It was never in my business plan to spend my weekends trading in person at markets.
It's fair to say that was actually the opposite of my plan. I left my job for more freedom. The freedom to hang out at the allotment whenever the sun came out, to travel more, and to avoid turning my spare room into a stockroom.
The whole digital nomad, slow‑living, location‑independent dream didn’t exactly include lugging crates of stuff all over the Westcountry at 7am on Saturdays.
Then I met Kathryn from Shirehampton Market at a Ladies Who Latte networking event, and she did such an excellent job of selling me on the idea of having a stall that I found myself saying yes before my brain had caught up. So I took a punt. And that punt turned into a spring & summer of markets. So many stories, mishaps, lessons, and lovely community spirit.
Shirehampton: The First Stall & The First Lessons
My first market was back in April at Shirehampton. It was quiet, but lovely. I met some genuinely kind fellow stallholders, sold enough to cover my fee, and by the end of the day left tired, but in a good way.
My husband Graham unexpectedly volunteered to help. He's since become my unofficial business partner, logistics manager, and stall staff.
I started learning lessons quickly:
Lesson 1: Everything is easier with two people
Loading, unloading, bagging items while I take payments. It just all runs smoother when you’re not doing it alone.
Lesson 2: Bring snacks
A flask of tea, bottles of water, something to nibble. Otherwise, every penny you make will mysteriously migrate to the street‑food stalls.
Lesson 3: Business karma is real
When you say genuinely nice things about other people’s work, when you share their stalls, tag them in Reels, and celebrate what they’re creating, the market loves you back. The energy shifts. I must remind myself to share the love and not get so swept up in the hustle of my own stall.
Lesson 4: Make content on the day
Reels filmed at the market always perform well, especially when you tag other stallholders. It creates buzz, community, and a sense of “you had to be there”.
Lesson 5: Less is more
My first stall was overflowing. I overheard someone call it “bric‑a‑brac” (ouch). That comment stung, but it was the best feedback I could have received. A theme, a pared‑back palette, and breathing space make it easier for people to actually see what you’re selling. The rest can live under the table until needed.
Lesson 6: Be organised
Checklists. Enough packaging. A dedicated admin box for money, leaflets, tissue paper, bags, stickers. A trolley packed sensibly. It all matters more than you think. Panic on the day leads to breakages and stress!
Venturing Further: Taunton, Portishead & Beyond the Bristol Bubble
Once I got the bug, I ventured further afield. I've had stalls at Taunton, Portishead, & Sea Mills. Each market had its own personality, its own demographic, its own quirks.
In Taunton, I seemed to appeal particularly to people on mobility scooters! In general, though, my stall attracts people who dress in bright colours, they're my people.
Even those who don’t stop for long often pause, smile, and take in the colour. That moment alone is worth so much. It tells me I’m hitting the right notes, bringing the joy!
I wouldn't want this to come across as cynical, but genuinely complimenting people as they pass the stall always creates a connection. It invites them to stop and linger a moment. If I love someone’s dress, bag, hat, earrings, etc. I tell them. Even if they don’t buy a thing, I’ve still made their day and that has it's own rewards.
The Chaos Files: Market Day Dramas
Of course, it hasn’t all been serene slow‑living bliss.
There was the time I broke a vase at the Sea Mills Flower Show and loudly declared “oh shit” in a church hall.
Or the day in Taunton when I left the boot of the car open all day and drained the battery. The recovery truck was a four‑hour wait, so I wandered around the market as everyone was packing up, asking if anyone had jump leads. Thankfully, a friendly stallholder in an old van came to the rescue.
The Truth Bomb: ROI isn't cutting it Financially (yet)
Markets are a lot of work for not a lot of financial return. I haven’t made enough to pay myself or Graham, but I have covered my fees and costs each time, and the bank balance always looks healthier after an event.
But the real return? Community. Confidence. Colour. Conversations. Real‑time reactions to my work. The joy of seeing someone smile at my stall even if they don’t buy a thing.
That’s the stuff that keeps me coming back.
Looking Ahead
I’ve applied for a Christmas market in Bristol (yes, in July - applications open early).
Fingers crossed 🤞
Otherwise, I’ll be taking a little summer break, reclaiming my Saturdays, and deciding which autumn markets to try next.
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