So while I was in Utah last week, or the week before a friend emailed me a link to this story that ran in the Salt Lake Tribune.
Writer Linda Fantin reports on Utah retailers (and the consumers in general) overall lack of enthusiasm for Martha's line, but goes on to write:
"Scrapbooking already has its divas—Lisa Bearnson, Becky Higgins, Shelli Gardner, Cathy Zielske—women who made a mint off scrapbooking and became celebrities in the process, not the other way around. They inspire us not because of some cult of personality, but because they are innovative designers and ordinary people. We relate to them. Through their hall-of-fame scrapbook pages, we've seen their kids go to the zoo, graduate from preschool and look pensively while their mothers recount five favorite things about being 5."
I was actually flattered by it, to be grouped with Lisa and Becky, mostly because they really are industry trailblazers. Putting the whole celebrity thing aside for a moment, the fact that where no scrapbook magazine existed, Lisa put pretty much everything she had out on the line to start one up, along with co-founder Don Lambson. Think about it: would you risk everything you had on an idea? I love that. Personally? I'm not a risk taker. Nor did I marry one. I really admire the whole maverick mentality. And if you do the math, I have a job because Lisa did just that. Thanks, Lisa!
And then Becky…well, she's an icon and her contributions speak for themselves, and continue to do so. The entire sketches thing is brilliant. I was paging through her new Sketches Book last night thinking: what a great friggin' resource for scrapbookers. Seriously. She stays true to her timeless style, and on top of it, she's one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. Genuinely.
Me? I just make pages with very few things on them and tell good stories. (The key here is that I believe they are good stories, and when I revisit them, they stand up.) For me, scrapbooking is about pleasing yourself first and foremost, and defining that pleasure keeps you coming back for more. Just like an ordinary addict. And I SO roll that way.
The only thing I was curious about when I read the above passage was where the hell is my mint?
Any ideas would be greatly appreciated. If I somehow missed it along the way, I could really use it about now. My 17-year-old Honda Civic probably won't make it through another Minnesota winter.