Artist Back Alley Resources Blog

Your first table and your tenth table are barely the same activity, even though they look identical from the outside: a folding table, some art, you standing behind it hoping people stop. Here's what's genuinely different by the time you've done this ten times. You stop narrating your own booth At table one, you're explaining everything. "This is a print, this is an original, this one's from my newest series." By table ten, your setup does most of that talking for you. Clear pricing, a logical flow from cheap impulse buys to bigger pieces, signage that answers the questions people always ask, it all means you're free to actually talk to people instead of narrating a tour of your own table. Slow hours stop feeling like a verdict A dead hour on your first show feels catastrophic, like proof you shouldn't be doing this. By your tenth show you know slow stretches happen to everyone, usually tied to time of day or what's happening on the main stage, and they say almost nothing about your work specifically. You use the lull to restock, chat with your neighbor, or just sit down for five minutes instead of spiraling about it. Your setup gets faster, and more forgiving First-show setup often takes way longer than the schedule allows, because you're improvising the whole layout on the spot. By the tenth show, you've usually settled into a version of your booth you can build in under thirty minutes without thinking hard about it, because you've done it enough times that your hands know the order even when your brain's running on four hours of sleep. What tends to change, concretely, between show one and show ten Show one Show ten Improvised layout, decided on the spot A repeatable layout you can rebuild fast No float, scrambling for change A set float amount, packed the night before Pricing decided on the fly Fixed, visible pricing you rarely second-guess Every slow hour feels personal Slow hours are just slow hours Talking to every browser individually Reading who wants space and who wants conversation You get better at reading the room New vendors tend to treat every person who walks up the same way, full engagement, full pitch. By table ten you can usually tell within a few seconds who wants to browse quietly and who's actually looking to chat, and you adjust instead of overwhelming someone who just wanted to look at your prints in peace. You know your numbers instead of guessing Early on, most vendors have a rough sense of whether a show "felt good." By the tenth show, a lot of artists are tracking actual numbers: what sold, what didn't move at all, which price points people hesitated on. That data starts driving what you bring to the next show instead of restocking everything evenly out of habit. Your booth stops being a work in progress Ten shows in, most vendors have landed on a setup that fits how they actually sell, not a setup copied from someone else's table. Whether that's a compact display on a Core-tier kit for a small con, or a bigger build for full tables once you're doing larger shows regularly, it's dialed in from actual repetition, not guesswork. The nerves don't fully disappear, they just get quieter Even veteran sellers get a flicker of nerves before a new show. What changes by table ten is that the nerves don't run the whole day anymore. You know you can handle whatever the day throws at you, because you've already handled nine versions of it before. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.

Ask any artist who's been tabling for five or more years what they'd tell their first-show self, and you'll get an answer fast. It's rarely about the art. It's almost always about the hundred small operational things nobody explains because everyone assumes you'll just figure them out. Here's what actually comes up, over and over, when veteran vendors talk about their own day one. You will not sell as much as you think, and that's not the point of your first show A lot of new vendors treat their first event as a referendum on whether they should keep making art. One quiet Saturday and they're ready to quit. Veteran sellers almost universally say the first show or two is about learning your own process: how you price things, how you talk to strangers, how your setup holds up for eight straight hours. The sales come later, once you've run that loop a few times and know what you're doing. Bring more small bills than feels reasonable This one comes up constantly and it's almost funny how specific it gets. Bring around $150 in small bills and coins if you're taking cash at all, because a $12 print sale against a $50 bill with no change is a sale you just lost, and it happens more than you'd expect in the first hour of a show. Vertical space matters more than table space New vendors tend to lay everything flat on the table because that's the intuitive way to display things. Veteran sellers almost always say the same thing: get your work up off the table and into vertical space. A flat table reads as "browse if you feel like it." A booth with height, framed pieces, a clear sightline from down the aisle, reads as "come look at this." It's a completely different signal to someone walking by from twenty feet away. Things that consistently come up as day-one lessons A visible price list saves you from repeating prices out loud two hundred times a day Comfortable shoes matter more than a comfortable chair, because you'll be on your feet greeting people more than you'll be sitting A printed or digital catalog of your full range isn't optional, it's how people remember what else you make after they've walked away Your neighbor vendors are allies, not competition, and the friendships you build at your first few shows will follow you for years Your setup doesn't need to be perfect, it needs to be functional A lot of first-time vendors sink real money into a booth before they know what they actually need. Veteran sellers tend to say the opposite: start functional, adjust as you learn what your specific work needs. If you're doing prints and stickers on a half table, something like the Core tier gives you a small, tidy footprint without overbuilding before you know your real display needs. Rejections are not a referendum on your work Every veteran seller has a stack of rejected applications from shows that later invited them back once their portfolio and photos improved. It stings the first time. It stings less by the fifth time, mostly because you learn that jurying is inconsistent, subjective, and sometimes just about how many booths of your medium they already accepted that cycle. The float, the tablecloth, the tape Almost every veteran has a story about forgetting something basic on an early show, the float, extra tape, a backup phone charger for card payments. It's a rite of passage. Building a simple packing checklist after your first show, and actually using it before every show after, solves this permanently and is one of the most boring but effective habits a new vendor can build. Nobody figures this out alone The through-line in almost everything veteran sellers wish they'd known sooner is that this stuff is learnable and mostly not that mysterious once someone tells you. Ask questions. Watch how the vendor next to you runs their table. Most of the community is happy to share what took them years to figure out the hard way. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.

There's a specific moment a lot of vendors hit: you've been doing shows for a year or two with the same folding table and a couple of tabletop easels, and it's started to feel like your display is holding your work back rather than showing it off. If that sounds familiar, the new year is a good, low-pressure time to actually deal with it, before your first spring show, while you can think it through instead of scrambling.Figure out what's actually wrong first"I need a new booth" is vague. Get specific about what's not working. Is it that you're out of surface area for how much product you carry now? Is it that everything sits flat and disappears next to booths with taller displays? Is it just that it's tired-looking after a couple of seasons of wear? Each of these points to a different fix, and it's worth naming the actual problem before buying anything.Vertical space is usually the biggest single upgradeIf your current setup is mostly flat on the table, going vertical is often the single change that makes the most visible difference. Standing displays are visible from further down the aisle, which means more people actually see your work before deciding to stop, instead of only the people already walking directly past your table. A lot of alley veterans point to this exact shift, table to tiered and vertical, as their biggest jump in booth traffic.Think about how your booth will need to grow, not just where it is nowIf you're planning a bigger year, more shows, bigger tables, maybe your first double-booth, it's worth choosing a display system that can grow with you instead of buying something you'll replace again in six months. This is where a modular panel system earns its cost: you can start with a smaller footprint and add to it later rather than starting over.If you're moving up to a full 6-foot table setup and want some visual distinction from every other booth running plain black panels, the Shapeshift Duo tier is worth a look. It's a 70-panel two-tone kit, meaning you can mix two frosted colours across your build instead of running a single flat colour like most basic setups. It's not required, you can absolutely run it as one colour, but the option to add a second tone into your panel arrangement is a real point of difference walking down a long aisle of similar-looking tables.Do not skip the boring logistics questionsBefore you commit to a new setup, answer these: What's your actual most common table size across the shows you do? Build around that, not your biggest hypothetical booth. How will you transport it? Packed-flat systems save real trunk space compared to rigid shelving units. How much setup time do you realistically have on load-in day? A no-tool assembly matters more than it sounds like it would at 7am. What's your actual budget, including the display, not just what's left over after inventory and travel? Ease into it if you're not sure yetYou do not have to overhaul everything in one go. A lot of vendors start with a smaller modular kit for their tightest-budget shows and build up from there once they know it's working. If you're testing the waters, something like Core gives you a compact 24-panel base to try vertical display without committing to a full table rebuild right away. If your problem is Consider Running out of flat table space Going vertical with a tiered panel system Outgrowing a small tabletop setup A modular kit sized for a half or full table Wanting visual distinction in a crowded aisle A two-tone build like Shapeshift Duo Not sure yet, testing the idea Start smaller and build up next season A booth refresh does not need to happen all at once, and it definitely does not need to happen the week before your first show. Give yourself the runway to actually think it through, and you'll walk into the new season with a setup that fits where your business actually is now, not where it was two years ago. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.

Somewhere between wrapping up your last con of the year and January actually starting, there's a window where it's tempting to do nothing. You've earned it. But this is also the window where a couple of hours of prep saves you from a scramble in March when your first application deadline sneaks up and your inventory spreadsheet is six months stale.Here's what actually needs doing before con season kicks off, roughly in the order it matters.Audit your booth setup firstBefore you think about product, look at your display. Pull it out of storage and actually set it up in your living room or garage. Panels warp, connectors go missing, banners get creased wrong from being folded the same way for a year. You want to find the cracked panel or the missing hook in your apartment, not in a loading dock at 7am on day one.If you've been running the same flat, table-only setup for a couple of years, this is also a good time to ask whether it's still working for you. A lot of alley veterans say the single biggest jump in booth traffic came from going vertical instead of laying everything flat, simply because standing product is visible from further down the aisle. If your current setup can't go taller than a foot or two off the table, that's worth solving before you're locked into a con schedule.Check every application deadline in one sittingDo this now, not per-con as they come up. Open a spreadsheet, list every convention or market you're considering, and put the application open date, deadline, and notification date in three columns. Some of the bigger shows open applications 6-9 months out and you will absolutely forget if it's not written down somewhere. Set calendar reminders for each open date, not just the deadline, since a lot of tables sell out or get more competitive the later you apply.Take real stock of your inventoryGo through what's left from last season and be honest about it. Anything that didn't move in your last three events probably isn't going to move this year either, at least not at full price. Sort into three piles: reprint/restock, discount and clear out, and retire completely. Don't just guess from memory, actually count. It's easy to think you have plenty of a print when you've got 4 left in a folder somewhere.Get your finances in orderPull together last year's numbers if you tracked them (and if you didn't, this is the year to start). You want to know: which cons actually made money after table fees, travel, and materials, and which ones you did more out of love than profit. Both are valid reasons to apply again, but you should know which is which before you commit money to another table fee. Reconcile your float and small bills situation. Start budgeting for $150-200 in small bills per event now instead of scrambling to the bank the night before. Check your payment processor still works and your card reader battery still holds a charge. Price out any print runs or restocks you need and get quotes early, since printers get slammed as con season ramps up. Refresh your display without overhauling itYou don't need a whole new booth every year. But a tired banner, an outdated sign, or a display that's showing wear tends to read as low-effort even if your art is great. Small things: reprint a banner if the colors have faded, update your sign if your prices or offerings changed, and make sure your business cards or a product catalog are current. A physical catalog people can flip through while you're helping another customer is one of those things that feels optional until you don't have one.If you're outgrowing a smaller setup and eyeing something with more room to build tall, tiers like Shapeshift Base give you 46 panels to work with instead of starting from scratch on a totally custom build. But that's a call to make once you know your con calendar, not before.The two-week-out list Task Why it matters Test-assemble your full booth Catches missing or damaged parts while you still have time to reorder Confirm booth number and load-in time Some venues change these close to the date and don't always email you directly Print signage and price lists Printers get backed up as more vendors prep at once Pack a repair kit Tape, extra hooks, zip ties, a small tool kit for anything that comes loose Charge everything Card readers, phone battery packs, any lights in your booth None of this is glamorous. But walking into your first con of the year already knowing your numbers, your stock, and your setup is solid means you get to spend your energy on the part that's actually fun, talking to people about your work. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.

There's a specific kind of stress that comes from standing in your driveway at 6am, looking at a pile of bins, and trying to figure out if it's all going to fit in the car. Fitting an entire booth into one car trip is genuinely a skill, and like most skills it comes down to having a system instead of just winging it every time. Why this matters more than it seems A second trip isn't just annoying, it eats an hour or more out of a morning where you're already tight on time before doors open. Worse, it's how things get left behind. The banner stand that "can go in the second trip" is exactly the item that gets forgotten when the second trip turns out to not be necessary after all, or gets rushed. One trip, packed properly, forces you to actually think through what you're bringing instead of just throwing things in bins as you find them around the house. Pack in this order Panels first, flat, against the back seat or trunk wall. They're your biggest flat items and should go in as a stable base layer, not squeezed in around everything else afterward. Connectors, hooks, and the mallet in one labeled bin. Not loose, not split across two bags. One bin, one label, always in the same spot in the car. Table coverings and signage, rolled not folded. Folding creates crease lines that show up under booth lighting. Roll them around a cardboard tube if you have one. Product stock in stackable, same-size bins. Mismatched box sizes waste car space fast. If you're buying storage bins for this anyway, buy them all the same size so they stack cleanly. Point-of-sale gear (card reader, cash box, receipt supplies) in a bag that comes in with you first. This is the stuff you need immediately, so it should be easy to grab, not buried at the bottom of the trunk. Personal bag last, on top. Your overnight bag, snacks, and water bottle live wherever there's leftover space, because they're the least time-sensitive thing you're carrying. The checklist Category Items Packed? Display Panels, connectors, hooks, mallet Surfaces Table covering, table itself if not provided, risers Signage Banner, price signs, business card holder Product Stock bins, backstock, packaging/bags for sales Money Float/cash box, card reader, charger for reader Comfort Chair, water, snacks, phone charger, layers for AC Just in case Tape, scissors, spare cash, phone battery pack Print this or save it somewhere you'll actually open the morning of, not buried in a notes app you forget exists. A lot of vendors keep a version taped inside a storage bin lid so it travels with the gear itself. Choosing kit sizes with the car trip in mind If you're deciding between kit tiers and car space is a real constraint, it's worth factoring in up front. A Shapeshift Base kit (46 panels) packs into a noticeably smaller footprint than a Duo tier (70 panels) simply by panel count, and if you're working with a hatchback instead of an SUV, that difference matters more than it sounds like on paper. That's not a reason to undersize your booth if you actually need the extra display real estate, but if you're on the fence between two tiers and space in your car is tight, it's a legitimate factor to weigh alongside how much wall you need to fill. The five minute test Before you leave the driveway, do one lap around the packed car and ask: if I got a flat tire right now and had to unload everything to get to the spare, could I find the point-of-sale bag in under a minute? If the answer's no, your packing order needs a rethink. It sounds paranoid until the one time it isn't. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.

You did everything the checklists told you to do. Printed the stock, built the table, showed up early. And you still sold three stickers and a single print in eight hours while the table next to you sold out by lunch. This happens to almost everyone at least once, and it doesn't mean you should quit. First, separate the money problem from the meaning problem A slow show costs you money, that part's real and worth looking at honestly. But it's easy to let a bad sales day turn into a verdict on whether you're a real artist or whether this whole thing was a mistake. Those are two different conversations. Deal with the numbers first, calmly, before you let yourself spiral into the second one. Actually audit what happened Don't just feel bad about it, figure out why. Walk back through the day with specific questions: Was foot traffic generally slow for everyone, or just your table? Ask a neighboring vendor how their day went. If the whole aisle was dead, that's useful information and it's not about you. Could people actually see your prices from a normal walking distance? Squinting at a tiny price tag is a real reason people keep moving. Was your table readable at a glance, or did someone have to stop and study it to understand what you sell? Did you seem approachable, or were you buried behind your phone for long stretches? Was this event actually a good fit for your work? A horror art table at a kids' comic con is going to struggle no matter how good the art is. A lot of alley veterans will tell you flatly that some conventions just don't match some audiences, and no amount of table styling fixes a fundamental mismatch. That's not a reflection on your art. Keep a ranked list of shows One slow show tells you almost nothing on its own. The pattern across five or six shows tells you everything. Start ranking events after each one: revenue, table cost, how much you enjoyed it, how far you traveled. After a year you'll have a real list of which cons are worth repeating and which ones you did once and don't need to do again. This is one of the most useful habits you can build early, because it turns "that was rough" into "that specific con is a low performer for me," which is a decision you can act on. Don't overhaul everything overnight The instinct after a bad show is to blow up your entire setup: new banner, new pricing, new product line, all before the next event. Resist that. Change one or two things at a time so you can actually tell what worked. If you swap your banner, reprice half your stock, and switch to a new display all at once, and the next show goes better, you won't know which change mattered. If your display itself was part of the problem, that's a fair thing to look at. A flat table of prints laid out edge to edge is easy to walk past without noticing. Vertical space catches eyes from further down the aisle, which is the whole reason booth risers and tiered stands show up in almost every "how to stand out" video from experienced alley vendors. If you're working with a low table setup, something like the Core kit (24 panels, from $549) gives you enough vertical backdrop to lift key pieces above table height without needing a full booth build. Talk to other vendors, not just the internet It's tempting to go home and doomscroll for answers. Talking to the vendor next to you is usually more useful. They saw the same room you did. They know if it was a slow year for that specific con, if the layout put your section in a dead zone, or if something else was going on. Most artists are generous about sharing this kind of context, especially with someone clearly having a rough day. The math on one bad show Work out your actual break-even: table fee, travel, printing costs, your time. One slow show against that number might still be a net loss, and it's okay to feel annoyed about that. But if your other shows are solid, one bad one is closer to a rounding error over a full year than a reason to stop. Most working artists have at least one show a year they'd rather forget. What actually helps you keep going Give yourself the same night to feel bad about it that you'd give a friend. Then get specific about what you're changing next time, not vague ('do better'), actual: reprice this item, reposition that piece, apply to a different con next spring. Specific plans are what turn a slow show into information instead of a reason to pack it all in. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.

Nobody tells you what your first sale actually feels like. You spend weeks prepping, printing, packing, and then a stranger hands you cash for a sticker and you completely blank on what to do next. That's normal. Here's what actually happens, step by step, so you're not improvising in front of your first customer. The moment itself is faster than you think You'll probably expect some kind of build-up. In reality it's usually quick: someone picks something up, asks the price, says "I'll take it," and now you're both just standing there. The whole thing can be over in fifteen seconds if you're ready for it, or it can turn into a fumbling mess if you're digging for a bag you forgot to pack. Have your basics staged before doors open: a float of small bills and coins, a card reader charged and logged in, bags or sleeves for the product, and a pen for writing receipts if anyone asks. You don't want your first sale to be the moment you discover your reader needs a software update. Cash, card, or both Most tables take both now, and you should too if you can. Some buyers only carry a phone. Others prefer cash so they can budget it out across the whole floor. A basic card reader plus a cash float covers nearly everyone. Count your float before the day starts (a lot of vendors keep it around $100 to $150 in small bills) so you're not making change out of your own wallet. What to actually say "That'll be $12, cash or card is fine." "Do you want a bag for that, or are you good?" "Thank you so much, I hope you love it." That's genuinely it. You don't need a script beyond that. The awkwardness fades after the second or third sale, once your hands know where everything lives. The feeling afterward is weird, and that's normal A lot of new vendors describe the first sale as anticlimactic. You expect fireworks and instead you get a quiet "thanks, bye," and the person walks off into the crowd. Some artists feel a rush. Some feel nothing much at all until hours later when they're packing up and realize they actually sold something they made. Both reactions are fine. Don't let a flat feeling make you think the sale didn't matter. When something goes wrong It will, eventually, on some sale, somewhere. Your reader won't connect. You'll be out of the exact bill you need for change. You'll blank on the price of something because you re-priced it last night and forgot to update your sign. None of this is a crisis. Reader not connecting: have a backup, a phone-based payment link, or just take cash and note down their email if they want a receipt. No change: round down, or ask if they've got anything smaller. Most people are relaxed about a dollar either way. Wrong price on your sign: honor the sign's price for that customer, fix it after they've walked away. Arguing about a $2 discrepancy in front of them costs more goodwill than it's worth. Write it down Keep a simple log, even a notes app list, of what sold and for how much. On day one this feels unnecessary. By your third convention you'll be grateful you can tell which pieces actually move and which ones just look nice on the table. Your first sale is data as much as it's a moment. After the rush wears off Once you've made a few sales, the whole interaction starts to feel automatic. You'll stop overthinking the exchange and start noticing bigger patterns: which prints people gravitate to, what times of day are busiest, whether your setup is actually easy to browse. That's the real payoff of the first sale, not the money, but the fact that you now know what tabling actually feels like instead of just imagining it. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.

Setting up your booth alone for the first time is intimidating mostly because you don't know what order to do things in yet. Once you've done it once, it clicks. Here's the order that avoids the most common solo setup headaches. Before you even unload: check in and find your table Confirm badge pickup and find your assigned table number before you start hauling gear. Convention floors are disorienting when they're still half-lit and half-set-up, and wandering around with a loaded cart looking for table 214 wastes time you don't get back. Step 1: clear and measure your space Before anything goes down, confirm the table's actual dimensions match what you were told. Vendor packets are sometimes wrong, or you got moved to a different table size than you planned around. Better to know now than after you've already built a display sized for the wrong table. Step 2: build your vertical structure first Do this before anything else touches the table. Your backdrop or grid wall is the piece most likely to need adjusting, a leg that needs re-seating, a panel that's slightly misaligned, and it's much easier to fix when the table underneath it is still empty. If you're using a panel-based system, this is also the step where practicing at home pays off most. Something like the Shapeshift Duo kit locks together without tools, but knowing the sequence from muscle memory (which panels connect where) turns a 25-minute nervous fumble into a genuinely quick build. Step 3: lay your tablecloth and confirm coverage Drape it so it reaches the floor on all visible sides. Tuck or clip the back if it's against a curtain or wall, since you don't want it sliding off mid-day when your table gets bumped. Step 4: place large product first, small product last Set your bigger pieces, prints, larger merch, framed work, before the small stuff. It's much easier to arrange stickers and pins around an already-placed print than to build the small stuff first and then realize your big pieces don't fit where you planned. Work from the back of the table toward the front, so you're not reaching over things you've already arranged. Step 5: signage and pricing, last Signs and price tags go on last because they're the things most likely to get knocked around while you're still shifting product into place. Put your main sign where it's visible from down the aisle in both directions, not just facing straight on. Make sure prices are visible without anyone needing to pick an item up. Step 6: set up your money station Cash box, float counted and ready, card reader powered on and tested with a dummy swipe if your processor allows it. Keep this at one consistent spot on your table so you're not hunting for the reader mid-transaction while a customer waits. Step 7: step back and look from the aisle Walk out into the aisle and actually look at your table the way a passerby would. This is the step solo vendors skip most, since it's easy to only ever see your booth from behind the table. Check that your best pieces are at eye level, your sign is readable from six feet away, and nothing critical is hidden behind something taller. A rough timeline for one person Step Approx. time Structure build 10-15 min Tablecloth + large product 10 min Small product + signage 10-15 min Money station + final check 5 min That's roughly 35 to 45 minutes for a full solo setup once you've practiced it at home. Your first real one will likely run longer, which is exactly why the practice run and the earlier-than-you-think load-in time both matter so much. Give yourself the room to be slow today. You'll be fast by your third show. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.

Packing for your first con is a different puzzle depending on whether you're driving there or flying. Both come with their own way of making you realize, halfway through, that you own way more stuff than you thought. If you're driving The car gives you more room, which sounds like an advantage until you realize it just means you'll fill it. Pack in reverse order of how you'll need things at the venue, meaning the last box you load is the first one you'll want to unload. Your display structure should go in first (you won't need it until you're setting up the frame), then product boxes, then your "day of" bag with cash float, tape, and tech, packed last so it's grabbed first. A few things that make driving setups smoother: A hand truck or folding dolly, even for gear that feels light in your living room. It stops feeling light after the third trip from a far parking spot. Storage totes with lids rather than open boxes, so nothing shifts or spills during the drive. A rough packing list taped inside the trunk, so unpacking at the end of a long day doesn't turn into guesswork about what's in which box. If you're flying This is where things get genuinely tight. Checked bag weight limits, carry-on size limits, and the fact that your display needs to survive being handled by strangers all conspire against you. A few specifics: Standard carry-on allowance is roughly 56 x 36 x 23cm. Any display gear that packs down flat within that size travels as carry-on instead of checked, which matters a lot if your art or prints are also taking up checked bag space. Fragile display pieces (glass, foam board, anything that can't take a bump) need real padding if they're checked. Bubble wrap and a hard-sided case, not just clothes stuffed around them. Weigh your checked bags at home first. Airport counter surprises about overweight bags are an expensive way to find out you packed too much. Ship inventory ahead to your hotel or the venue if the show allows it, rather than trying to fly with boxes of prints. Many venues and hotels will hold packages for arriving vendors, worth checking the vendor packet or calling ahead. Why display choice matters more when you're flying This is the part that trips up a lot of first-time flying vendors: a display built at home out of foam board, PVC pipe, or improvised shelving usually doesn't survive a flight, or doesn't fit airline size limits at all. It's a big reason vendors who travel to shows tend to move toward something purpose-built to pack flat, like the Shapeshift panel kits, which are designed to fit within standard carry-on dimensions and go together without tools once you land, so you're not relying on a hardware store near the venue to replace something that got crushed in transit. The packing list that works for either Category Items Display Panels/backdrop, easels, signage, tablecloth Money Float ($150-200 small bills), card reader, charger Product Inventory, packaging/bags, backing boards for prints Tools Tape, scissors, zip ties, spare pens Comfort Shoes, snacks, water, a layer for cold venues Paperwork Vendor confirmation, badge, business cards Whichever way you're getting there Do a full mock packing run a few days before, not the night before. Lay everything out, load it the way you plan to load it for real, and see what doesn't fit or what you forgot. It's a lot cheaper to solve a packing problem in your living room than in an airport line or a parking lot the morning of the show. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.

The week before your first show is when all the planning either pays off or falls apart. You've had months to prepare and somehow it's still down to the wire. Here's how to spend those last seven days so show day feels manageable instead of like a scramble. 7 days out: do a full practice setup Set up your entire booth at home exactly as you plan to at the show, same table dimensions if you can mark them out, same display, same signage placement. Time yourself. This is the single most useful thing you can do all week, because it's when you'll discover the panel that doesn't click in the way you remembered, the sign that's unreadable from six feet back, or the display that's slightly too tall for the space you measured. Fix these now, not at 7am on show day with a line of vendors waiting behind you for the loading dock. 6 days out: finalize inventory and pricing Count what you actually have versus what you think you have. It's shockingly common to discover you're short on your best-selling print size or you never restocked the medium tote bags. Print your price list and double check every tag matches. Nothing kills momentum at a table like fumbling to figure out what something costs while a customer waits. 5 days out: charge and test every piece of tech Card reader, phone, portable battery pack, any lights you're using. Actually run a test transaction on the reader if your processor allows it, refunded immediately, just to confirm it's working and connected to the right account. Discovering a dead reader mid-show costs you real sales in the time it takes to sort out. 4 days out: pack your non-negotiables bag This is the bag that goes in last and comes out first. Put in it: Cash float, $150 to $200 in small bills and coins Tape (both painter's and clear), scissors, zip ties Spare pens, a phone charger, portable battery Business cards or catalog Basic first aid, blister pads especially A printed copy of your vendor confirmation and load-in instructions 3 days out: confirm logistics Re-read your vendor packet for load-in time, parking situation, and anything you might have skimmed the first time (badge pickup location, WiFi passwords for card readers, whether you need a printed vendor permit). Map your route and parking if you're driving. Confirm hotel or accommodation details if you're staying overnight. 2 days out: prep your body, not just your booth Break in your shoes now if you haven't already, not the morning of. Prep easy meals or snacks for the day so you're not relying entirely on con food, which is expensive and eats into time you could be selling. If you're not usually on your feet for eight-plus hours, this is worth taking seriously. Sore feet by 2pm will affect your mood and your sales pitch more than you'd expect. 1 day out: pack the car and sleep Pack in reverse order of how you'll need things, so the last item loaded is the first one you unload. Lay out your outfit. Set two alarms. Resist the urge to do one more "quick" project the night before, whether that's printing extra stock or building one more display piece. Rushed last-minute additions are the ones most likely to fall apart on show day. Show day morning Eat something before you leave, even if you're too nervous to feel hungry. Get to load-in earlier than the packet suggests, since it almost always takes longer than advertised once you factor in parking and finding your actual table among identical rows. Set up methodically: structure first, then product, then signage and price tags last, since those get knocked loose easiest while you're still building everything else around them. By the time doors open, the hard part is already done. Everything from here is just talking to people about the thing you made, which is honestly the fun part. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.

Wether it's your first or third time stepping into Artist Alley its always an adventure, and we're here to ensure your booth is a success. This guide provides the essential checklist and top tips to level up your display. Key items include your art (prints, stickers, charms, etc.), personalised tablecloths and decorations, and clear signage with pricing. A seamless setup starts with our customisable booth panels, available in exclusive colours like vivid pink and classic black, which are designed to help your art stand out, save table space, and make setting up easier (with optional early pick-up for Sydney artists). Remember to be prepared for sales with a tested cash float and card reader, and pack crucial supplies like portable storage, safety gear (hi-vis vest and enclosed shoes for bump-in), and plenty of snacks. For a smooth debut, plan your layout at home, arrive early, engage with visitors, and take notes on what sold well. To stay organised, be sure to download our free Event Planner & Checklist, which includes a mini booth sketcher. Good luck, and happy selling!

You've got applications open for a 300-person local market and a 15,000-person regional con happening the same month, and you can only reasonably do one right now. Which one do you pick for your actual first show? It depends less on which is "better" and more on what you're trying to learn. The case for starting small A small local market is a low-stakes place to make your first-timer mistakes. Forgot your float? Fewer customers means fewer moments where that actually costs you a sale. Table collapsed because you didn't practice setup? You've got room to fix it without a line already forming. Small shows are forgiving in a way that lets you learn the physical and logistical side of vending, packing your car, setting up on time, handling cash, talking to strangers all day, without a huge crowd amplifying every mistake. Small shows are also cheaper to test with. Lower table fees mean a disappointing sales day costs you less, and you get to try out your pricing and product mix before committing bigger money to inventory for a large show. The case for going big first A bigger convention gives you more raw foot traffic, which means more data. If ten people walk past your table at a tiny market, you learn very little about which pieces catch attention. If a thousand people walk past at a big con, patterns show up fast, you'll see clearly what stops people and what doesn't. Big shows can also be worth it purely for audience-building even if your sales-to-effort ratio isn't great yet, since the exposure compounds in a way a 40-person market can't match. The tradeoff is that mistakes are more visible and more costly. A wobbly display or a disorganized table doesn't just lose you one sale, it can lose you dozens across a long, busy day, and there's rarely a break in the crowd to fix things mid-show. A rough way to decide Small show first Big show first Cost of mistakes Low Higher, more visible Data you get Limited (low traffic) Rich, fast feedback Financial risk Lower table fee, lower inventory needed Bigger fee, more stock to prep Good if You're still figuring out setup, pricing, cash handling You've tabled informally before (markets, school fairs) and want scale What actually matters more than the size Whichever you pick, the thing that determines how your first show goes is less about attendee count and more about whether your setup is dialed in before you get there. A shaky display or a table you've never assembled outside the box it came in will cause you more grief at a big show than a small one, simply because there's less slack in the day to fix it. This is where it helps to build your table around something reliable from day one rather than cobbling together mismatched pieces you'll replace later. A kit like the Shapeshift Base, which scales from a small counter setup to a full 180cm table, means you're not redesigning your whole booth the moment you move from your first small market to a bigger show a few months later. Our honest take If you've never tabled anything before, not even a school fair or a small craft market, start smaller. Learn the mechanics of the day without a few thousand people watching you figure it out. If you've already got some experience selling in person and you're confident in your setup, there's a good argument for skipping straight to the bigger show and getting the exposure sooner. Neither choice is wrong. The mistake is picking a show size based on what looks impressive rather than what you're actually ready for. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.

You applied months ago, got in, and now the show is close enough that you're lying awake running through worst-case scenarios. That's normal. Almost every vendor goes through some version of this before their first table. The trick is knowing which nerves are just nerves and which ones are your gut telling you something you should actually fix. Normal: worrying nobody will stop at your table This is probably the single most common fear, and it happens to people who go on to have great shows. You can't know in advance how a room full of strangers will react to your work. Sitting with that uncertainty is uncomfortable, but it's not a sign anything is wrong. The mindset that helps most: apply, prep as well as you can, and face the actual nerves on the day instead of trying to talk yourself out of them beforehand. Normal: feeling like your prices are wrong Too high, too low, you'll probably flip-flop between both fears in the same week. This is common enough that it's almost a rite of passage. Look at what comparable artists charge for comparable work and comparable materials, set your prices, and hold them. You can always adjust for next show. You don't have to get it perfect on the first try. Normal: dreading the setup process If you've never physically built your booth before show day, of course it feels intimidating. Do a full practice run at home first, actual table, actual display, actual timer running, before you're doing it for real in a loading zone with people waiting behind you. Most "I'm going to mess up setup" anxiety evaporates the second you've done it once in your living room. Normal: worrying you'll freeze up talking to customers Plenty of artists are more comfortable drawing than making small talk with strangers for eight hours straight. You don't need to be a natural extrovert to sell well. A simple "hey, thanks for stopping by" and answering questions honestly gets you further than a rehearsed sales pitch ever will. It gets easier by your third or fourth conversation of the day, every time. Worth listening to: a nagging feeling your display isn't ready If part of you keeps thinking "this tri-fold board is going to fall over" or "I don't actually know how this shelf attaches," that's not generic nerves, that's useful information. Fix it now, not at 7am on show day. Test your full setup at home under time pressure before you're relying on it in public. Worth listening to: dreading a specific logistical gap If you catch yourself thinking "I still don't know how I'm getting all this to the venue" or "I haven't figured out change for cash sales," that's a real gap, not anxiety. Nerves are diffuse and hard to pin down. A real problem is specific and has an actual fix. If you can name exactly what's bothering you and there's a concrete action that resolves it, do the action instead of just sitting with the worry. Not normal, and worth pausing on: dread that doesn't lift once you're prepared Some pre-show nerves are supposed to fade once you've done the prep work, practiced setup, sorted your float, packed your car the night before. If you've done all of that and you still feel a heavy, specific dread rather than ordinary jitters, it's worth being honest with yourself about whether something bigger is going on, whether that's burnout, an event that genuinely isn't a good fit, or something outside of vending entirely. Tabling is supposed to be hard sometimes. It's not supposed to feel like dread that nothing touches. The nerves mostly mean you care Nearly everyone who's tabled a hundred shows still gets a version of first-show nerves before a new event, a bigger show, or a booth layout they haven't tried before. That doesn't go away entirely, and honestly, it shouldn't. It just gets more familiar, and you get faster at telling which version of it needs action and which one just needs you to show up anyway. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.

You've read the vendor packet. You've watched the setup videos. You still won't be ready for everything, because a lot of first-con lessons only click once your feet hurt and your table's half out of order at 9:47am. Here's what usually catches people off guard. Load-in takes way longer than you think The email says doors open for vendors at 8am. What it doesn't say is that there's one loading dock, forty artists trying to use it at the same time, and a volunteer who's clearly never done this before directing traffic. Budget an extra hour beyond whatever the packet tells you. Bring a hand truck or a rolling cart even if your gear feels light in your apartment, because it stops feeling light after the third trip from the car. Your neighbours matter more than your spot You can't control whether you land near the entrance or get tucked in a back corner. You can control how you treat the person next to you for eight hours straight. Say hi early, offer to watch their table when they need a bathroom break, and don't be weird about them selling something similar to yours. Some of the best cross-promotion ideas start as "hey, can you keep an eye on my stuff for a sec." The slow hours will mess with your head There's almost always a dead stretch, usually right after lunch, where foot traffic just disappears and you start wondering if your prices are wrong or your art is bad or you should've stayed home. It's not personal, and it happens at nearly every show to nearly every vendor. It usually picks back up by mid-afternoon. Bring something to do with your hands, restocking, sketching, tidying your display, so you're not just sitting there spiralling. People will pick things up and put them back down, a lot That's not rejection. That's how people shop. They touch, they compare, they walk to three other booths and come back forty minutes later to buy the print they were holding earlier. Don't read a customer's face like it's a verdict on your work. Most sales at a con aren't impulse buys made in five seconds, they're decisions made over the course of the whole day. You will forget something, plan for it anyway Tape, a phone charger, small bills for change, a spare pen because the first one always dies mid-signature. Make a list, pack from the list, and still expect to improvise once. The vendors near you have almost certainly forgotten the same things, so ask before you panic. A lot of alley veterans say the "emergency kit" you build after your first show is worth more than anything you bought before it. Your display needs to survive being bumped Convention aisles are tight, and people are carrying bags, other people's kids, and plushies the size of a toddler that block their view of your table corner. Anything on your table needs to be stable enough that a stray elbow doesn't send it flying. It's one reason a lot of vendors move away from flimsy tri-folds and wobbly wire grids toward something that actually locks together, like a panel kit such as Artist Booths' Core, which builds a steady vertical wall without needing a single tool. Breakdown is chaos, every time When the show wraps, everyone tries to leave at once, through the same one loading dock, while you're also folding your table and trying not to lose a print in the shuffle. Pack your car in reverse order of how you'll need it, so the last thing you loaded is the first thing you unload at home. Don't schedule anything for that evening. You'll be more tired than you expect, in a specific bone-deep way that only tabling produces. You'll want to do it again anyway Even after a rough first show, most people end up applying to the next one. Something about the whole ridiculous day, the good conversations, the stranger who lit up over your work, the vendor next to you who turned into a friend, outweighs the sore feet. Write down what went wrong while it's fresh. Future you will thank present you for not trying to remember it six months later. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.

You don't need to spend $2,000 to have a real first booth It's easy to look at an established vendor's table, the matching backdrop, the professional signage, the neat rows of framed prints, and assume that's the entry price for taking this seriously. It isn't. That setup is usually the result of several cons' worth of reinvested profit, not a first-event starting point. Going into debt to look like a five-year vendor on week one is how a lot of people burn out before they've even found out if this works for them. Work backwards from your actual con budget Before you spend anything on display gear, add up the costs that are fixed and non-negotiable for your first event: table/booth fee, travel, accommodation if it's not local, and your inventory (printing, packaging, business cards). Whatever's left after that is your real display budget, and for a lot of first-timers, it's smaller than they'd like. That's fine. A modest, tidy table beats an ambitious half-finished one every time. Where it's actually okay to spend nothing Table runners and cloth backdrops: check op shops and fabric remnant bins before buying new. A plain coloured sheet, ironed and clipped down, does the job. Signage: printed at home or at a copy shop is completely fine for a first con. Handwritten in neat lettering works too, plenty of established vendors still do this by choice. Business card holders: a small dish or even a clean box lid works until you can justify a proper stand. Where it's worth spending something, even a little A card reader. Cash-only tables lose sales, full stop. A basic tap-to-pay reader is one of the highest-return purchases you'll make. Print and packaging quality. A slightly more expensive print on good paper, properly bagged and boarded, sells better and returns less than a cheap print that curls or scuffs in transit. Some kind of vertical display. Flat-on-table setups get visually lost next to neighbours running any kind of backdrop. This doesn't need to be expensive, but it needs to exist. The vertical display question specifically This is usually the single biggest spend decision for a first booth, and also where people either wildly overspend on something custom-built or underspend on something flimsy that won't survive a second con. A basic modular panel kit sits in a reasonable middle ground: it packs flat, it's reusable indefinitely, and you're not paying for lumber and hardware every time your layout needs change. If your first table is a half table or you're working a tight footprint, something like the Core kit at $549 covers a genuinely complete low-wall setup without eating the rest of your budget. It's not the flashiest option in the lineup, but it's built the same way the bigger kits are, and it's enough panel real estate to hang a real grid wall behind a first table. A rough first-booth budget split Category Rough share of budget Notes Table/booth fee 20-30% Fixed, paid upfront, non-negotiable Inventory (print/product) 30-40% The thing you're actually there to sell, don't shortchange this Display and signage 15-25% Start modest, reinvest profit into upgrades later Payments/packaging/misc 10-15% Card reader fees, bags, tape, the unglamorous stuff Whatever you spend, keep the receipts and treat your first con as a data-gathering exercise as much as a sales one. What you learn about your own pricing, your inventory mix, and what your booth actually needed is worth more than anything you could buy upfront. Most of what separates a great table from an okay one is time and iteration, not budget. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.

The two ways this goes wrong Bring too little inventory and you sell out of your best items by 1pm on day one, then spend the rest of the con watching people walk away from an empty table. Bring too much and you're hauling three overstuffed bins back to your car at the end of the weekend, having paid to print stock that's now sitting in your closet indefinitely. Both are common first-con mistakes, and there's no single right number, but there is a way to estimate that beats guessing. Start from the con, not your inventory Before you print or stock anything, find out the con's expected attendance and, if you can, whether it's your first time at that specific event or a returning one. A 2,000-person local market and a 40,000-person convention need wildly different inventory volumes, and new-to-you events are always a gamble the first time regardless of size. A rough starting formula a lot of vendors use: estimate roughly 1-3% of attendees will stop at your table, and of those, expect maybe a third to actually buy something. It's a wide range on purpose, since foot traffic depends heavily on your table placement, how established you are, and how the con itself is trending that year. Treat it as a floor to plan around, not a promise. Tier your stock so nothing sells out completely Rather than guessing one number, think in categories: Hero items (your best-known or most-photographed pieces): bring the most stock of these, they'll move fastest and you don't want to run out on day one of a multi-day con. Steady sellers (reliable but not flashy): moderate stock, these fill out the table and catch browsers who didn't come for anything specific. New or experimental pieces: bring less. If they don't sell, you're not stuck with a huge unsold batch, and if they do sell out, that's useful data for your next print run. Print smart, not just more If you're doing print-on-demand or ordering from a printer with reasonable turnaround, you don't need every SKU maxed out before day one, especially for a multi-day con. Bring a strong opening stock and, if the printer and your schedule allow it, plan a reorder for anything that's clearly outperforming your estimate. For stickers, pins, and smaller items with longer shelf life and lower per-unit cost, err toward slightly more rather than less, since they don't go stale the way a trend-specific print might, and running a self-serve sticker bin dry mid-con is a visibly empty spot on your table that's easy to avoid. A simple sanity check before you leave home Question What it tells you Have I sold at a similar-sized event before? Use last time's actual sales as your baseline, adjusted for this venue Is this a returning con or a new one for me? New cons deserve more conservative estimates until you have data Can I display everything I'm bringing without it looking crammed? If not, you've probably overbought for your table size Do I have a plan if my top seller runs out? A reorder plan or at minimum a "sold out, prints coming soon" sign It's genuinely fine to get this wrong on your first few cons. Most vendors do. Keep a simple log of what sold and what didn't at each event, even just notes in your phone, and by your third or fourth table you'll have real numbers instead of a guess. That log is worth more than any formula, including this one. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.

The checklist nobody hands you at your first con You've got your art sorted. You've got your table booked. And then the night before your first convention, you're standing in your kitchen at 11pm realising you have no idea if you need to bring your own chair. This is normal. Everyone's first packing list is missing something, usually something obvious in hindsight. Here's the real list, the boring practical stuff that actually gets forgotten, not just the inspirational "bring your best self" version. Money and payments A float of small bills and coins, $150-200 is a reasonable starting point so you can make change for a $50 note on a $12 sale without panicking. A charged card reader plus its charging cable, and know your reader's fee structure before the weekend so you're not surprised by what actually lands in your account. A backup payment method in case your primary reader has connectivity issues. Con centre wifi and cell signal get overloaded fast with thousands of people in one building. A lockable cash box or at minimum a zippered pouch that stays on your body, not loose on the table. Display and table gear Your actual display structure, whatever that is for you, plus a mallet or whatever tool it needs to assemble (check this is packed, not just the panels). A tablecloth or runner long enough to reach the floor. Painter's tape and clear tape, for last-minute fixes to signage or packaging. Zip ties and binder clips, genuinely useful for more problems than you'd expect. Extension cord and power strip if your booth has outlet access. Inventory and presentation Bags and backing boards for prints, sized to fit your most common print size without you needing to trim anything on the fly. Business cards, more than you think, they go fast and they're cheap to reprint. Clear price signage for every product category. A printed or digital inventory count from before the con, so you can tell at the end of day one what actually sold versus what you think sold. You, the human running the table This is the category first-timers skip entirely, right up until they're miserable on day two. Comfortable shoes you've already broken in. Not new ones. You will be on your feet for eight-plus hours. Water bottle and snacks you can eat one-handed between customers. Layers. Convention centres run cold from AC or hot from crowd density, sometimes both in the same day. Painkillers, blister plasters, and hand sanitiser in a small bag under the table. A portable phone charger, since you'll be using your phone for payments, photos, and messaging a tablemate more than you'd expect. The stuff people specifically forget Item Why it gets forgotten Chair Some venues provide one, many don't, always confirm ahead of time Table number/badge confirmation Printed or saved offline, venue wifi can't always be relied on at load-in Trash bags Packaging waste piles up fast and there's rarely a bin near your table A dolly or cart Parking is often far from your actual table, you will regret carrying everything by hand Spare batteries For clip lights, card readers, anything battery powered on the table Pack the day before, not the morning of. Laying everything out gives you a real shot at noticing what's missing while you can still do something about it, instead of finding the gap at 8am when the shops are still closed. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.

Most rejected applications aren't rejected for the art This is the part nobody tells you before your first application. A lot of artist alley applications don't get turned down because the work isn't good enough. They get turned down because the application itself didn't show the reviewer what they needed to see, fast, in the thirty seconds they're spending on your submission before moving to the next one. Con organisers reviewing hundreds of applications aren't reading your artist statement closely. They're scanning images and answers looking for specific signals: can this person actually sell, will their table look presentable, do they understand what the event is. Here's what to actually put in front of them. Your portfolio images matter more than your bio Most applications ask for 3-6 images. Don't use this space to show range if range means inconsistency. A reviewer scanning fast wants to see a clear, recognisable style they can picture on a table. A few rules that hold up across most cons: Lead with your strongest, most "you" piece, not your most recent one if the two are different. Show actual product, not just illustration. If you sell prints, stickers, and pins, include at least one photo of finished physical product, not only digital art files. Organisers are evaluating a vendor, not just an artist. Skip fan art if the con explicitly restricts it (check their rules first) and if you include any, make sure it's clearly labelled as fan art in your application notes. Cut anything blurry, badly lit, or cropped weird. A phone photo of a print in good light beats a low-res screenshot every time. The written sections: be specific, not impressive When an application asks what you sell or what your table will look like, resist the urge to write something vague and grand. "I create whimsical explorations of nature and identity" tells a reviewer nothing useful. "Prints, stickers, and enamel pins featuring original fantasy creature designs, priced $5-25" tells them exactly what they're approving. If there's a field for booth setup or display plan, actually answer it in detail. Some cons use this to gauge how prepared you are, and a one-line answer next to someone else's detailed paragraph makes you look like an afterthought entry. Don't skip the boring logistics questions A lot of applicants rush through or half-answer the non-creative fields: table size needed, whether you're sharing a table, power requirements, load-in availability. These questions exist because organisers are literally building a floor plan, and an incomplete or vague answer here can get your application set aside even with great art, simply because they can't plan around you. Field What to actually put Table/booth size The exact size you need, based on your actual display plan, not a guess Tablemate/shared table Name them if confirmed; say "seeking a tablemate" if not, don't leave it blank Power needs Be honest, even if it's just "one outlet for phone charging and a lamp" Prior con experience List actual events, even small local markets, it shows you've done this before Social/shop links Working links only, checked before you submit The application-anxiety part A lot of first-time applicants sit on a finished application for weeks, second-guessing whether their work is "ready" for a particular con. Realistically, you often can't know how your work reads to a specific reviewer until you've applied and either gotten in or gotten useful feedback from being turned down. The honest move is to apply, face whatever the nerves throw at you, and adjust for next time rather than waiting for a feeling of readiness that might not show up on its own. Apply to a mix of tiers too, not just the biggest cons on your list. Smaller local markets and artist alleys are lower stakes, easier to get into, and a genuinely good place to test whether your setup, pricing, and pitch actually work before you're standing in front of a much bigger crowd. Curious what a Shapeshift kit actually looks like in person? Head to the Artist Booths homepage to see the full lineup and find the one that fits your table.