Submitted by Lara Capuano
Confessions of a Pretend Artist
I do not believe myself to be an artist. This is sort of a risky place to confess this, but in the spirit of transparency, I confess. I am really just faking it.
When I started Piccadilly Rose – my business – it was a total fluke. It all started on a shopping trip in Portland, Oregon while visiting a friend. I was wearing one of my handmade headbands (which I believe was really just a couple of fabric flowers that I had hot glued to a headband) when a shop owner asked where I got it. When I explained that I had made it myself the questions continued.
Do I sell them locally?
Ummm yes? (Lie. But a slightly prophetic lie at least, since I did end up selling them locally.)
Would I consider selling them in her shop?
Of course. (Not a lie, more of a panic response.)
Do I have a spring line I could bring by?
Indeed I do. (Lie. Again.)
Could I bring it by tomorrow?
Sure, that’ll be plenty of time, since… uhhh… I didn’t make up that “spring line” or anything.
So, one can understand why I feel a bit like a phony. Because I ACTUALLY AM ONE! Still, I whipped up that “spring line” overnight and the shop owner bought and sold every single piece I made in her store.
I decided that if I could pretend to have a business on the west coast, I could pretend to have a business here in Rochester. I have been making unique and lovely headbands, belts, bridal veils, dance and theatre costumes and accessories ever since. I repurpose fabric, vintage beads and antique buttons to create upcycled, sustainable fashions. I’ve been relatively successful in my nearly 5 years of pretending to be an artist. I don’t know how many years of faking my way through it all before I feel like I really am doing this… but I think I am getting close.
As a stay-at-home mom to five beautiful children, two of whom came to us through adoption, this little pretend business is my way of helping to defray the costs of our adoptions and some subsequent medical costs. Please stop by my booth this year to say hello, meet my gaggle of children, and check out my “fall line.”
This time, I promise, it really does exist.