Taking better pictures :)

For the past two years, I have been limited in my ability to produce quality photographs for my listings. I have improvised in ways that have been appropriate to my means, and my abilities, but I have known that certain listings have gone unnoticed because of the quality of the photographs in them.

Van over at Thrift Core posts regularly about the quality of her online shop as connected with the quality of her photographs. It took me a long time to get the hint, but in the past couple weeks, I have had some extra energy to spare, and the photograph you see here is an example of what I came up with. I'm pretty proud of myself right now. I like getting better at things.

Taking better pictures means taking them more than once. It means getting the background right, getting the lighting right, and editing appropriately. This is all time consuming, and I'm not one for time consuming tasks. I like the searching and the finding. The photographing and listing are more difficult for me. I've come to a point where I can make it happen, and do it well, but I still struggle sometimes. I have yet to make any clothing look as good as this giraffe looks :)

Laziness & Photographing Textiles

Vintage Vera Neumann Curtain - A Rare Find!

So I have a ridiculous procrastinating habit with photographing textiles. They're so big! So yesterday, I faced my fear and did a bunch all at once, just laid them in the driveway in the early morning light, and shot the hell out of them. Yeah, so it's not professional, but it got the job done, and in the end, that's really all that matters.

In my professional, non-eBay life, I deal a lot with the term laziness. People tell me that they don't/can't do something because they're "lazy". And in response, without fail, I say, "Bull. Laziness doesn't exist. Find another word." It's my shtick. It's my higher self speaking, because in my darker moments, I am just as likely to think those same things about myself. But I don't want to be a person that ever talks about myself that way. Would I say that to a friend in a condescending way? Would I insult them like that, or would I be understanding and acknowledge their weariness/exhaustion/pain and need for rest? Probably the latter.

Calling yourself "lazy" is a cop-out. It's the end of the sentence. Nothing can follow it. It prevents you from digging deeper and figuring out what's really going on. It prevents you from acknowledging your own humanness and forgiving yourself from being imperfect and a non-superhero.

So forgive yourself already and take a nap.

Word.

All the way to the end

I have taken the week off of thrifting and have committed to getting more of my inventory (i.e. overflowing box in my living room) listed. It seems to be going fairly well, if you don't include the rude intrusion of various humongous problems that shall not be listed here. I spent all of Monday photographing and listing, and that went very well. I have noticed, however, that there is a certain point where I have so much stuff that I have difficulty finding an item that has already been bought and paid for! When I had 100 items in my eBay shop, this was never a problem. But for some reason, 150 crosses that invisible line.

I have a couple dresses that need to be photographed. This photo reminds me that one of them is a vintage wedding dress. I tried to photograph it once before, but I just couldn't find the right light and surroundings to do it justice.

Now here's the important stuff that has nothing to do with the thrift store aspects of thrifting, prompted by the recent shootings in Seattle, by which my community has been affected directly: Life is really, really crappy, and life is really, really wonderful, and it's all jumbled up together in a big indistinguishable blob where you don't know which end is up, and whether suicide is a good option, or the stupidest option of all. In life, we will experience losses that will change us forever, scar us forever, and that is just how it is. There will always be grief, and there will always be loss, and our job sometimes is to ride the wave smoothly, even when the pain is unbearable.