I mentioned the other day a fun shift in my clientele as of late. Whereas almost 100% of my clientele used to consist of complete strangers who stumbled onto my site in one way or another, my current roster is made up almost entirely of friends, peers, and return clients.
Actually, to fully illustrate, last quarter (which was my biggest quarter to date) about 90% of my income came from people that I know, either online or in "real" life.
I've thought a lot about what this shift means, what I'm doing to cause this shift, and what I really fell about it.
What This Means
On one hand, I was freaking out last quarter, because – for some reason – getting "new" clients (you know, people I don't know) feels more like business growth, and I felt like I wasn't growing because I wasn't getting any fresh meat.
(Haha! I really don't like that metaphor, but whatev.)
Obviously, that freaking out was all for naught, as it totally ended up being my most profitable quarter ever. Part of this feeling is because working with people I already know and love doesn't feel like work to me. So, pretty much, I feel like I didn't work much last quarter, even though I really seriously did.
But, I am kind of missing the fresh meat.
Then, on the other hand, I'm loving working with people that I already know and love. I'm helping friends and peers launch and grow their businesses, like Bluewater Brewing, Connecting the Gaps, and some label design for Shirey Ice Cream. And I have old clients returning to beef up and expand their presence, like Braid Creative, Lauren Liess, and Cashmere Suitcase, or the insane number of other clients who have gotten me (and Corey) to do countless hours of maintenance over the past few months.
These are all projects that I know I'm going to love from the get-go. That's why I call these clients my homegirl or homeboy clients. I can count on them to be awesome because I know them, we've worked together, and we just get each other.
When my friends and peers trust me, and my old clients value me enough to return, that means one thing to me: I'm doing my job real right.
What I'm Doing To Cause This
Dude, I don't know, other than doing my job real right. For me, attracting my dream client means attracting people who I can work seamlessly with, who allows me to be creative, and who will simply rock out their business.
These friends, peers, and return clients are just that. They're my dream client, and if I'm attracting them (back, in some cases) then I'm simply positioning myself to be exactly what we both want. I'll just call it magic.
What I Feel About It
Grateful. Intimidated. Grateful.
There's a bit more of a push to live up to perceived awesomeness when a friend hires you. But being trusted by a friend is the most gratifying feeling in the world.
So effing grateful.
Want to be my next homegirl or homeboy client? Get in touch >>
On November 11th the first of my Get Your Shit Together Subscription email newsletter goes out, so if you need some help getting your own shit together, and rock the h-e-double hockey sticks out of your creative life and business, then subscribe now. It's gonna be real awesome. Subscribe now >>
I wrote a blog post once about some investments I've made in my business, and how important it is to put money into your biz. It's a post that I bring up all the time when talking to creative friends and clients, and it's a subject I find myself constantly wanting to revisit and clarify. So, here we go.
Making investments in my business is something that I make very important. It's right up there with paying myself, and maybe sometimes a bit more important, depending on the situation. For example, I plan to take a small pay cut next month to invest in a new bomb-diggity iMac. This doesn't bother me, as I know that investing in that new (larger, faster, and shinier) iMac will make me more productive, which equals maybe a pay raise in the near future.
So, investing money back into my biz is crazy-important to me. And for lots of reasons.
buying important things = more productivity = more money
Like that iMac, putting my money and research time into purchasing things for my biz that will make me more productive = Emily for the win.
For another example, I recently dished out $600 for some project management software (and will soon be adding $300 more). Since hiring on David as project manager, my Five Star notebook note-taking system just wasn't quite cutting it anymore. Shooting paper planes across the studio isn't the most efficient way of getting shit done (but sure sounds way fun).
For my clients, this almost always comes up when they fret about the expense of a new website. May I site Evy and Jessica and Bob as proof that putting in the dough brings in the dough (if you do your part, too, of course)? 'Nough said.
paying employees = good economic karma
I believe in economic karma. If you help boost the economy of someone, then you'll get a boost too, in some way. So woo woo, but I believe it. I like to practice this in two main ways: supporting small businesses and paying employees.
Sure, I could work my ass off 24/7 and do all my work all on my own, but 1) I would hate my life and work and 2) being a tight-wad doesn't help anyone. I would rather hire some help, pay them well (what I pay David and Corey is pretty damn good), and allow us to all live happier lives working a job we love that doesn't leave us feeling undervalued. And that equals good economic karma.
setting intentions = dominating goals = whoa growth
I try to always set intentions when I make a time or money investment in my biz. If I put the time and money into the new studio to make it awesome, what do I want in return? What I want is to become a local role model of what a creative can accomplish, and position myself to bring in $100,000 / year.
What about that new iMac? I want it to allow me to design and develop more efficiently, and allow me to comfortably take in more projects. It will also allow me to retire my current iMac to Corey, who works on a PC (I know, don't judge the poor guy), allowing him to be more streamlined with my process, allowing us to both work more efficiently together.
Each investment has an intention. No meaningless spending going on here.
putting things in motion = making room for growth
I totally get woo woo when this comes up, and envision a big give-and-take in the universe. I call this making room for growth. I do the same when I buy clothes for Cute Kid a size too big. I plan on her growing into them. And – sure enough – within a few short months she's in the quite nicely. I don't buy them ridiculously big, but just enough thinking ahead so that I'm not squeezing her into shoes a size too small, and potentially stunting the growth of her foofies. So, take that analogy, and make it fit your biz. Make room for growth.
Every time I commit to investing in my business, whether it's investing time to plan a cool blog series (which equated to gaining almost 100 Facebook followers and almost 300 newsletter subscribers), hiring Corey and David (which gives me time to do what I love, and be more proactive about bringing in the dough), or paying out for some project management software (hello, seamless productivity!), there's always a positive effect. I always book the clients to recoup the investment. I always see extended growth.
I'm always moving forward.
And for my clients, when they hire me on to design their website, manage their eCourses, or hussle their email marketing, (given they're being clear about their own intentions and effectively putting them into motion) there's marked growth. Sometimes more than we'd ever have imagined.
I see this all the time. The month that I committed to hiring David and investing in the project management software ended up being my biggest financial month. The month that I commit to moving the studio, I was hired by three local creatives. Making room for growth = you make magic happen.
If you're looking to make room for some growth of your own, and think a website is how you'd like to do it, check out my offerings and get in touch. I'm currently booking projects for November and December.
Yesterday was a big day for us around the studio. We went by yesterday evening and picked up the keys to our new studio. Happy dances may have been involved.
We're pretty sad to be moving out of what we've been affectionately calling "the space" for the past 10 months. But, as Indie Shopography grows, we're ready to devote 100% of our work-life to it, and the clients that have made it grow so much.
As for the new studio, we will be taking the next few weeks to show it some serious love. We're painting the disgustingly blue walls a nice clean white, refacing the ceiling (after peaking above the tiles today we're pretty sure we won't be able to rip that sucker down soon, so we're thinking of doing something like this), and maybe an art installation. And definitely some new lighting, as this girl won't be slaving away under fluorescents for long. The horror.
We had planned to slowly move into the new studio over the next two months, but a recent fire a block from Indie Spaces has a downtown business temporarily occupying our space while their building gets refitted. We're excited to hand over our much-loved space to The Wine Seller, and – granted the city council isn't a pain this evening – they'll be back open for business in our old space by the end of the month. Meaning we need to be out by then. Eek! Hello, deadlines.
So David and I will be spending the next few days painting, organizing for utility transfers, and getting our new studio decked out for stylish occupancy. We hope to have an official opening in December/early-January, and I'm sure I'll be sharing our progress along the way. At the moment I'm just happy things are moving along smoothly, and that I have a big new space to do my happy dancing.
I recently realized that I may be one of the most committed designers that I know.
Ok, that's totally just me being a bit big-headed, but I had that thought a lot last week, as I was going through my very first ever juice cleanse.
You see, as my biz is growing I'm finding myself with some really awesome opportunities. A recent one is with my client-friend Claire from Vidya Cleanse, who has hired me to help turn her guided juice cleanse offering into an online experience. We'll call it an eCourse, for lack of a better term, for the moment.
As I've worked a lot lately with these online experiences (as developer and eSales manager for Braid Creative, designer and developer for Mama Hussy, and working on a current project for Connecting the Gaps – which launches tomorrow, and soon to begin work on a local project involving video) I'm finding that developing these experiences works a lot better if I can go through the process myself. It's easier to develop and plan as an insider than it is to do it from the outside.
So, when Claire contacted me to help her turn her guided cleanses into an online experience, I knew I had to go through the process myself. I needed to have the consultations, deal with the shopping list, make the juices, and experience the support for myself. So, I hired Claire to guide me through my first cleanse.
Holy sh*t, guys. It was the hardest thing I've ever done.
Since recently coming off Whole30, I do believe that that experience lend itself largely to my cleanse, but it was still super hard. And, I'll tell you, I never could have done it without Claire there with me.
I'll be totally honest and admit that I had dinner on day 2, and a little cup of veggie soup for lunch on day 4. But, for the other days, I rocked it like a super star. And by super star I mean that I went to work every day with a little The Very Hungry Caterpillar lunchbox filled with an ice pack and three juices.
And all the while I kept thinking how I may be a bit crazy: going days without food (I cheated, so even that's not true) for a client project.
Regardless, I'm ready to rock the planning of the Vidya Cleanse online guided cleanse. Our goal is to have the first session in January, so get to planning. Or, if you want to do a guided cleanse now, get in touch with her. If you've ever wanted to do a cleanse, you have to do it with Claire. She's magical.
This past weekend I finally finished up some tea that I purchased in Paris almost 2 years ago. I've been savoring it for a while, not wanting it to disappear. I pour a big hot cup, stick my nose in the steam, close my eyes, and inhale memories of Paris. It's real dramatic, and ridiculous, but I didn't want it to end. Ever.
So, I was moping around a bit, looking at the pretty tin, when I had a moment of thought that I'm not really familiar with: I didn't want to throw it away.
I'm one of those people that will throw anything out. I don't hold onto things just for the sake of holding onto things. This stems from coming from a family that finds sentimental value in everything, and I just don't have time for that.
But that pretty little mint-colored tin was sitting there holding a lot of sentimental value, and I couldn't just ditch it. Then I got an idea.
David has been moving our succulents inside in preparation for the impending winter. (David's quite a succulent horticulturist. We joke that he should start a succulent business called 'David's Succs' because we're immature and that's sounds a lot like 'David sucks.') Seeing my little tin sitting near the kitchen display of succulents had me wanting to adopt a succulent for myself, and give it a home in my little Paris tin.
I immediately got really excited, told David my plan – for which he got a bit excited too, he loves playing with his plants – and we immediately went outside, picked out the perfect little plant, and moved him into my tea tin. He's right at home.
Now I feel as if adopted a little puppy, giving it a pet every time I walk by. He'll soon find himself as a permanent fixture on my new desk, in my new studio.
Yep, we got a new studio. More on that later. Right now I wanna dote on my Paris tin succulent. Maybe he needs a name.
