soon as I think of one, I think of a situation where I’d make an exception.

Now, when I teach, I use words like USUALLY, GENERALLY, and TYPICALLY followed by, “And this is why.”

Teach the reason. Open the dialogue. Give students room to explore. Try to cultivate an open and inquisitive mind.

Because I think that’s the most important thing.

When we talk about “The right way” I think, ‘Are you making informed decisions?’ ‘Are your decisions MORE informed than this time last year?’ ‘Are you continually reevaluating yourself to see if there might be a better way?’ ‘Are you making the best possible decisions for your client based on your current skill set, your level of experience, the best products you have available, their individual needs?’

Are you reaching out to all available resources to be the best upholsterer you can possibly be?

And here’s where we all (hopefully) help. If someone goes out on a limb, shares their work, their initial accomplishments, their perceived successes and failures  – if they are met with disdain and judgement and scorn, will they go out on that limb again? Or did they just learn not to ask any more questions?

I know we’ve covered this: I don’t think upholstery is a dying industry.

But a lot of people do.

And maybe the most dangerous thing we can do is knock each other down.

Our enemies are uninformed consumers, and cheap new furniture. Our enemies are people turning out low quality work for lack of good education and networking. Our enemies are all the reasons people choose not to reupholster.

Let’s not make enemies of one other.

When it comes to keeping upholstery alive, a rising tide lifts all ships. We are in this together, y’all. The more students, professionals and consumers who understand and appreciate what we do, the better it will be for all of us.

So that’s my big idea:

Be nice.

Be great at what you do.

And be humble.

I don’t suppose it will save the world. . .  But it certainly can’t hurt.

“Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great.”
Mark Twain

Every time I make a cushion insert, I think to myself, “I should write a blog post about this!”

Because cushion inserts can be tricky – you need to understand all the products you’re working with (in my case, usually/mostly foam of varying grades), you need to make decisions about sizing and relative quantities of said products. Sizing will, of course, vary according to the size of finished cover, the desired aesthetic outcome, the final destination for your cushion (wood window seat? Sprung deck? Eating area with a table?) and OH! Don’t forget about personal preference – cushions are incredibly subjective. So, you know . . . good luck.

But I never get the post written, because I start thinking about all the different variables and considerations and combinations. I mean, really, we don’t give cushions enough credit – they can make or break your upholstery project. Use the wrong foam, and it will disappoint in a hurry – by being uncomfortable, or by breaking down too soon. Miss the sizing by much and you can have a seat that’s too high or a cover that’s too loose.  If you want happy, comfortable, clients, you gotta understand CUSHIONS.

And they are a subtle art.

So instead of waiting until I have 180 hours to write the 30 page mega ebook post about cushions A-Z, we’re going to try something new: I’ll occasionally post about a specific cushion or two I’m tackling.

This could be the least read blog post series in the history of the world. 

But if cushions are something you struggle with, I hope you’ll find this informative. . . .

Introducing: Stale Dale

Our first cushion is from a current sofa project. The client named this musty mid-century fellow, “Stale Dale.”

Given the age, and the fact that this was a Craig’s List garage find, we knew right away that new cushions were a given.

With the low arm and lean style, I selected a 4″ core foam. The seat foam I use, almost without exception is an HR 3.1# with an IFD of  33 from Fabric Supply in Minneapolis.

Here’s a super super quick explanation of those numbers: 

3.1# is the DENSITY/WEIGHT. In short, it is the best quality foam they carry, because it is the heaviest. The denser the cushion, the longer it takes to lose it’s support. 

33 is the IFD (or sometimes, ILD). This tells me how firm the foam is. Mid 30s is standard for sofa cushions, inasmuch as we can call anything standard. While FSI doesn’t carry DENSER cushioning foams, they DO carry firmer cushioning foams. That’s the tricky bit- don’t confuse firmness and density!!!!! They are two very independent attributes (more on that in a future post?????) 

SO we have our core, is that all??? 

If these were smaller cushions, perhaps. Mid century cushions are traditionally very lean and very square.

(But you can’t actually make square cushions. Sorry architects.)

In order to keep the cushion cover full, we have to oversize the insert – a little, or a lot.

It depends.

Of course, it depends.

Stale Dale came in with 3 seat cushions, or rather NONE seat cushions. But we want him to leave with 2 seat cushions. I LOOOOOOVE two seat cushions. I’m on my two cushion sofa right now, with room for my legs to extend out on The Island of Cushion without falling into the Canyon of Crack.

But the longer we make a cushion, the more likely it is to be a bit naughty. If you’ve ever seen a REALLY long cushion (window seat, single seat sofa) you know what I mean – long stretches of fabric tend to misbehave. Maybe good in this longer cushion scenario to add a little extra height to our insert.

In addition to our core, I added 1/2″ top and bottom of an HR2.2# with an IFD of 19.

Remember those numbers folks? Still relatively heavy (2.2#) but SOFT (19)

Here’s a photo of foam, isn’t it exciting????

This is my favorite way to make cushions, actually – it’s like a freaking amazing mattress topper situation for your tush. Your lucky, lucky tush.

In addition to all THAT, we’ll add a standard layer of polyester batting. This gives us another layer of loft, and if protects the foam and fabric from premature wear as they move. Cushions without batting tend to break down faster – the foam, or the fabric, or both.

So after all that foam and wrap, who wants to guess how wide my finished cushion boxing is?

(drum roll, please)

3.25″

Now that may seem ridiculous, but check it out:

(Oh, that’s Lindsay from A Chick and a Chair. She’s a nerd. But she’s our nerd  <3)

Not so crazy plump as one might expect, right???? You’d be amazed how much can fit in a cushion cover, especially when you start creating really crowned cushions. Maybe we’ll  do a blog about THAT sometime soon . . . . .

In the meantime, go to Instagram and search #staledale to see how he turns out!

Hey everyone, I’ll be blogging weekly this year, starting with the launch of our #reupholsterauntbea project next week – want to stay in the loop on lots of upholstery education tidbits? Follow my blog so you’ll be sure to see new posts! 

I have two rowdy boys at home (three, if you count my husband)

Occasionally, they get railroaded into delivering furniture, or making buttons or carrying home a freebie that mom spotted on the curb.

But in general, upholstery is my thing, not theirs. They don’t care what color the sofa is, or whether it has coil springs. They stubbornly refuse to get excited about the 3# foam in our cushions (how can you NOT be excited about 3# foam????)

But recently, I noticed that my son had dragged a chair out of the attic (um, we all have have chairs in the attic . . . right??) and kind of made it his own.

Now let me tell you about this chair:

This chair is the most unremarkable piece of furniture we own. It’s possibly the most unremarkable vintage chair in the world –  which is partly why I bought it.

This little skirted, attached cushion number is EVERYWHERE. I don’t know if they were breeding when people weren’t looking, or if you got one free with every marriage license in the 1960’s or WHAT but it seems like everyone owned some variation of this chair at some point.

So you see them all the time at garage sales and thrift stores and they tend not to get much love. So I bought it for two reasons:

1. ‘Someday, I’m going to reupholster that, maybe change the back style, just to show consumers that ANYTHING can be updated, you just need a bit of imagination.’
2. It was the last day of a rummage sale and this sad, lonely chair had been marked down to $2. I knew darn well that it had a 99.9% chance of ending up in a landfill if I didn’t adopt its ugly arse.  Every upholsterer must eventually learn that you cannot personally save all the furniture . . . but I was new in the trade, and didn’t (yet) have a house stuffed with projects.

So I dragged it home, stashed it, and forgot it. . .

. . . Until my giant teenage son dragged it out.

Now this was very strange. It’s way too small for him. It didn’t have a cushion (who knows where THAT went??) so he used a random scrap of foam for the seat. And the very groovy orange velour was dirty and utterly threadbare.

But HEY! Sometimes, love is blind.

So for whatever reason, he’s suddenly kind of sweet on this chair. And I’m kind of sweet on him being sweet on this chair.

I don’t know how other moms of teenagers feel, but I realize my days with Noah are slipping away. He’s racing towards adulthood, and all the adventures that begin at 18. And I’m super excited for him. Of course! But also . . .  I miss him already.

In the blink of an eye, you go from shoulder back rides in public to “can we just meet in the parking lot after the concert?” (I had the audacity to KNIT at his choir concert – OH MY GAWD parents are so embarrassing)

I showed both my sons a Facebook article stating that women need to be hugged daily for their health. Now, along with my morning allergy pill, I get a very obligatory “hug for my health”

Shameless, I know.

And this year’s been extra tough with my opening a new shop. The biggest sacrifice has undoubtedly been less time with my kids, time that is all too fleeting under the best of circumstances.

So what can I say? I got kind of excited about a project with my teenage son.

“Noah,” I said. “Do you want to pick out fabric and we can reupholster that over the summer?”

“Yeah, that would be cool” (COOL!!!!)

Then he picked out a super soft, super green, super VELVET fabric from Barrow:

I haaaaaate working with velvet. Hate, hate, hate. You can’t fold it. Can’t regulate it. You can’t steam or hammer the heck out of it (two things I rather enjoy doing.) It misbehaves terribly at the sewing machine. Basically, you can’t look at it wrong or say mean things to it without regretting your decision.

Velvet is a princess.

So I tried to talk Noah into something else, enticing him with photos of bold weaves or crazy geometrics. Nope!!!! He’d picked his pony.

Some clients just insist on being difficult.

Noah has torn back plenty of projects for me, so he had the chair apart in no time. After Steve Cone and I dragged it around to a couple upholstery masterclasses, we got to work!

In addition to tearing back, Noah webbed and burlaped the frame, put in buttons, cleaned up the mess, and moved the chair whenever I needed it moved. Mostly, I worked on the chair, and he worked on other shop chores.

You may be wondering why I didn’t painstakingly guide my teenager through doing this project for himself. Good question! Good reasons: 

1.  Princess velvet. If he’d picked any of the fabrics MOM advocated for, he would have sewn welt cord and done some cutting, stapling, etc. But velvet is not a good learning fabric for a 15 year old student (or anyone in their right mind)
2. Attached cushion??? Mitered nosing??? Curved T-cushion from scratch??? Tough project!!! I look forward to helping Noah upholster his first chair. But this ain’t it, kid, this ain’t it . . .
3. Noah didn’t want to REUPHOLSTER A CHAIR he wanted A CHAIR REUPHOLSTERED. And would-be students take note: those are two VERY DIFFERENT THINGS. I like teaching students who come ready to learn. It’s awesome, and I think I’m pretty good at it! But making my kid learn something he’s not especially interested in learning? Ugh. We do that at home.  I’ll fight about math homework and how to load the dishwasher –  I don’t feel a pressing need to pick a fight about easement cuts.

And really, I was cool with it.  At 15, I had no interest in learning upholstery (or anything else, actually) from my mom. Maybe someday he’ll ask to learn . . . and maybe he won’t. When he’s ready, I’m ready.

In the meantime, it was a huge help to have him tear back my next client project and knock out a bunch of shop chores.

It was a long, lovely day in St. Paul.

Noah gets dragged into helping with all kinds of things at the shop, and into more things at home BECAUSE of the shop – and he’s surprisingly good natured about most of it. He’s helped me make instructional videos, and create a YouTube Channel. He’s my number one go-to for getting something torn back quickly and properly. He does more housekeeping than me, keeps the lawn mowed, takes his little brother to the library, and helps out his grandparents and aunts. When I go for a run, he often greets me outside with a glass of water as I stagger home. I’ve never asked him to, he’s just nice. I didn’t mean to go Full Mom on the blog, but what can I say?  He’s a good kid: Funny, thoughtful, empathetic. He reminds me that teenagers can be really great.

Before Noah put on the burlap, we left a note inside the frame.

 

I don’t know where this orphan came from, but I quite like the idea of Noah playing video games in some little old lady’s (now green) chair – bet she didn’t expect that!  I would never have chosen this chair for him – but to quote a book you should read:

“… isn’t it always the inappropriate thing, the thing that doesn’t quite work, that’s oddly the dearest?”

The Goldfinch, Donna Tartt

Who knows what will happen to this chair? I’d love to think that Noah will cherish it for decades, dragging it to his first apartment, fighting with his wife about whether it should stay or go . . . Very probably, he won’t – it might just have been a fun summer activity, and I’ll consider that  time well spent.

But maybe, just maybe, there will someday be bedtime stories in Grandpa Noah’s scruffy green chair.

An heirloom is defined as, “something valuable that is passed from generation to generation”  Furniture is usually considered valuable because it is old, rare, or exquisitely crafted. But what chair is more more valuable than one infused with memories?

Sometimes, the strangest things become heirlooms. Those are my favorite kind.

And what about my other son? Did he feel left out? Well, as luck would have it, he’s laid claim to the little love seat we carried home last month – and if you thought green velvet was a wild selection, just wait until you see what Ian picked . . .

But THAT is a blog post for another day . . . .

The velvet we used on Noah’s chair comes in a wonderful selection of colors – you can browse them all on Barrow’s website, or at the shop. (And if you want me to reupholster your chair with it, I promise to only say bad things about velvet in my head)

If Ian’s fabric is more your style you can see the full repeat online at Greenhouse Fabrics 

IN case you’ve just tuned in, I opened a business last year. It’s a little upholstery shop in St. Paul that focuses on education (though I also offer services)

In that year, I’ve tried to fill my online presence with confidence and optimism, with enthusiasm for the journey, and gratitude for the uncertain future.

But if you know me in person, you know that reality was a lot more complicated.

A high school friend once told a story about his childhood dog. They put in one of those invisible fences, and every day the dog would test it, just to see if it was still there. Then, one day, he got a running start and barreled through, full steam and howling, hellbent for freedom, whatever the cost.

That’s how this year has felt for me. For years, I’ve tested the boundary of self-employment, gauging the danger before stepping back into the familiar. Are all my fears still there? Yup. All the reasons not to leap?? Yup. Scary scary scary. Better hang out in the yard.

But MAN I could see the other side, and it looked pretty good.

So last spring, I finally put my head down, got a running start, and barreled forward, yowling and wide eyed, hoping like crazy I could make it to the other side.

Self-employment is not for the timid or meek. I knew that this year meant getting up every day and doing something scary, meeting someone new, solving a different problem. I knew that all the planning in the world wouldn’t fully prepare me for The Unexpected. I knew that once I started, I couldn’t easily change my mind. To stand any chance of success, I knew I needed to be as visible as possible . . . and that I might fail anyway – not in obscurity, but with everyone watching, everyone knowing I’d tried my hardest and come up short. Who wants to do that?????

Let me tell you a couple things about Cynthia.

#1. I hate 4 way stop signs. I mean HAAAAATE. Like, I can occasionally get myself worked up a full day in advance about having to go through one, and will find ridiculously convoluted ways to avoid them. Why? Because I DON’T TOTALLY KNOW what will happen when I get there. What if I’m turning left but the other driver doesn’t see my signal? What if we get there at the exact same time? What if I wait too long and the other driver gets annoyed at me? What if they run it? What if I think it’s my turn but they think it’s their turn??? Do you see how stupid this is? And I know it’s stupid, but the heart wants what it wants, and my heart wants to know EXACTLY WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN ALL THE TIME AND TO AVOID POTENTIALLY AWKWARD SITUATIONS LIKE THE PLAGUE.

#2. I love pizza. Especially free pizza. But if someone says, “I’ll pay if you call it in” then there will be no pizza. Because Cynthia hates the phone. And Cynthia REALLY hates talking to strangers. What if they can’t understand me? What if they ask me a tricky pizza trivia question I can’t answer? What if I just burst into flames and die right here?

#3. I studied classical music in college. Want me to memorize 5 Italian arias, 3 German art songs and a French folk song? No prob, Bob. But do not DO NOT ask me to scat or improvise in any way. Seriously. Not one bloody measure or I’m going to change majors immediately. Show me exactly what I’m supposed to sing, when I’m supposed to sing it, and we’ll all get along just fine.

The point is this: Cynthia is not a risk taker. I like my comfort zone and my well-laid plans. I despise uncertainty. If you need me, I’ll be hiding in the corner, hoping to avoid all confrontation, embarrassment or unstructured human interaction. (People are scary)

That would be why I spent 15 years trying to achieve my goals from the shelter of other people’s businesses.

Not surprisingly, it didn’t work that well.

Eventually, I had decide: keep hoping my goals would come to me. . . or put on my big girl pants and go meet them.

You guys, I still don’t know what happened.

One day I was reading, “You are a Badass” and the next thing I know, I’m giving my notice and typing up a business plan.

And like the initial climb and inevitable fall of a roller coaster, I spent a fair amount of time wishing fervently for a way to abort mission. Most days, my inner voice sounded like Edvard Munch’s, “The Scream.”

I always thought the right path feels intuitively, you know. . . RIGHT. But it’s hard to listen to your inner voice when your Fear of the Unknown is on full-volume banshee scream repeat.

But as the Anais Nin quote goes, ”

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom”

There simply came a day when I had to admit that I desperately wanted more.

Fortunately (or not) I’ve known enough self-employed people to know what I was in for. And I knew myself well enough to appreciate that this decision would stretch my absolute limits. I warned my husband that this year would be rough: for me,  for us, for our family. I repeatedly consoled myself: ‘It’s a two-year lease. Worst case scenario, you crash and burn for two years and then you quit.’ I battened down the hatches and dug in my heels.

This year took a super conscious effort, an act of will I hope never to repeat.

I called up SCORE and got a business mentor (she rocks)

I read and listened to motivational and inspirational books.

I drowned myself (and everyone else) in motivational quotes.

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I listened to songs like, “Confident” and “Firework” and “Superwoman” at full volume on shameless repeat.

You guys: I made a vision board.

I was seriously intolerable. Whether you care about upholstery or not, I talked your ear off. I exhausted my list of phone contacts, calling mentors in a panic when the shop was quiet. I constantly checked my bank account, doing the math on how many months until I was flat bust broke.

One morning in September, when everything seemed to be breaking and the universe was almost certainly conspiring against me, I sat at a stoplight, gripping the steering wheel and screaming, “LISTEN UP UNIVERSE!!!!!! I’M NOT F@#&*NG AROUND HERE!!!!!!”

I’m sure I looked as crazy as I felt.

Then I stopped by Workhorse Coffee and bought a Pfeffer.  Congrats on surviving another day, scared out of your ever-loving mind. Yay!

I never planned on owning a business. I’ve heard these wonderful stories about born entrepreneurs who always knew they wanted to own a business, even if they weren’t sure what that business might be. Maybe they own one business for awhile, and then go try some other completely unrelated business.

I’m sorry, WHAT??

I’ll tell you right now: If I close up shop at the end of my lease, I’m never owning a business again. I opened this business because I wanted THIS SPECIFIC BUSINESS to exist. And I wanted to work there.

And even for this business, it’s been a stretch. This year, employment has been all-consuming.

I’ve been a mediocre wife, a disconnected mom.

I’ve been a terrible friend and a completely negligent housekeeper.

I stopped sleeping, threw up, and lost weight.  Then I stopped working out, started eating garbage and gained weight. Even when I DID make it out for a run, I spent most of the time mentally balancing the checkbook.

I kept a stress journal and downloaded guided meditations to my phone.

When my mom retired, I cried behind her shop, feeling scared and alone, ashamed that I’d put my family at financial risk by chasing such a foolish dream. . .

Why am I sharing this?

Because I think transparency is gift that we give to each other.

It’s so easy to pop onto social media and think that everyone out there is braver and prettier and richer and happier than us. It can be so demoralizing. I think the truth is empowering.

I’m sharing this in case someone out there needs to read it.

In case someone out there is thinking they’re not brave enough or extroverted enough or smart enough. In case someone out there is scraping together enough courage to run at their own invisible fence, whatever that fence might be.

I want to tell you: You’re braver than you think. You can be scared and do something anyway. You can learn things, you can meet new people. You are who you choose to be.

Maybe I’m sharing this because I need to admit how scary this year has been. By business standards, the risk was tiny. By Cynthia standards, it was almost insurmountable. I ran through fire to get here.

And you know? I’m still standing.

Not just standing. DANCING. Because I’ll tell you, it’s pretty good on this side of the fence. My teeny, tiny business is doing okay! I’ve met all kinds of awesome people!! I no longer wake up in a panic (most nights) and I’ve started to run again, woo hoo! I’m restoring balance in my home life (though my house is still a mess).

Most importantly, I’ve learned that so many of my limiting beliefs were a mirage. I’ve cultivated strengths in myself that I never expected to possess. 

I don’t know where this road will take me, but I like the view looking forward. . . And no matter what, I’m glad I started traveling this strange new path. It’s changed me and I like this Cynthia better. She’s still afraid, but her fear isn’t running the show. One day at a time, she’s struggling to be the person she really, wants to be. . . And she’s getting there.