As I mentioned a few posts back, I’ve been running my own webshop since a few months: BeautyMelon. This is not meant to be a sales-talk, but more of an insight in the life of a small webshop owner. Because running your own make-up store sounds fabulous, is sometimes breathtakingly hard, but at the end is mostly one of the most incredible experiences of my life.
It sounds like a dream: doesn’t it? Receiving tons of make-up, swirling around in your own private stock filled with infinite nailcolours and blushes and eyeshadows and lipsticks and every other product you’ve always loved so much. Now they’re all there. Ready to touch. Screaming to be used. And most of all yours.
But not really. The gorgeous nailpolishes quickly become numbers. And the horror if a label is missing! Try sorting them by colour in dimming daylight when there are twenty hues of the same purple (which was so fabulous before, remember?) Even worse: realising you’ve sorted a colour wrong just when someone orders it. Having to painstakingly explain you made a mistake (I’m sooooo sorry), getting angry at yourself and resorting, recounting, relabeling to make sure it doesn’t happen again. But ofcourse it happens. Because the darkest of blues can sometimes look black. And ofcourse the label was missing.
Printers that don’t print, masking tape that doesn’t stick, papercuts, eyeshadows falling on the floor, misreading a label, forgetting the post doesn’t deliver on Sunday, being 100% sure you have one of the eyeshadows left and finding out you don’t. Gone is the glitz of the nailpolish topcoats, the glow of the golden highlighters and the satin finish of the lipsticks. All that’s left is hard work.
But at the end of the day, oh my. I sit down and look at my website. My. Website. Which is not the prettiest (yet), not perfectly optimised (yet). But it is mine. And I get an e-mail. Saying the package is well-received and the nailpolishes are gorgeous and the service is oh so great.
And I feel all happy and warm and fuzzy. And thankful for the opportunity. And I think of the rainbow of nailpolishes waiting for me to get to work. And I smile.