Artist Back Alley Resources Blog

You pack up Sunday night with three totes lighter than you arrived, which feels great, until you get home and realize one of those totes is still half full of the print run you were sure would sell out. Every vendor ends up with leftover stock eventually. What you do with it afterward says a lot about whether your next season is more profitable or just more cluttered. First, figure out why it didn't sell Before deciding what to do with unsold stock, it's worth a quick honest read on why it's still in the box: Wrong show for the design. A print that bombed at a general-admission comic con might do fine at a fandom-specific event. Don't write off the art, just the venue. Priced wrong. Sometimes it's genuinely too expensive for what it is, sometimes (less intuitively) it's priced so low people assume it's low quality. Buried at the table. If it was flat in a bin under six other prints instead of displayed at eye level, that's a display problem, not a demand problem. Just not that popular. Sometimes a piece you love just isn't what this audience wants, and that's fine, not every piece needs to be a bestseller. What to actually do with it 1. Bundle it Slow movers sell fine as a "mystery grab bag" or bundled with a fast seller ("buy this print, get a mini free"). Bundling reframes a $15 item that wasn't moving into a perceived $25 value pack, and it clears shelf space fast. 2. Discount it, but do it deliberately A dedicated "last chance" bin at end-of-season shows works because people expect and even look forward to clearance pricing. Don't discount at every show though, that trains regulars to wait you out instead of buying at full price when the piece is new. 3. Sell it online between shows Stock that underperforms at cons sometimes does fine to an online audience who found you through Instagram or TikTok rather than walking past a table. Different audience, different context, worth testing before you assume the piece is just dead. 4. Repurpose the print itself A print that won't sell as a standalone can become the backing for a bookmark, a postcard pack filler, or packaging insert. You already paid for the printing, get some use out of the paper. 5. Donate or gift it Genuinely dead stock, stuff that's been through four shows with zero interest, is sometimes better given away as a freebie-with-purchase or donated to a charity auction at a con. The goodwill and the tax deduction (where applicable, check your local rules) beat storing it for a fifth show. 6. Retire the design and reprint smaller next time Sometimes the answer isn't "do something with the current stock," it's "learn from it." If a design consistently underperforms, stop reordering it, and treat the current batch as a closeout rather than trying to force it to be a permanent table staple. What not to do Don't just box it up and forget it exists until next season. Unsold stock sitting in storage isn't neutral, it's tying up cash you spent, taking up physical space, and quietly degrading (corners bend, colors can fade under light, humidity warps paper). Deal with it within a month or two of the show it didn't sell at, while you still remember why. A quick decision guide Situation Best move Sold okay, just slower than hoped Bring to next show, no changes Sold poorly at one specific con Try a different, better-matched show first Sold poorly everywhere, still like the design Bundle or discount, keep smaller batches going forward Sold poorly everywhere, over it Clearance it out, retire the design, don't reprint Leftover inventory isn't a failure, it's data. The vendors who do best long-term aren't the ones who never have unsold stock, they're the ones who act on what the unsold stock is telling them instead of quietly restocking the same underperformer every season out of habit. 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.

Splitting a table sounds simple until the show's over and you're both staring at a pile of cash trying to remember whose sale was whose. Table-sharing is one of the best ways to get into pricier shows when you're not ready to cover a full table alone, but the friendship-ending potential is real if the money side isn't sorted before you even apply. Why people split tables in the first place A half table at a mid-size con might run $200, which is a lot easier to justify at $100 each than $200 solo, especially if neither of you is sure the show will sell well yet. Splitting also means you're not alone for 8 hours a day, someone can grab food or hit the bathroom while the other watches the table, and you get a second brain for pricing and crowd-reading decisions. The fair way to split the fee Even-split (50/50) works fine when you're using roughly equal space and both attending every day. It gets murkier fast when it's not equal, and there are a few common situations worth planning for before they happen: Unequal space: if one of you has twice the display real estate, split by space, not headcount. A 60/40 fee split for a 60/40 space split is fairer than insisting on even shares. One person attends fewer days: pro-rate by day. If it's a 3-day con and one of you can only make 2 days, that person pays roughly two-thirds of their half, not the full half. One of you brings the display, the other doesn't: this is worth a small discount to whoever's hauling and setting up the gear, even just $20 to $30 off their share, because setup and pack-down time and the wear on their equipment is a real cost the other person isn't carrying. Sales: separate registers beat splitting revenue The single biggest source of table-share conflict is trying to pool and split total sales. Don't do it, even between close friends. Keep separate cash boxes, separate card readers if you can swing it, and separate signage on pricing so customers know whose item they're buying. If a shared card reader is unavoidable, track every sale in a shared note or spreadsheet in real time, item, price, whose it was, the moment it happens, not from memory at 6pm. A simple pre-show agreement checklist Item to agree on Decide before the show Fee split ratio Yes, in writing or a shared note Space allocation Yes, ideally marked with tape on the table itself Sales tracking method Yes, separate registers or a live shared sheet Who handles setup/pack-down Yes, and whether that earns a fee discount What happens if one person cancels last minute Yes, decide the refund/cover terms upfront Displays are the other half of this Fair space allocation is hard to enforce if your display gear doesn't actually divide cleanly. Two people bringing two separate grid walls and hoping they fit together often eats more table space than it should, and one person's setup inevitably creeps into the other's half by hour three. If you're splitting regularly with the same person, it's worth building toward shared modular gear you both know the footprint of. A Shapeshift Base kit covers a full 180cm table on its own, so two vendors can agree on an exact panel split (say, 24 panels each) before the show and know precisely how much vertical space each person actually gets, instead of eyeballing it with tape on show morning. Splitting a table is genuinely one of the smartest moves for a newer vendor. Just treat the money and space agreement as seriously as the application itself, because that's the part that actually determines whether you'll want to split with this person again. 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.

A buyer picks up your biggest piece, the one you priced at $280, turns it over in their hands for a solid minute, and then asks "do you do payment plans?" You've got maybe ten seconds to answer before they either put it down or you say yes to something you haven't actually thought through. This comes up more than people expect once your prices climb past the impulse-buy range, and the honest answer is: it depends on the format, and two of the common formats carry real risk for you specifically. The three ways this usually shows up In-person layby: they pay a deposit at your table, you hold the piece, they pay the rest before or by the end of the show (or you mail it after final payment). Multi-show payment plans: they pay a portion now and the rest across your next two or three appearances, and you ship or hand over the piece once it's paid off. Third-party buy-now-pay-later apps: the customer pays through a service like Afterpay or Klarna at full price upfront to you, and the service carries the repayment risk, not you. Where the real risk sits In-person layby at a single show is genuinely low risk, because it resolves within the same weekend. Worst case, they don't come back for it and you've lost nothing but a bit of table space for two days. Multi-show payment plans are the one to think hardest about. You're now holding inventory (or your time, if it's a commission) against a promise that spans weeks or months, across events where you may not even see the same person again. If they stop paying after the first installment, you've got a half-paid piece and no easy way to collect the rest. This works best with people you already know from past shows, not first-time customers you just met. Third-party BNPL apps solve the collection risk because you get paid in full immediately and the platform chases the customer, not you. The tradeoff is a processing fee, usually higher than a standard card fee, and not every convention's payment setup supports it at a table (it depends heavily on your card reader and internet access on the floor). Quick comparison Option Risk to you Setup effort Good for Single-show layby Very low None, just hold the item Any buyer, any price point over ~$100 Multi-show plan Moderate to high Needs a written agreement Repeat customers you trust BNPL app (Afterpay/Klarna style) Low (platform absorbs it) Needs the right card reader/app Higher ticket items, one-off customers If you do offer a payment plan, protect yourself Get a deposit of at least 30 to 50% before anything leaves your hands or gets set aside. Write down the agreement, even briefly, on paper or a simple form: what's owed, by when, and what happens if it's not paid (the piece goes back on sale, no refund on the deposit). Keep a hard deadline, ideally tied to your next appearance at that same show or con series, not an open-ended "whenever." Never ship or hand over the final piece until the balance clears. This feels obvious until someone you like is standing right in front of you asking nicely. The honest bottom line Payment plans can genuinely win you sales you'd otherwise lose, especially on bigger original pieces or commissions where $280 upfront is a real stretch for someone but $70 over four visits isn't. But they're not free to offer, they cost you in risk and admin even when nothing goes wrong. If you're selling mostly prints and stickers under $50, you probably don't need this at all, save it for the pieces where the price itself is the barrier, not the format. 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.

Restocking feels like the boring admin task between the fun parts, the actual conventions. You sell out of a print, you reorder more, done. Except the reorder is rarely "done" that simply, and the real cost of keeping your table full between shows is a lot higher than most artists track, because it hides in a dozen small places instead of one big invoice. Print runs punish small batches Print costs almost never scale down cleanly. A run of 100 prints might cost you $1.20 each, but if you only need 25 to top up before your next show, the per-unit cost can jump to $2.50 or more once setup fees and minimums get spread across a smaller batch. Restocking little and often, which feels responsible because you're not sitting on excess inventory, is often the most expensive way to buy. The flip side is real too: over-ordering to hit a good price point ties up cash in prints that might not sell for months, and prints do degrade, corners bend, boxes get crushed in transit, humidity does what humidity does. Rough cost comparison Batch size Typical cost per print Risk 25 prints $2.00–$2.80 Low cash tied up, high per-unit cost 100 prints $1.00–$1.40 Better unit cost, some risk of overstock 250+ prints $0.60–$1.00 Best unit cost, real risk if the design underperforms Shipping timing is its own tax Rush shipping on a restock order that arrives two days before a show routinely costs 2 to 4 times standard shipping. It's an easy trap: you underestimate your sell-through at the last show, panic-order the week before the next one, and pay a premium for the privilege of your own bad timing. The fix isn't complicated, it's just discipline: order restocks the moment you're back from a show, not the week before the next one. The costs that don't show up on any invoice Your time. Packaging prints in sleeves, printing new price tags, updating your point-of-sale, sorting stock into bins, this is real hours, usually unpaid hours squeezed in after a day job. Storage. If you're renting extra space or your spare room is now 40% inventory, that's a cost even if no cash changes hands for it directly. Design refresh cycles. Restocking the same five designs forever leads to fatigue from regulars who've seen your table three times this year. Budgeting for one or two new pieces per restock cycle isn't optional marketing spend, it's part of the real cost of staying relevant. Damaged stock write-off. Something always gets bent, stained by a spilled drink at a show, or creased in transit. Budget 3 to 5% of stock as expected loss rather than being surprised by it every single time. A simple way to plan it Track sell-through per design after every show, not just total revenue. Reorder your top 3 to 5 sellers within a week of getting home, at the batch size that hits your best per-unit price without leaving more than two shows' worth sitting in a box. Let your bottom performers run out and don't automatically reorder them. A design that didn't move at the last two shows probably won't move at the next one either. Build the write-off percentage and your own packing time into what you consider the "real" cost per print, not just the invoice from the printer. None of this means restocking should scare you off doing more shows. It just means the number in your head shouldn't be "what the printer charged me," it should be everything above added together. Once you track it for a season, you'll know exactly which designs are actually worth keeping in rotation and which ones are quietly costing you storage space and packing time for a handful of sales a year. 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.

Someone stops at your table, points at a print, and asks "could you draw this as my OC instead?" You freeze for half a second because you have no idea what to charge, quote something that feels random, and spend the rest of the show wondering if you undercharged by half. Commission pricing at a table is genuinely one of the trickiest parts of tabling, because you're doing math in your head while also trying to be personable and not hold up the line behind them. Why table commissions are different from online ones Online, you have time. You can quote, wait for a deposit, negotiate over messages, and walk away from a bad fit. At a table, you've got maybe 90 seconds before the conversation needs to resolve one way or another, and there's a queue forming. That pressure is exactly why so many artists either underprice on the spot or panic and say "I'll message you a quote later," which loses the sale about half the time. A framework that actually works under pressure The fix is deciding your tiers before the show, not during it. Write them on a small sign or a card at your table so you're reading off a price, not inventing one. Commission type Suggested table price band Time to complete Simple badge/chibi, flat color $25–$40 On the spot or day-of pickup Bust/headshot, full render $50–$90 Take-home, 2–4 weeks Half body, full render $90–$150 Take-home, 3–6 weeks Full body, full render $150–$300+ Take-home, 4–8 weeks Extra character in same piece +50–70% of base price Same slot These ranges vary a lot by medium, style complexity, and your own backlog, so treat them as a starting shape, not gospel. The point isn't the exact number, it's having ANY fixed number ready so you're not doing mental math with a customer watching. On-the-spot vs take-home Decide ahead of time which of these you're even offering, because they need completely different logistics. On-the-spot works for badges, quick chibis, simple flat pieces you can knock out in 15–30 minutes between browsers. Keep the queue visible so people know what they're waiting for, and cap how many slots you take per day. Take-home commissions need a deposit, always. Fifty percent up front is standard, collected via a form with contact details, reference images, and a due date estimate. Never promise a firm delivery date at a loud table with three other things happening, give a range instead ("4 to 6 weeks"). Handling the awkward moments Some will happen no matter how prepared you are: "Can you do it cheaper?" Redirect to a smaller version of the same idea rather than discounting the one you quoted. "The full body's $180, but a bust of just them would be $70" gives them an out without you eating the loss. Someone wants a wildly complex piece in the on-the-spot slot. Be upfront that it needs to be a take-home instead. It's not a rejection, it's honesty about what fits in the time you have. A line forms and you're mid-sketch. Have a "next available slot" sign ready so people can browse and come back instead of standing there. The number that matters most Work out your hourly rate first, separate from anything else, and build every commission tier up from that number rather than copying someone else's price sheet. A price that looks "normal" compared to other tables but pays you $8 an hour after materials isn't actually a normal price, it's just a common mistake. Once you know your real hourly number, the tiers above become easy to fill in and defend, even under table pressure with a line forming behind the next person. 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 get accepted into a con, feel the little jolt of excitement, pay the table fee, and then a few weeks later realize the table fee was maybe a third of what the weekend actually cost you. This is the part nobody tells beginners, and it's the reason a lot of artists do a show that "sold fine" and still come home having lost money. The fee is the deposit, not the bill A $150 table fee at a regional con feels manageable on its own. Once you add everything around it, the real number is usually two to four times that. It's not that the fee is a scam, it's that a table fee only ever covers your square footage, and everything else is on you. What actually shows up on the real bill Cost Typical range (one weekend con) Easy to forget? Table/booth fee $100–$400 No, this is the obvious one Travel (fuel or flights) $0–$600 Sometimes, especially fuel Accommodation $0–$500 Rarely, but people underestimate nights needed Parking / venue extras $20–$100 Almost always forgotten Food for the weekend $40–$150 Often forgotten or underestimated Float / change for the till $100–$150 (tied up, not spent) Frequently forgotten as a "cost" Restocking prints/materials before the show $50–$300 Yes, this one sneaks up Card processing fees 1.5%–3% of sales Usually forgotten until tax time Wear and tear on display gear Hard to quantify, but real Almost never counted Why this matters more than it seems If you only budget the table fee, you'll price your break-even point wrong, and you won't know if a show was actually worth doing again. A con that costs $150 in fees but $650 all-in needs to clear $650 before you've made a cent, not $150. That's the number that should be sitting in your head when you're deciding whether to reapply next year. A rough rule of thumb Take your table fee and multiply it by three as a first-pass estimate for total weekend cost, then adjust up if you're flying or staying two-plus nights, and down if it's a local show you can drive to and back same day. It's not exact, but it stops you from the classic mistake of thinking a $200 table fee means $200 of risk. Budgeting it properly, step by step List every con you're considering for the next two quarters and note the table fee for each. Add travel and accommodation using real prices, not guesses. Book early enough that these aren't inflated. Set aside float separately. It's not spent money, but it needs to physically exist before the show, so budget for having it on hand. Estimate restocking cost based on your last show's sell-through, not a hopeful guess. Add 10% on top for the stuff you will forget. There's always something. The part that saves you money over time A decent chunk of "forgotten" costs are really just decay costs on your setup, foam board that's gone soft, a tablecloth that's stained, grid walls that don't fold flat anymore and eat trunk space. Gear that packs down small and travels well quietly saves you on both fuel (a smaller car works) and the mental cost of another 45 minutes wrestling with awkward panels at 7am. It's a small line item, but it's a real one, and it compounds over a full con season. Track the full number for two or three shows and you'll start to see which cons are actually worth your time versus which ones just feel busy. That's the whole point of budgeting the fee properly. It's not about spending less, it's about knowing the real number before you say yes. 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 around your third or fourth convention, you do the math on a slow afternoon and realize you're making about $4 an hour once you count table fees, materials, and the two days of setup and travel. And then you still can't bring yourself to bump your print price from $15 to $18. If that's you, you're not alone, and you're not being greedy by wanting to fix it. The guilt is almost never about the math Most artists can do the spreadsheet. You know your ink costs went up, you know the paper stock got more expensive, you know your time is worth something. The part that stalls people is emotional: what if regulars notice and feel like you're cashing in on them? What if someone says something at the table? What if sales just... stop? Here's what actually happens in practice: almost nobody notices a $2 to $3 increase on a print, and the ones who do rarely say anything unkind. A $15 print going to $18 is a rounding error to most buyers. The people who do comment are usually other artists, not customers, because artists are the ones tracking prices across the whole alley. Signs it's time, not just a feeling Your cost of goods has gone up (paper, ink, packaging, shipping on materials) and your prices haven't moved in over a year. You're selling out of your lowest-priced items every show and restocking them more than anything else, while your higher-priced work sits. You've added new skills, better printers, sturdier packaging, or nicer displays since you set your original prices. You're comparing yourself to artists with similar skill and following who charge noticeably more, and you can't name a real reason why you don't. Booth fees at your regular shows have climbed and your per-table sales target hasn't kept up. If two or three of those are true, you're not overreacting. You're behind. How to actually raise them You don't need an announcement post, a heartfelt caption, or an apology. Just change the price. Most buyers don't have your old price memorized, and the ones who do will forget within a show or two. A few practical ways to soften the transition if you want one: Raise new items at the new price and let old stock sell through at the old price. No awkward crossing-out, no re-pricing signage mid-show. Bundle instead of just raising the single-item price. "3 prints for $40" instead of "$15 each" resets the anchor without a naked price hike on any one item. Round to a number that feels stable. $15 to $18 reads as an increase. $15 to $20 reads as "that's just what prints cost here now." Weirdly, bigger jumps sometimes get less pushback than small awkward ones. Do it between shows, not mid-run. Changing a price on day two of a three-day con is the version that actually annoys people, because they compared notes with a friend from day one. What NOT to do Don't discount your way back down the first time a slow hour makes you nervous. One quiet hour on a Saturday afternoon is not a verdict on your new price, it's just a quiet hour, they happen at every price point. Also don't raise everything at once across your whole table. Pick your worst-margin items first, watch how the next show goes, then adjust the rest. The quiet math nobody says out loud A $3 increase across 40 prints sold in a weekend is $120 extra for doing nothing except changing a sign. That's real money for zero additional labor, and it compounds every show after. The guilt fades fast once you see the number written down on your own tracking sheet. If part of what's eating your margin is the table setup itself, that's worth a separate look too. A display that takes an hour to build every morning and needs constant restocking mid-day is its own hidden cost. Something like the Shapeshift Base kit sets up once in under 30 minutes and holds a full table's worth of stock at height, which is one less thing draining your energy before doors even open. But that's a separate fix. The prices are the first thing to sort out, and it costs you nothing but a sticky-back label gun and a bit of nerve. 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.

This collaboration is all about supporting new and emerging artists, which is exactly what the SMASH! Chibi event is for. SMASH! has a surprise for fans and artists this time: a trip down memory lane at the long-time beloved Rosehill Gardens venue, and a second taste of SMASH! in 2025. We believe setting up your first, or third, artist alley table should be fun and easy, not a puzzle. That's why we build lightweight, portable, modular booth kits that help you make your stand (literally) and help your work stand out. This partnership is our way of helping you smash your convention goals in comfort. What we're bringing to the table, literally We offer custom coloured table setups with foldable hooks for fast, self-serve setups that look the part next to your art and help you earn more. Here's what's included with this collab: Free custom hi-vis and artist planner: when you pick up your order, you'll get a limited edition SMASH x Artist Booths branded hi-vis vest and a booth planner to help you get organised. Summer freebies: November's warming up, so cool off with a SMASH x Artist Booths fan. A discount on us: enjoy 15% off our booth setup kits to help you build the display you actually want. Search for Artist Booths in your SMASH emails for the link, or message us with your SMASH acceptance screenshot to claim it. Free pickup at SMASH: skip the shipping fees and pick up all your booth gear for free at the event. Purchase before 19 Nov 2025 for the discount and free pickup at SMASH.It also combines with welcome discounts and 5% auto cashback, so that's up to 25% off your first order. Together with SMASH, we can't wait to see how you make your space uniquely yours. We're here to back up new and seasoned artists alike and we're always happy to help however we can. We can't wait to see your displays. More on the SMASH! Chibi event If you're interested in attending the SMASH! Chibi event, you can find out more here. There will be festivities to get your Christmas shopping started ahead of schedule, with gifted local artists and talented performers on the floor. With a more affordable ticket and shorter waits to see and take part in the cosplay opportunities, you'll have more time to explore, connect, and enjoy the day. Say hello to a rainbow of new colours You asked, and we listened. We're thrilled to announce 17 new colours for our booth panels, just in time for the spring cons. Now you can customise your setup to match your art and your brand. Want to see these colours in action? Check out the examples on our Instagram, or take a look below. Fully Black Ivory White Tan Brown Mustard Yellow Peachy Orange Salmon Pink Cherry Blossom Pink Indigo Purple Blue Sky Cobalt Blue Avocado Green Mint Green Emerald Green Pine Green New: Lemon Yellow New: Lilac Purple New: Snow White We're genuinely thrilled to be collaborating with SMASH to help power the next wave of Aussie artists at Chibi. This is your moment to let your creativity take centre stage. Use your Artist Booths setup to spotlight your brand, show off your personality, and stand out in the artist alley crowd. Together with SMASH, we can't wait to see how you make your space uniquely yours. We're here to back up new and seasoned artists alike, and we're always happy to help however we can. Can't wait to see your displays. 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 most new vendors how their last show went and you'll get a vibe, not a number. "Pretty good" or "kind of slow" or "better than the last one." That's not tracking, that's just memory, and memory is bad at this. If you want to actually get better show over show, you need real numbers, and they're easier to collect than you think. The bare minimum worth tracking You don't need a full accounting system on day one. Start with a simple spreadsheet or even a notes app table with these columns: Event name and date Table fee and travel cost Total revenue, split by cash and card if you can What sold, roughly, by category (prints, stickers, originals, whatever your mix is) Anything unusual (weather, low attendance, a nearby event competing for the same crowd) That's genuinely enough to start seeing patterns after three or four shows. You don't need per-SKU tracking until you've got a real catalog and a reason to dig that deep. Revenue alone tells you almost nothing A $2,000 show sounds great until you realize the table fee, flight, and hotel ate $1,400 of it. Net profit, not gross revenue, is the number that actually tells you whether a show was worth doing. This is exactly the ranking exercise a lot of experienced alley vendors do openly online, walking through show after show and separating the ones that genuinely make money from the ones that are fun but barely break even. Do the same math for your own calendar. A simple per-show scorecard Metric Show A Show B Revenue $1,800 $2,100 Table + travel cost $400 $900 Net profit $1,400 $1,200 Profit per hour worked $175 $120 Show B made more revenue but Show A was actually the better use of your weekend. You'd never know that from memory alone. Track what sold, not just how much Knowing your total is useful. Knowing that your fanart prints outsold your original designs three to one is the kind of detail that changes what you print for the next show. A lot of artists discover, once they actually track it, that a piece they personally love barely moves, while something they consider a minor side project quietly outsells everything else. That's only visible in the data, not in how the day felt. Note the context, not just the numbers A slow show during a heatwave with half the expected attendance tells you something different than a slow show on a normal day with a full crowd. Jot down anything unusual right after the event while it's fresh, because six months later you won't remember that the venue's AC broke or that a competing event two blocks away split the foot traffic. Review it, don't just collect it A spreadsheet nobody looks at is just a chore. Set a habit, maybe once a quarter, of actually reading back through your log and asking what it's telling you. Which shows are consistently worth it. Which products keep underperforming no matter how many times you bring them. Whether your average sale size has been creeping up or down. The tracking only pays off if you use it to make an actual decision, like dropping a con from next year's list or discontinuing a print that's never sold. It gets easier, not harder The first log feels like extra homework on top of an already exhausting weekend. By your fifth or sixth show it's a five-minute habit, and it's the difference between guessing your way through a full year of events and actually knowing which ones deserve your time and money. 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.

"5 stickers for $10" is probably the most copied deal in artist alley, and it's copied for a reason: it works. But a lot of vendors set bundle prices by feel, discover months later they were basically giving product away, and can't figure out why a busy show still left them with thin margins. Work out your bundle math before the show, not at the table Take your real per-unit cost (materials, a share of your table fee, your time) and check what a bundle price actually nets you per item. "5 for $10" sounds catchy, but if your stickers cost $1.20 each to make and your booth fee eats another $0.80 per expected unit, your real margin is a lot thinner than the headline price suggests. Run the numbers before you commit to a round, catchy price, because round numbers are exactly what tempt people into skipping the math. Bundle math example Single item Bundle (5 for $10) Price per unit $3.00 $2.00 Cost per unit $1.20 $1.20 Margin per unit $1.80 $0.80 That bundle still turns a profit, just a much smaller one per item. Whether that trade is worth it depends on whether the bundle actually moves more total units than you'd sell at full price, which brings up the real question behind bundling. Bundles should sell things that move slowly on their own The best use of a bundle isn't discounting your best sellers, it's giving your slower stock a reason to leave the table. If one print always outsells the rest, it doesn't need help. Pair it with two designs that don't move as fast, and the bundle does double duty: it clears inventory and it still nets you a full-price sale on the popular piece. Set a floor and don't go under it during a slow hour Slow hours make discounting tempting. You've got dead time, someone's hovering, and "just take $5 off" feels easy in the moment. Decide your absolute floor price before the show and hold it, even at hour seven when you're tired and the aisle's empty. A single desperate discount rarely turns a dead hour around, and it trains anyone watching (including regulars) that your prices are negotiable if they just wait you out. Bundling across product types works too You don't have to bundle only within one product category. A print plus a sticker plus a small keychain at a combined price can feel like a more generous deal than three of the same item, while actually protecting your margin better, because you're not discounting your highest-margin item as deeply. Mixed bundles also help new customers sample more of your catalog in one purchase, which matters if you're trying to build repeat buyers. For kit and display costs, the same logic applies This isn't just about product pricing. If you're weighing a booth upgrade, run the same kind of math you'd run on a sticker bundle: what does it cost, and what does it actually get you back. A tier like Shapeshift Base (46 panels, from $699) covers a standard 6ft table with room to raise key pieces above eye level, and that's worth comparing against what a flat table setup is actually costing you in missed foot traffic, the same way you'd compare a bundle price against selling items individually. Track which bundles actually work Not every bundle idea pays off. Some sit there ignored while your individually-priced items keep selling fine on their own. Note which bundles moved and which didn't after each show, the same way you'd track individual item sales. A bundle that doesn't move isn't cheaper marketing, it's just a worse price on stuff nobody wanted differently packaged. The short version Bundles are a tool for moving specific inventory, not a reflex discount you apply because it feels generous. Do the math ahead of time, use them on slower stock, hold your floor, and check afterward whether they actually worked. 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.

Getting paid sounds like the easy part of selling art. Then your first customer hands you a $50 note for a $12 sticker and you realize you brought exactly zero small bills. Payments are one of those things that seem trivial until they go wrong in front of a line of people. Build a real float, not a guess A float is the cash you start the day with so you can make change. A lot of vendors land somewhere around $100 to $150 in small bills and coins, but the right number depends on your price points. If most of your stock is $5 to $20, you want plenty of $5s and $10s, not a stack of $20s that can't make change for anything. Count it before the show, not after you've already opened. And keep it somewhere boring and secure, a zippered pouch clipped to the table, not loose in a tote bag where it can spill or walk off during a busy rush. A simple float breakdown Denomination Suggested count $5 notes 10 $10 notes 6 $1/2 coins 20 Total float ~$120 Adjust this to your actual prices. If everything you sell is under $10, you need way more small coins than a table full of $40 originals does. Card readers are not optional anymore A meaningful share of buyers, especially younger ones, don't carry cash at all. If your only option is cash, you're turning away sales you'll never even see, because the person just keeps walking instead of asking if you take card. Get a reader that pairs with your phone, test it before the show (not in the parking lot five minutes before doors open), and make sure your phone's charged with a backup battery on hand. Convention wifi is unreliable, so a reader that works over mobile data, not just wifi, saves you from dead time at the worst possible moment. Know your fees before you set your prices Card processing takes a small cut of every transaction. It's usually a flat percentage plus sometimes a few cents per tap. It's not worth avoiding cards over, but it is worth knowing the number so it's already baked into your pricing rather than a surprise when you reconcile at the end of the weekend. What actually causes chaos at the table Not having a fast way to look up a price when a customer asks about something without a visible tag. Two people working the table both trying to handle payment for the same customer at once. A phone that dies mid-transaction because nobody charged it overnight. Losing track of whether a sale was cash or card when you're trying to reconcile totals later. Most of these are solved by simple habits: one designated payment handler if you're working with a partner, a charged battery pack taped to the underside of the table, and a habit of jotting down (even just tally marks) cash sales as you go so you're not guessing at the end of the day. Reconcile at the end of every day, not the end of the show If it's a multi-day convention, count your float and your takings each night, not just once at the very end. Catching a discrepancy on day one gives you a chance to figure out what happened while it's fresh. Waiting until day three to add it all up means you're troubleshooting three days of memory at once, which never goes well. The point of all this None of this is complicated, it's just easy to skip when you're focused on the art and the display. But a smooth payment process is part of what makes a table feel professional to a customer standing there mid-purchase. Fumbling for change or wrestling with a frozen card reader is a small thing, but it's the last thing they experience before walking away with your work, and it's worth getting right. 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 probably heard this one from a well-meaning friend or a panel at a con: "just price it at what feels right to you." It sounds supportive. It's also close to useless, and it quietly sets a lot of new vendors up to either underprice themselves for years or panic-price something the morning of a show with no logic behind the number at all. Feelings don't know your costs Your gut has no idea what your ink cartridge cost, how many hours you spent on a design, or what your table fee was this weekend. It just knows what feels comfortable to say out loud to a stranger, and for most new artists that instinct skews low, because asking for money still feels a little uncomfortable. "What feels right" usually means "what won't make me cringe when I say it," which is a confidence question, not a business question. It makes every show inconsistent If your prices come from a feeling in the moment, they'll drift. You'll price the same print at $12 at one show and $18 at the next because your mood, your nerves, or how the morning went were different, not because anything about the actual product changed. Customers who follow you across multiple events notice this, and it erodes trust faster than you'd think. Consistent pricing is part of looking like a professional operation instead of a hobby table. It can't survive a bad day "Feels right" pricing tends to collapse under pressure. Slow morning, nobody's buying, and suddenly "what feels right" starts drifting downward, discount by discount, until you're barely covering materials by 3pm. A pricing method built on math holds its shape even when you're tired, anxious, or three hours into a dead show. That's exactly when you need it to hold. What to use instead Add up your actual per-unit cost: materials, packaging, a share of your table fee, and a rough rate for your time. Check what comparable work sells for at similar events, so you know the range you're working inside. Set the number before the show, on a calm day at home, not during a slow hour when doubt creeps in. Write it down somewhere (a price sheet, a spreadsheet) so it's not something you're recalculating from scratch every single event. "Charge what you're worth" has the same problem This phrase gets thrown around as if it's more useful than "feels right," but it's really the same advice in a costume. Worth isn't a number you can look up. Cost is. Market rate is. Your actual profit margin is. Chase those instead, and "worth" takes care of itself as a byproduct, not as the starting point. Where feeling does still matter None of this means ignore your gut completely. If a number feels wildly wrong for the piece, that instinct is worth listening to, sometimes it's telling you the math missed something, like undervaluing the time a complex piece actually took. Use feeling as a sanity check on the math, not as the whole pricing system. The math sets the number, the gut check catches obvious mistakes. Give yourself permission to be boring about it Pricing doesn't need to be an emotional decision every time you sit down to plan a show. The vendors who look calm and confident behind their table aren't more naturally fearless, they've usually just done the arithmetic ahead of time so there's nothing left to second-guess in the moment. Boring, repeatable pricing frees up your energy for the part that actually needs it: talking to people and selling the 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.

Pricing is the thing new vendors agonize over the most and get the least straight advice about. "Charge what you're worth" doesn't tell you a single useful number. Here's an actual method, with real math, instead of a vibe. Start with your hard costs Before you think about profit, add up what a piece actually costs you to produce and sell. For a print, that's paper, ink, any sleeve or backing board, and a share of what your printer cost to buy. For an original, factor in materials plus a rough hourly rate for your time, even if that feels uncomfortable at first. Then add your cost of being at the table at all: booth fee divided by expected units sold, travel, accommodation if it's a multi-day con out of town, and packaging. New vendors almost always forget to fold table fees into individual item prices, and then wonder why a "profitable" day barely covered the drive. A simple print example Cost item Amount Paper + ink per print $1.20 Sleeve + backing board $0.40 Share of table fee (est. 150 prints sold) $1.00 Your time (design, printing, packing) $2.00 Total cost $4.60 If you sell that print for $15, you're clearing roughly $10.40 per unit before tax. That's a real margin you can look at and decide if it's enough, instead of guessing. Then check the room, don't copy it blindly Walk the floor before your own show, or check photos from past cons if you can't get there early. See what similar-quality prints go for nearby. This isn't about racing to the bottom on price, it's about knowing what a customer already expects to pay before they hit your table, so you're not shocking them or underselling yourself relative to your neighbors. Round to numbers people can actually pay with $12 is easier for someone to hand you in cash than $11.50. Pricing in clean numbers, or numbers that bundle nicely (two for $20 instead of $11 each), speeds up your line and reduces fumbling for change. This matters more than it sounds like it should when you've got a queue building up. Originals need a different formula than prints Prints scale, you can make a hundred copies of the same cost basis. Originals don't. A common approach for one-of-a-kind pieces is materials cost, plus an hourly rate for the actual working time, plus a multiplier for the fact that it's unique and can't be replaced once it sells. There's no single right multiplier. What matters is that you're not pricing an original the same casual way you'd price a $5 sticker, because the math underneath it is completely different. Don't underprice out of fear A lot of new vendors price low because they're scared nobody will buy at a "real" price. The problem is underpricing doesn't just cost you money this show, it trains your regular customers to expect rock-bottom prices forever, and it's genuinely hard to raise prices later without pushback from people who got used to the old ones. It's easier to start at a sustainable number than to claw your way up from too low. Revisit your prices after every few shows Pricing isn't a one-time decision. If something sells out every single time within the first hour, it's priced too low for the demand. If something sits untouched at three different shows, that's real data too, not necessarily about price, but worth investigating. Keep a simple running list of what sold at what price so you're adjusting off real numbers instead of a hunch six months old. The bottom line Pricing well is just arithmetic plus a bit of market awareness. Add up your real costs, check what the room supports, round to clean numbers, and revisit it regularly. It's not a personality test about your self-worth as an artist, it's a spreadsheet problem, and spreadsheet problems are solvable. 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.

Conventions are a lot. Three days on your feet, the same chair, the same conversation on repeat, and somewhere in there you're supposed to keep your prices straight and your energy up. If you've ever gotten home from a con weekend and slept for twelve hours straight, you already know the toll it takes. Looking after yourself during a show matters as much as your display does, and it's a lot less complicated than it sounds. Move, even in small doses Hours of sitting behind a table leaves most people stiff by lunchtime, and drawing commissions on top of that turns your hands and shoulders into knots by day two. Take a minute every hour or so to roll your shoulders, stretch your wrists and fingers, and stand up straight. If someone can cover your table for five minutes, take a short walk down the aisle. It's not just about avoiding a sore back, moving around actually helps you stay sharp for the next customer who stops by. Actually drink water This sounds obvious and it's still the thing most vendors forget. You get busy with a commission or a good conversation and suddenly it's 3pm and you haven't had anything but con-hall coffee. Bring a real bottle, not a tiny one, and refill it whenever you pass a water station. Dehydration sneaks up as a headache or that flat, foggy feeling by the afternoon, and it's a lot easier to prevent than to fix mid-show. Take the break, even when the table's busy The instinct when things are going well is to power through without stopping, because what if you miss a sale. But nobody does eight hours straight without their work suffering for it, whether that's snapping at a customer by accident or just running out of steam by 4pm. If you've got a table partner, stagger your breaks so one of you is always there. If you're solo, ask a neighboring vendor to keep an eye on your table for five minutes, most will happily return the favor. A few break habits that actually help Eat a real meal, not just snacks grabbed between customers. Low blood sugar makes everything feel harder than it is. Step outside if you can, even for two minutes. Convention halls are loud and fluorescent-lit, and a bit of daylight resets your head. Use the bathroom before you think you need to. Waiting until you're desperate is its own kind of stress. Dealing with con nerves Feeling anxious before a show is normal, whether you're worried about sales, a big crowd, or just being "on" for a whole weekend. The advice that actually helps: focus on what's in your control (your setup, your prices, your pitch) and let go of the rest, because attendance numbers and how busy the floor is aren't up to you. A written checklist the night before takes a surprising amount of pressure off, since you're not trying to hold the whole weekend in your head at 6am. Small wins count. A stranger complimenting your art, a commission you're proud of, a good conversation with the vendor next to you, these add up over a long day even on a slow sales day. If you're feeling overwhelmed, say something to a nearby vendor. Most artists have been exactly where you are and are quick to offer a laugh or a hand. Some days are just harder, and that's fine Not every show day feels good, and that's not a sign you're doing something wrong. If you need five minutes with headphones in and your favorite playlist blocking out the noise, take it. Your energy isn't infinite across a three-day con, and pacing yourself is part of getting good at this, not a failure to push through. The bottom line Taking care of yourself at a con isn't an indulgence squeezed in around the real work. It's what lets you show up at your table with something left to give, on day one and on day three. Stretch, drink water, actually take your breaks, and give yourself permission to have an off hour. The rest tends to follow. 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.

Someone's standing at your table. They picked up a print, or they're just looking at your banner a beat too long. This is the moment a lot of new vendors freeze up, say something weird, and watch the person drift off. Here's how to not do that. The line that kills it: "let me know if you need anything!" It's not wrong, exactly. It's just nothing. It gives the browser nothing to respond to, so they usually just nod and keep looking, and the silence gets a little awkward for both of you. You want something that invites an actual answer, even a one-word one. Try instead: "Hey, welcome! That one's from my newest series, if you want the full story on it." "That print's a fan favorite, it's actually based on a comic I'm working on." "Take your time, happy to answer anything about prices or sizes." None of these need a big performance. They just give the person a door to walk through if they want to talk, and permission to keep browsing quietly if they don't. Read the body language before you open your mouth Some people want to chat. Some people want to look at your stuff in peace and will bolt the second you make eye contact. You'll learn to tell the difference fast, usually within a con or two. Head down, moving quickly along the table, not making eye contact? Let them browse. Lingering on one piece, picking it up, looking between it and your prices? That's your opening. A lot of alley veterans say the biggest tell is what people do with their hands. Someone who picks something up and turns it over is genuinely considering it. Someone who just points at things from a foot away is still deciding if they even want to engage. What not to say A few things that reliably shut a conversation down instead of opening one: "So what do you do?" as your opener, before they've even looked at your work. It puts the pressure on them to perform small talk before they've decided if they like anything. Apologizing for your prices unprompted ("sorry, I know it's expensive, but..."). You just told them not to buy it. Following someone step by step along the table narrating every piece. Let them look. Answer questions when they come up. Going quiet and staring at your phone the second someone approaches. It happens to all of us on hour six of a long day, but it reads as "don't talk to me" even when you don't mean it that way. When they ask "how much for this one?" Just answer the number. Don't hedge, don't over-explain, don't immediately offer a discount before they've even reacted to the price. If they want to negotiate a bundle, they'll usually ask, or you can offer once you see them eyeing multiple pieces: "if you grab two prints I can do both for $X." The compliment trap "I love this, I can't afford it right now but I'll be back" is one of the most common things you'll hear, and it's tempting to feel like it's a brush-off. Sometimes it is. A lot of the time it's genuinely true, they're budgeting across a whole convention floor and doing math in their head. Say thanks, mean it, and let them go without chasing the sale. Some of them really do come back on day two. Small talk that actually works The best conversations at your table usually aren't about your art at all, at least not at first. Commenting on their cosplay, asking if they've found anything good on the floor, joking about how long the con food line is, these are all low-stakes ways to make the interaction feel human instead of transactional. People buy from vendors they liked talking to, even for thirty seconds. If you're working a booth with a friend or partner, agree ahead of time on who greets people so you're not both talking over each other, and give each other space to step back when one of you needs a breather. Tabling is a full-body performance and nobody's "on" for eight straight hours without a dip. The follow-through Whatever you say when someone stops, the goal is the same: make it easy for them to either keep browsing or start a real conversation, without pressure either way. You're not selling in that first ten seconds, you're just being a person they don't feel weird talking to. 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.