Planet Home

This past Saturday I set up my grills at an event called "Planet Home," put on by Northeast Seattle Neighbors' Sustainability Network. It was a sweet festival at the Hunter Tree Farm, with the space divided into areas representing the different rooms of a house.

When the organizers first contacted me about vending there, my first reaction was that it didn't sound like the kind of event where I could make any money. The health department fee structure makes it nearly impossible for a business like mine to make a profit at an event like this: we're supposed to pay a $255 permit fee to set up even if it's just for one day, even if it's a tiny event. Some vendors don't bother with the permits and they generally don't get caught, but that's not my style.

My second thought when I considered vending here was that there are many reasons to choose an event, and money is just one of them. I knew I probably wouldn't lose money because it would have to be a lethally slow day to not make back the cost of the permit, and I had 4 markets the next day so I'd be able to use any unsold product. All I was really risking was my time.

I ended up doing just a little better than breaking even, and I was glad I was there. One interesting feature of this event (from a business point of view) was that nearly everyone paid with small bills. I always pay attention to the bill denominations because they give information about spending patterns. When lots of people pay with large bills early in the day, it usually means it's going to be a good day. In low income neighborhoods people tend to pay with large bills early in the month and smaller bills as the month wears on. At well advertised special events there are so many people paying with big bills that it's nearly impossible to bring enough change. This was probably the only one-day event I've ever done where I ended the day with more change than when I started. It wasn't about money.

I realized, though, that this kind of sustainability-based event fits my values so much better than a big budget event like the Green Festival. Real sustainability isn't commercial. It isn't flashy or glitzy. It's neighborhood-based. It's reused, homemade, and it's proud of its handwritten signs.