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Photo by Beverly & Pack courtesy of Flickr Creative Commons.

Today is July Fourth, the American Independence Day and the birthday of the U.S. And how awesome is it that in this land in this time, we still enjoy the freedoms of entrepreneurship? The decision of how we earn a living, support our families, and put our gifts and talents to use in this world are still our choice. What a glorious blessing this is.

Today is a day to celebrate independence in all its forms, and for indie business owners — retailers, artists, designers, musicians, restaurants, and solopreneurs and minipreneurs of all types — this is a day to thank our lucky stars {and stripes} that we get to create our own work in this world. Let’s decide to never, ever take this freedom for granted.

What form of indie-ness are you celebrating this weekend?

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At two different times, my boyfriend’s dad has unknowingly referred to Facebook as Spacebook and as MyFace. If I ever need to laugh, I just call up the memories of him saying this. I love accidentally hilarious misnomers.

But for the past year or so, talk around the web about Facebook has been no laughing matter.

{Author’s Note: If you’re here for the cocktails, keep reading. They’re a little further on into this story.}

Photo by Stewart courtesy of Flickr Creative Commons

Facebook takes a lot of flak.

People grouse about Facebook’s loose-y goose-y privacy settings {I’ll admit, the frequency with which it shakes things up is annoying}. I even saw a Tweet this week that accused Facebook of being “patriarchal.” I see lots of whining in blog posts and on Twitter about how people just don’t get Facebook. {Yet they get Twitter?} Facebook haters say they have better conversation over on Twitter.

“Well,” — to quote Chris Farley’s “in a van down by the river” character from SNL‘s days of yore — “la dee friggin’ da!”

Today I’m taking a stand which I guess is, apparently, renegade in the world of social media.

I love Facebook.

And not because I discovered it way back when I was kid and have “grown up with it.” I did not. I’ve been on Facebook for only a couple years now, starting out with a personal page to connect with offline friends and family only, and adding on business pages first for my now-closed shop and later for Abby Kerr Ink.

I love Facebook because I’ve found genuine cameraderie and meaningful conversation there. To me, my interactions there feel more personal than on Twitter or LinkedIn. {Don’t get me wrong — I definitely dig Twitter. LinkedIn, I could take or leave.}

Reframing Facebook For the Haters {and the Wannabe Lovers}

I understand why you might be a Facebook hater. Or a JNGF-er {Just Not Getting Facebook}. {Yes, I said effer.} Facebook isn’t all that much fun when you’re just looking at it in a literal sense: as a cold, bland interface where you have to remember to remind people that you’re still here, and try to tempt them to do business with you without annoying them.

And it gets really repetitive when you’re just talking about selling your stuff all the time. Or trying to make meaningless small talk sound engaging and natural because you think that’s what you’re supposed to do with social media.

I use a fun metaphor to reframe Facebook for myself. Maybe this’ll work for you, too.

Every time I log onto Facebook, I imagine myself meeting face-to-face with the people who have already said yes to me. At the time I’m writing this post, that’s 162 people who have “opted in” to my Facebook page through the Like button. That means they have lent me their ear — or actually, a moment on their News Feed — and if I want to keep their attention and create a relationship that may lead to something even better for both of us, then I’d better make their interactions with me worthwhile.

So each time I go to make a Facebook Status Update, I pretend I’m leading a workshop on an area in which I have expertise. Somedays, the workshop is about copywriting, or indie retail, or the creatively entrepreneurial lifestyle, or naturally niche-y marketing. These are topics I love, am passionate about, and have good shareable experiences within. And I pretend that my Facebook page “likers” have chosen to join me for a workshop today on one of those topics. So every time I post something on Facebook, it’s as if I’m delivering a soundbite from the workshop.I’m teaching, not just talking. I’m looking for a way to connect what I want to share with my right people to an immediate need or an urgent desire of theirs. And I make sure that it’s something short, actionable, inspiring, and worth the time it takes to read and act on it.

Yes, I really pretend I’m leading a workshop when I update on Facebook. {You can giggle at me next time I post something.} It works for me. My imagination transforms a social media tool that can feel a little cold into something that feels totally personal and totally possible of inspiring life transformation with every update.

If that’s too corny for you, feel free to pass it by. But I have a feeling this will help someone.

Are you doing it wrong?

Only if you’re not enjoying it. And only if no one {or hardly anyone} is interacting with you. If you’re speaking in a way that resonates with your right people on topics they care about, they will respond. If they’re not responding, it might be because it sounds as if you’re updating for your own benefit, not theirs. But sometimes you have to ask them to respond. As in, what do you guys think? Or, anyone disagree with me? Or, feel free to share your favorite resource here.

What if my right people don’t get Facebook?

Educate them! Reframe Facebook for them. Don’t just say, “Find us on Facebook for updates.” Say, “Find us on Facebook for daily decorating tips and monthly contests” or “Connect with me on Facebook, where every day I give away one of my insider tips for rocking social media.” Give them an idea of what they’re missing if they don’t find you on Facebook. Be explicit. Appeal to your right people’s desire to be in the know, astute, savvy, and empowered. Don’t underestimate the “what’s in it for me?” factor. Give them something juicy that can help them improve their lives right now.

And at the end of the day, if you just can’t get them on Facebook, so be it.

Here come the cocktails.

Depending on your market, not all of your right people will be on Facebook or will want to be. That’s okay. No one should rely on any one social media network for all of their marketing efforts. After all, if you were throwing a little cocktail gathering along with this imaginary workshop, you wouldn’t just serve olives, would you? You’d put out some cheese and crackers, some stuffed mushrooms, maybe some prosciutto and melon. You’d pour some cocktails. {By the way, if you throw this gathering, please invite me. And make mine an Amaretto Sour.}

So keep giving those already in your Facebook following those imaginary workshop soundbites. And pass the prosciutto.

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There’s an art to a killer tagline.

But before we get to art, let’s get down to basics. If you want a killer tagline, it’s got to be clear. It’s got to be less than a mouthful {a cheekful might even be pushing it}. It can’t be silly {unless you want it to be}. It’s got to make your right person say, “Ohhhhh!” or “Sweeeeeet!” or “Coooool!” or “Yes!!!” {My college fiction professors told me every writer gets to use one exclamation point per lifetime. If I’m a cat, I guess that means I get four more after this post.}

tag line

– noun

an often repeated phrase associated with an individual, organization, or commercial product; a slogan.

courtesy of Dictionary.com

That none too inspiring definition falls so pitifully short of what wonders the right tagline can work for your niche-y enterprise. The right tagline can volley your business firmly over the net of success or it can flub and foul and land your enterprise in the bushes. {Imagine your competitor standing there all tan and cocky in his tennis whites saying, “Your ball’s over there, killer.”}

A tagline is one of my favorite things to write for a client. It’s kind of like the all-important middle name to the first name that is the business name. A boy named Garth John is a different sort of boy in our imagination than one named Garth Prince, Garth Cameron, or Garth Aloysius. The combo of the first and middle names alone conjure up entirely different characteristics, family histories, and guesses as to what “sort” of kid young Garth will become. Fair? Not really. But this is the topography of the human mind.

Let’s take for example my old business name, THE BLISSFUL. THE BLISSFUL is a name that begged for a tagline. Without one, you couldn’t have told if we were a French-y boutique, a transcendental meditation center, or a health food store. Think about it.

Our tagline was French-Inspired Finds & Furnishings. Though it worked for us, if I were starting up now, I would not choose this tagline. For three reasons: 1} I wouldn’t commit to just French — or just any one style — were I reopening a retail store, because though I love French style, it doesn’t resonate deeply enough for me on a personal level to build a whole business around it {again}, 2} Though I love the word and the meanings behind “Inspired,” it’s become sorely overused in the boutique industry over the last few years, and 3} Ditto for the word “Finds.” I have a few good taglines up my sleeve that I would pick were I ever to reopen {I won’t}. I won’t share them here, though, because I bet, in time, they’ll fit someone else’s retail concept perfectly and I’ll end up selling them to a client!

The cool thing about a tagline is that you can switch it up every several years without wreaking too much havoc on your business concept. A gentle but firm tagline tweak might be just what your niche-y enterprise needs to get your right people to wake up and say, “Whoo-hoo!” {Oops, now I’ve got three cat life exclamation marks left.}

And you can relaunch an existing biz through introducing a fresh new tagline.

So let’s get you a little closer to a killer tagline for your niche-y enterprise. We’ll break this down journalist-style.

What is a tagline?

We covered this already. See the indented quote above from Dictionary.com. Or here’s a really great little article about taglines to further clarify it for you.

Where do you use a tagline?

Anywhere you can. A strong tagline is the ultimate in brand identity copy. I think of it as a glow-y little word blip. It’s like a calling card you hand out with your mouth. {I’m laughing at this visual, too.} Most times, you’ll always want to present it along with your business name in any thing you have designed for you — logo, business card, ads, etc. {There are times you can break with this principle, but if you’re getting so much bang for your characters-on-the-page buck, why wouldn’t you use it wherever you could?}

When does a business need a tagline?

When the business name is bland; when the business concept isn’t immediately understood from the name alone; when the business relaunches or changes direction; when you’ve outgrown your old one; when the entrepreneur wants one.

Why do you need a tagline?

You don’t. But they’re a pretty powerful little bit of copy that can earn you a lot of mileage.

How do you come up with a tagline?

If you’re someone who likes to write and doesn’t mind investing some time into this, check out this lengthy, 19-step method for generating a great tagline for your business {I actually think this process is pretty cool}.

And if you just need a little inspiration for coming up with a great tagline for your business, check out this round-up of the 360 Most Famous Business Taglines.

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This is a story I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell.

Now’s the right time. Why? Because somebody asked me and caught me at a moment when I’m ready to get a little more real around here. We’ll call this somebody Nick {not his real name}. Nick’s an indie retailer with a brick and mortar store. He wrote this in the fill-in section of the survey I’m running right now: “Just tell me why THE BLISSFUL wasn’t your cup of tea anymore. Will I get burned out just at the time when I should be hitting my stride and making money??? I am too nosy to ask??? This is just something that has always stumped me as I have followed you from the start. My store is only 6 months old and it worries me that I will put all this effort in and not be here for the long haul. Thanks.”

Now that’s a blog post-worthy question.

Photo by Peter_Rivera courtesy of Flickr Creative Commons

As some of you know, in February 2010, I closed my funky French-inspired lifestyle boutique, THE BLISSFUL, which was located here in my hometown of Canton, Ohio. We were lucky enough to have some national press over our four years and grew a blog readership and a customer base for our Online Boutique, through which we sold internationally {mostly nationally, though, as those international shipments were a chore to prepare!}.

The short answer as to why I closed: I was burnt out. And I needed a change with every fiber of my being. And I was ready to take a chance on my lifelong dream of being paid to write from home {and cafés}.

I surprised people by closing the store when I did, as for all intents and purposes, my shop was on the up and up. Who closes a business — closes, not sells — on an upswing? I do want to talk about that, mostly because I want to lend courage to other entrepreneurs who need it to make a tough decision.

Lenses I Was Looking At My Shop Through Around the Time I Decided To Close It {Total Honesty Here}

My Short Term Goals

No. 1 I always knew my shop would be around for a duration of 5 years. No more. In the beginning, I thought of it as a lifestyle experiment: I wanted to see if I could build a concept into a living, breathing business that would be meaningful to other people. {Note: while this sounds heady and esoteric and maybe kinda cool, this is not a good reason to start a business.} I knew I’d close the shop after five years unless it was such an earth-shattering financial success that it would be stupid to close it — as in, if at the five year mark I were rolling in six figures take home pay, taking two vacations a year, and had a staff to work the sales floor 90% of the time so that I could focus only {only!} on the buying, the marketing, the blogging, the photography, and be the face of the PR but not spend much time working in the store during shop hours. This was my ideal role as I envisioned it. Not for every shop owner, but it was for me. When I closed the shop, we’d just completed our 4th year and I was nowhere near this goal. I was still on the sales floor 90% of the time, plus doing the buying, the marketing, the blogging, the photography, and being the face of the PR. I took one short vacation a year {a gift from my boyfriend’s parents} — tethered to my cell phone during shop hours — and didn’t take an income from the business above and beyond simply funding basic existence: car, auto insurance, health insurance, prescriptions, basic self care. Starbucks was an indulgence I really couldn’t afford. I had staff to pay. Staff I desperately needed. And there was always another retail season to buy for, another event to buy food and beverage for, another ad to pay for.

No. 2 I wanted to get myself back. Entrepreneurship can be all-consuming, and a business with an open-to-the-public storefront where just anyone can walk through the door and demand your attention even more so. A high overhead business model like independent retail, even more so. A retail concept that appeals to customers who want a “luxury shopping experience” even more so. In four years, I’d gained a considerable amount of weight, could count on two hands the number of articles of clothing I’d purchased for myself {always and only out of necessity, as in, my jeans tore}, and hadn’t enjoyed a full holiday celebration with my family more than once. I would also say I short circuited a few friendships, only stayed awake past 9:30 PM on Friday and Saturday nights under great duress, and had all but lost my short term memory. No, really. Ask my Shopgirls. What were their names again? {So kidding. Couldn’t have done it without you J, Z, L, A, and K.}

No. 3 The writing thing. Yeah, I couldn’t shake it. I wanted it. I wanted it so much more than I wanted my shop that the comparison was laughable. I missed having the stretches of time writers need to get stuff done, what’s referred to as butt-in-the-chair-time. About two years into my life as shopkeeper, I had a moment when I was really feeling my mortality. I asked myself, “When it’s time for me to leave this earth, what one thing will be really, really hard to accept not having done?” My answer was immediate and LOUD. Write a book. Claim ‘writer’ as my occupation. Get published beyond my own blog. This being an ‘impossibility’ wasn’t even on my radar. Just going for it with my whole heart would be enough. But with a behemoth of a business already on my hands, I knew it would remain a virtual impossibility {unless I forsook, you know, sleeping and eating}. And the idea of closing my store to pursue my writing wasn’t the least bit torturous. It sounded like such a relief, such a blessing.

My Long Term Realities

No. 1 The cash flow realities of a high overhead business model like specialty retail are not to be understated. Smart, comprehensive money talk around the indie retail scene is the hardest thing to come by. No one wants to divulge how their financials really shake out. So the education itself is nearly impossible to track down, and “traditional” methods of funding and budgeting for a generic small business don’t always work so well for retail. {You may not agree, but there we are.} I had no. flipping. clue. what it took to make the money work for a small shop when I got into the biz. Fortunately, I had someone on my team who had a clue, but for the most part we were operating on instinct and common sense: We made this much this week, so we can reinvest about this much. Figure we need this much for this three-inch stack of bills by the 21st. It was a highly uncomfortable way to operate, but I did the best I could. Eventually I got some experienced counsel in the realm of small shop financials and was happy to find out that what I’d been doing by instinct was pretty much “the way” of indie retail. And that the rest of making money depended on your merchandise mix, your market, the economic climate, and a bevy of other intangible factors. But that still didn’t get me out of the chokehold. You heard it here: making money in indie retail — real, you can-live-and-retire-fairly-comfortably-on-this-money — is hard. It sure as heck doesn’t happen by accident. The ones who make it look easy have deep pockets, private investors, or have been at the game a long time and know exactly how to play the cards, often sacrificing “vision” for what’s most profitable, or have lived and breathed retail their whole life and just get it from the inside out. I won’t pretend that money stress wasn’t a big factor in me wanting to jump out of retail and jump into something that just made more sense. {No pun intended.} My store’s sales per square foot were in the “you’re doing fine — actually pretty good!” range {one of the many “guideposts” by which people judge the financial health of a store}, but I found myself reinvesting at an alarming rate as our popularity grew, and paying good staff was a considerable part of it, too. I never built in a livable wage for myself, and the longer you go without doing that, the harder it becomes to add your own interests back into the equation.

No. 2 “Where is this all leading me?” I’m in my early thirties. Someday my {also entrepreneurial} guy and I will get married and start a family. We’d like to have four kids {seriously — but we’ll see what happens with that}. I’ve always thought I’d be a stay-at-home mom and make my living writing from home. Raising kids and transitioning to a new career can’t be easy. So I thought, why not get the writing-from-home part comfortably in place long before the kidlets are a reality? I never intended to lope into my shop with a baby carrier on my arm, much less ring up customers at the cash wrap while my baby cries in her Pack n’ Play in the back office. Not the life I want. I know not everyone has a skill set {like writing and coaching} that can lead to working from home, so I’m not judging here or suggesting that what feels right for me is the ideal way. But I’m clear on what I want and I’m not going to deny myself a chance to go for it.

No. 3 The “5 years and that’s it” reality. I was ready to get out after 4 years. I knew I’d be out in a year anyway. Why toil through that fifth year when the end result would be the same? The shop was going to close anyway. {The intended short-term lifecycle of THE BLISSFUL was never divulged to customers.}

My Inborn Personal Preferences

No. 1 This is a difficult point to admit because some of my former customers read this site, but if I’m going to be honest here and encourage you to be honest about your entrepreneurial desires, I have to go for it. Frontwomaning a store is too much face time with the world for me. Too much public interaction. Too much high impact interaction with strangers. Granted, many of those strangers become friends, people you enjoy seeing and have more or less personal conversations with. I still think about some of my customers every day! I’m lucky that many of my customers have allowed me to call them friends. But for the most part, I dislike talking to hundreds of people every week. Just choose not to do it. Because this is a free country and I get to choose. {So do you!}

No. 2 I needed more private, introspective, alone time. {I don’t yet have kids, so I still get this regularly.} Here’s the deal: we’re all programmed, on a DNA level, to need certain elements to feel okay. I’m not talking about liking Doritos or wanting to watch reruns of 24. I’m talking about how some people need generous doses of sunlight to feel normal. Or they need eight hours of sleep a night to function. These aren’t “nice to have’s”. These are needs. To stay sane. I need down time away from humanity. I need to go into my mental cocoon to find peace. I need this about once a day for about two hours. I didn’t get that regularly with the store. And that was incredibly painful. I knew that just closing the store would restore this area of my life and my soul to me.

So that, in a rather large nutshell, is why I left indie retail and closed my store forever. Yes, forever.

I recently had lunch with a friend who’s somewhat connected to the boutique industry. She has an enviable job writing for an online cooking and decor-oriented portal site. We hadn’t seen each other in years and I had to catch her up on why I left retail. She looked a bit puzzled when she asked, “So, retailers hire you to coach them when you didn’t want to have your own boutique?” I laughed and told her, “Yeah, I guess I’m the retail coach who hates retail.” She was quiet for one beat, then burst out laughing and said, “That’s actually pretty cool! You probably have a pretty objective perspective on the industry then.”

So let me clarify. I definitely don’t hate retail. I hate the way stuff is elevated in our society to such crazy importance. I hate the way traditional sales marketing techniques make me feel. I hate discounters who feed the desire of consumers to get the world for a song, thus devaluing the production of quality goods made with integrity by people trying to make an honest living and sustain their communities.

I love entrepreneurship. And I love a great business concept that wears a retail model. I love a business that creates a compelling experience for its customers.

And I know the boutique industry. I’ve had some pretty life-defining experiences there, good and bad. I can help indie retailers and artists get clear about what they want in the boutique industry and define the most efficient path for them to get there. I can help them avoid the common and not-so-common pitfalls of the industry. If you’re someone involved in the boutique industry and this is what you know you need right now, check out how I may be able to help.

And Nick, thanks for asking that great question. As every indie knows, you often don’t find the help you need until you ask.

In the comments, I’d love to hear from indie retailers. Can you identify with what I’ve shared here? Where do you think I’m off the mark in my estimation of what it takes to make it in this biz?

Indie designers and crafters, have you had similar experiences with growing your own business?

Passionate indie shoppers, what have I shared here that helped you see your local retailers in a new light?

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