The Seamier Side of Sewing for Survival: Before you begin

I'm not here to teach you how to sew or how to sew better. I’m guessing you know how to sew, that you probably sew very well, and have been sewing for years. People probably stop you on the street to ask you where you got your outfit. (“I made it myself,” you say modestly.) Visitors to your home probably marvel at your decorating skill. (“Where did you get those fabulous pillows!”) Your friends and family have probably been telling you that you could make money with your design talent and sewing skills. (“You’re so creative!” they cry in envious awe.) I’m guessing you wouldn't mind making some money doing something you enjoy, and you just don’t quite know where to start. Which is why you bothered to visit this website.

Read on for my “advice” on:

How to identify the entrepreneurial personality
What to call yourself
What to make
Where to locate your business
What to do with family
How to write a mission statement
How to choose a business form
How to write a business plan
What insurance you need
How to work with professionals

Your entrepreneurial personality

First, let me ask you this: Do you love to sew?

This is the single most important question, and it’s critical that you answer it honestly. The answer to this question may be the one that decides up front, before you invest any of your precious time and hard-earned resources, if sewing for a living is right for you. Tell the truth: Do you really love to sew?

No, I mean, do you really truly absolutely love to sew? Because unless you hire production seamstresses, and I’ll get into that later on, you will be spending much of your time sewing. More than anything else you do, more than sketching cool designs, or shopping for luscious fabrics, or making patterns, or cutting, or fitting the garment to the customer, you will be sewing. A lot. Can you picture yourself sitting at the machine for many hours on end, day after day, sewing, let’s say, 10 off the shoulder bridesmaids dresses from puce polyester georgette? Or altering the waistlines of the entire wardrobe of a proud moviestar wannabe who has lost 30 lbs, and will most likely gain it all back in six months?

Before you commit yourself to a life of sewing, be very clear about your likes and dislikes. If you think you can just do the fun stuff like sketching, shopping, and taking piles of checks to the bank, think again. Someone has to do the work. It doesn’t have to be you, but it will most likely be you in the beginning, so learn to love that old Singer of yours because you and it will be bosom buddies if you start sewing for a living.

I started out sewing pants for $15, and as word spread, I gradually got busier and busier, and more and more dependent on the income, until it got to the point where I couldn’t afford to say no. I sold my soul, and I didn’t get much for it, to be honest, so, that’s why I say, be clear. Because when your doe-eyed customer looks at you and says, “Golly, I can’t decide if I want contrasting satin piping in every seam, or maybe a hundred rows of ¼” quilting with different colored threads in each row, or ummm, maybe the whole bodice should be covered in rickrack…? Or should I just leave it plain?” and you say, “Oh, plain, definitely leave it plain,” for no other reason than you feel like she has just stuck a straw into your soul and is merrily sucking you dry, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

If you are like me, you learned to sew in 4-H from a friend's creepy mother when you were nine years old. You bought Butterick and McCalls patterns and butchered them in a courageous bid to design your own clothes. You ruined yards of cheap gingham and poplin before you graduated to velour, which you vowed never to sew on again after you set fire to the wadded up mess. When you could leave home, you headed for Los Angeles, garment capital of the world, where you enrolled in the Fashion Institute design program and dropped out after one year because they wouldn't give you a grant for the second year.

OK, maybe you aren't like me. Maybe you learned to sew from your grandmother, or maybe you actually did finish design school. Good on you. If you want more training, you have some options. There are usually programs for sewing, patternmaking, and draping at local community colleges. If you are a big spender or debtor, lots of private for-profit design schools would be thrilled to take your money (or signature on a loan form) in exchange for a promise of a glamorous career in the fashion industry. Maybe you can actually find an expert seamstress or tailor to apprentice with. I'm going to assume you have all the training you need, and you know where to get more if you want it.

Personality tests

The Web is rife with personality tests to help you determine if you have what it takes to succeed in business. You can find out if you have that good old entrepreneurial can-do spirit, that special je ne sais quoi that will allow you to leap out of bed every day with a glad shout: “Oh joy! Today I get to sew!” That unique quality that will draw people to you, encourage them to hire you, and persuade them to hand you wads of cash. That thing, whatever it's called. Do you have it?

Don't worry, I didn't either, and I was wildly in demand. Don't bother with those online personality tests. They just label us and box us in. I took one last week, out of curiosity. The result: “You're no natural.” Ouch. So many of the questions were designed to separate introverts from extroverts. (I'm a devoutly rabid introvert.) You don't have to be an extreme extrovert to succeed, although certain types of marketing techniques will be easier for you if you are an extrovert. Check out a great book by Christy Strauch at Small Business Warrior to discover the best marketing methods for your personality. And it's probably good if you don't totally hate people. Other than that, don't worry about it.

Personal qualities and skills you must have to start your sewing business

Good eyesight
Good eye-hand coordination
The ability to see detail and the overall big picture
Sketching skills
The ability to visualize how fabric will look on the body
Patternmaking skills
Cutting and sewing skills
Active listening skills
Customer service/communication skills
Organizational skills
The ability to manage your time
The willingness to work hard

Optional

A little knowledge of recordkeeping
An extroverted personality

What to call yourself

Are you a dressmaker? A tailor? A fashion designer? A seamstress? A custom-clothing designer? An artist? Each one has a set of connotations that may or may not appeal to you.

Dressmaker

What’s a dressmaker, anyway? Someone who only makes dresses? Or is it permissible to make the occasional pantsuit? Do you only sew for women? What about doing alterations for your Uncle Rodney? “Dressmaker” is a somewhat archaic term that conjures up in my mind the image of a dimly lit loft full of Ukrainian women in headscarves huddled over hand needles, toiling away at beaded silk gowns for ladies of means. Sounds like something from a 1940s B movie, but actually, there really are amazingly skilled women (and men) in many parts of the world who create exquisite outfits for those who can afford it. Many of these artisans work for the famous fashion designers that show on the runways of New York, Paris, and Milan, whose creations spice the pages of “W”, “Vogue,” and “Elle.” They apprentice when they are young, become experts at their craft, and work until their eyes give out. Some of them come to America, and you can find them working in the shops of designers in L.A. I met one once. Her work was incredible. She examined a sample of my leather sewing, of which I was smugly proud, and very graciously declined to work for me. She knew without any false modesty that her skills were far out of my league. My clients wouldn’t be able to afford her, plain and simple, and therefore, neither could I.

Tailor

Maybe you have developed the art of tailoring, something I always aspired to and fell well short of. A tailor creates highly constructed clothes for both women and men that consist of lots of layers you never see, made out of bizarre things like horsehair sandwiched between the outer layer and the inner lining with a multitude of magically invisible basting stitches. A steam iron usually plays a part, in conjunction with presscloths, hams, and special chants. The whole process takes hours of concentrated focus and the end result is, when a professional does it, a garment with a delicious hang, meticulous workmanship, a long life, and a high price tag. It is truly an art form in the hands of a professional. If you want to make clothes for mostly men, and don’t mind spending hours on the same garment, paying attention to detail the way a chimp grooms her mate, then tailoring might be the right job title for you.

Fashion Designer

This is the Grand Poobah title of the garment making industry. For me it was what I moved to L.A. for, it was the pinnacle of glamorous achievement and success, it was the gold medal and the brownie button all rolled into one magnificent vision. I think if you want to get technical, a fashion designer is one who designs a line of clothing, shows it in some way, like in a fashion show or catalog, takes orders from stores or individuals, and then fills the orders. In the world of custom-order clothing, I would say a fashion designer is one step short of demi-god, the one who ordains what the customer is going to order.

Let me say that again in case you missed it. The fashion designer tells the client what she is going to order. If Madame Mother of the Bride comes in waving a photo of the latest JC Penney in cotton candy pink that she has torn from a dental office magazine, the fashion designer gently removes the photo from her sweaty hand, wads it up, and persuades her that she would look much more elegant in, say, an off the shoulder fuschia silk drop-waisted sheath with a trailing flounce of special order chantilly lace. A real fashion designer could do that. Unfortunately for me, I never could conjure the conviction required to convince the client that pink wasn’t her color. I opted for the easy way out, which means I wasn’t a real fashion designer, I was really a seamstress.

Seamstress

The definition of “seamstress” is (female) one who sews. I don’t know the word for a male person who sews—“seamster”? Maybe “sewer”? (There's a gender joke there somewhere, but I'm not going for it.) Maybe “tailor,” which to me has a completely different meaning than “seamstress.” When I hear the word “seamstress,” I think sweatshop. I think slave wages. I think freezing, squalid conditions and 16 hour days weeping over a sewing machine. A treadle sewing machine. Now you might be getting an inkling of what my custom-order sewing career was like. I aspired to be a fashion designer or a tailor, and occasionally I managed to achieve dressmaker, but usually I ended up a seamstress.

Custom Clothing Designer

When my self-esteem was low, I called myself a seamstress. When it was higher, I claimed I was a custom-clothing designer. As a custom-clothing designer, I could present myself as somewhat in control of the design process, but still client-friendly as demonstrated by my willingness to do custom work. It’s just ambivalent enough to encompass all kinds of client interaction, and just prestigious enough to let one retain some shred of self-respect in the process. My clients could claim they had their own personal designer, and still tell me what to do. I got paid, they got what they wanted, and everyone was happy.

Artist

If you call yourself an artist, and your art has something to do with sewing clothes, you’d better be calling what you do “wearable art” and what you make better be wearable. Otherwise, be prepared to be spend a lot of money making and marketing your art and no time filling orders. Because you won’t have any.

The point of all this wordsmithing is to be aware of the power of language. The words you choose will set the tone of your enterprise. And the tone of your enterprise will communicate to prospective clients if your place is the right place for them. Learn from my error: I called myself a seamstress, and what I received were clients who expected to pay the minimum for my skills as a seamstress, and had even less respect for my talent as a designer. But whose fault was that? Not theirs. If you cringe at calling yourself a fashion designer when you barely know how to sew with silk, I urge you to do it anyway. It will get easier, (both the saying and the sewing) and eventually you will come to own it and believe it.

What do you want to make?

You have a lot of choices. I don't recommend doing them all, but I did, so maybe it will work for you, too. I said yes to everything that walked in the door. The only things I never made were girdles and shoes. Girdles because no one ever asked me to, and shoes because they were too much work. It can be exciting taking any job that comes in the door, especially if you are making costumes. One day you are sewing a beaded silk wedding gown, the next day you are padding a fake suit with foam rubber to make a skinny man look fat. And if you are in Hollywood, you might be making a suit for a magician in the morning and whipping up a satin peignoir set for a drag queen in the afternoon. Here are some choices:

Dresses (day, evening)
Wedding apparel
Tailoring
Leather
Children's apparel
Men's apparel
Hats, swimsuits, and other accessories
Costumes (theater, commercials, television, film, video)
Alterations
Home decorations

Location

Your choices are to work from home or work from somewhere else, maybe a studio, office space, loft, or warehouse. Home or not home. That is the question.

Working from home

Before you go out and rent workspace, spend some time thinking about how you would feel working at home versus working away from home. When I first started making clothes for money, it was on an ad hoc basis for friends and acquaintances. I didn't have a clear intention that I wanted to actually turn my craft into a business. I just sort of went with the flow, glad to have the extra cash. I had a little sewing area set up in my studio apartment, and I made pants for people for $15 a pair. (See, I told you I was a slave.) After a while, I moved in with a guy in Santa Monica. Three blocks off the beach, his place was drafty, moldy, and rent-controlled. He was an artist/surfer/musician who seemed constantly bemused by my intention to support myself by sewing uninteresting clothes for awkwardly shaped people. I commandeered the tiny eating area in the kitchen, lining the puke green walls with shelves for notions and patterns, and stashed bulging black garbage bags of fabric under the benches. I cut fabric on the living room floor, which he conveniently kept empty according to the rigors of his spartan artistic lifestyle. It worked well, until he stepped on a pin. We broke up in 1980.

The second kitchen experience (and relationship) was even worse. I was bombarded with odors from inside and outside Guy #2's tiny apartment on Detroit street. Sadly, the apartment was on the first floor, overlooking an alley behind a car dealership. Motor fumes wafted in though the kitchen window during the day and from the kitchen itself in the evening when my significant other cooked his dinner, which invariably involved large amounts of garlic. I don’t recommend using the kitchen dining area as a sewing space, especially if you or yours do a lot of cooking with garlic. To avoid embarrassment (and possibly the quick departure of your client), make sure before you start cooking to remove your client’s gown-in-progress to another room with a door that can close.

Renting a workspace

My first “studio” was a $100 per month 10’ x 10’ storefront on Ocean Park Blvd in Santa Monica, just up the street from Bob’s Big Boy. If you know Bob’s, or have seen any of the Austin Powers movies, you won’t be surprised that I used the Bob statue as a landmark to help my clients find me. That, and I painted my door bright lavender, so I could say to my customers, “Just past Bob, look for the purple door.” Being a visual person who is somewhat numerically challenged, those kind of color clues really work for me.

The ladies always gasped politely when they came in the door: the studio, no bigger than a small walk-in closet, was jammed with a little cutting table (which also served as the ironing board), a hanging garment rack, and wall to wall shelves stuffed with fabric and notions. I had one machine, my trusty old Singer 503A, which sat on a table that I built myself under the wall shelves. I sat on a folding chair, which was too short, so I put a 5” thick dictionary on top of it to boost me to the right height. (I still have that dictionary, but I don’t sit on it anymore.)

In the summer my little “closet” was stifling all day long, and when the relationship with Guy #1 broke up and I started living there, I found out it was hot all night as well. I made a cozy bed for myself on a slab of foam rubber on the floor under the garment rack. It was sort of like camping. I remember some exciting moments, waking with a start at 2:00 a.m. as a streetsweeping machine came roaring along the curb, literally six feet from where I huddled like a petrified beast in a burrow. The restroom was a dilapidated one-holer two doors down and through a courtyard, which was accessible to anyone who was curious enough to open the door from the street. Which is why I used a bucket when I had to. I can laugh about it now.

Eventually I was able to afford larger digs. I found a studio space in a loft warehouse above a camera store on Highland Avenue, just south of Santa Monica Boulevard. It was cold in the winter, and hot in the summer. I painted the floor industrial gray, separated it into work space and marketing space, and felt like I was something special. The drawback was that it was hard to find me. I had to direct customers around to the street behind, warn them to watch for a small driveway, then park in a particular place. When you are looking for studio space, even if you don’t expect to be serving walk-in customers, make sure you are easy to find, and that there is plenty of safe parking. If it’s the least bit difficult to visit you, your customers will show up long enough to get their garment, and then they will go someplace that is more convenient. Unless, of course, your prices are ridiculously low, which means you will most likely be too busy and too broke to move to better digs. Later on when we talk about profit and cash flow, you will see what I mean.

One day my landlady announced she needed the entire space for her burgeoning design business, so I moved a few blocks away to a second floor office in a decrepit building on La Brea Avenue. It looked like an old motel, with outdoor steps and a balcony built around an indoor courtyard, in the center of which was one huge royal palm tree. My upstairs neighbors were an empty office, Jack Somebody, who was some kind of “consultant,” and the Ginsu Spa, which was an Oriental massage parlor. When the marketing books say the three most important things to consider in retail are “location, location and location,” they aren’t kidding. At the very least, don’t make the stupid mistake of moving in next door to a massage parlor. Not only would their clients—middle-aged shifty-eyed men and embarrassed teenage boys—never become custom clothing clients, but the sleaze factor alone was enough to keep my regular clients from returning. The commercial stylists, who for awhile made up the bulk of my commerce, didn’t care, fortunately; they were a tough bunch. They thought it amusing to walk up the stairs with some guy who wouldn’t look them in the eye.

Family

There are other challenges to working at home. You are probably a more well-adjusted person than I, so you will not find yourself in the uncomfortable position of explaining to your irritated significant other why you had to stay up all night running various machines to finish the last bridesmaid dress. Guy #1 was chronically cranky that I stayed up working in my little kitchen “studio” after he went to bed. After all, it wasn’t his wedding on Saturday. What he wanted to do, besides get a good night’s sleep, was to see me once in a while. You have to choose your battles. If it is just you and your significant other, starting a business will bring out into the open the dirty red underbelly of your relationship problems. Maybe you can compromise before things crumble. If you find yourself asking yourself what’s more important to you, this relationship or your career, you might begin the process of finding or creating a separate workspace that you can leave at the end of the day.

On the other hand, if you spend long hours at an off-site studio, the situation will be the same, only you won't be at home. You will be someplace else, working late into the night to meet a deadline. The bottom line is, before you embark on this endeavor, ask your family how they will feel about it. Explain to them that it is possible they will rarely see you. If you have kids, look on the bright side. If you start them out early, you will have a ready source of slave labor for years to come. (Kidding. They will expect to get paid.)

Vision and mission statement

It is important—no, I'd say it is critical—that you write a vision for your business and translate it into a short and succinct mission statement. Your vision describes the reasons you are attracted to starting a custom clothing business. Some examples of mission statements:

“I share my love of beautiful well-fitting, fashionable garments with like-minded men and women who are eager and willing to pay me abundantly for my excellent design and sewing skills.”

“Women need high-quality fashionable, stylish officewear, and I deliver it to them with my excellent design and sewing skills.”

“I am dedicated to designing and sewing high-quality, custom-made wedding dresses to help brides look and feel their best on their special day.”

Your mission statement is what you and your business stand for. It is what differentiates you from other sewing businesses.

You should also describe what you expect this business to do for you. For example:

Provide me with $1,000 more a month income
Give me the chance to hone my skills and improve my craft
Get me out of the house
Give me a chance to meet the rich and famous
Teach me how to run a small business so that I can sell it/bequeath it to my heirs

Your customers can see your vision statement and your mission statement, but probably not the part about what you expect this business to do for you.

Business form

Probably in the beginning you will be a sole proprietor. That is, you are the business, and the business is you. Your two hands, your eyes, your brain, you are the owner and operator. You make all the decisions, you keep all the profits, and you take all the risks. There are other business forms you can choose. I'm not a business attorney. I recommend you talk to an expert, something I did not do when I started out.

You may have a friend or spouse you want to partner with. You may have discussed your strengths and weaknesses and found them complementary. Your friend is the extrovert, you are the introvert—you can do the sewing, she can do the selling. Sounds great, doesn't it? I tell you this from experience, the surest way to ruin a friendship or a relationship is to go into business with your best friend, spouse, or significant other.

My first partnership was with my friend Kate. We made costumes out of cheap vinyl. Remember, this was the 1980s, so our designs were mostly jumpsuits with shoulder pads the size of small turkeys. We had some minor successes, but really, who wants to wear jumpsuits that you can't sit down in and make you sweat? Not too many, I can tell you. After our venture dissolved, Kate went on to become a successful wardrobe stylist for television, film, and commercials. (A stylist is the person who procures costumes for a commercial production, sort of a harried costume designer who spends a lot of time shopping, working the set every day, and then returning the things that weren't used, earning $800-$1000 a day.)

Another business form is the S corporation form, which is the type of corporation that individuals sometimes create in order to limit their liability in a business. So, if a customer falls down your steps, or sits on a needle, she will sue your corporation, not you. In theory. You can find tons of information on the Web about types of business forms. You will want to consult with a business attorney to choose the business form that is best for you.

Target market

It may sound silly to identify who you plan to sew for. People, of course! My suggestion, if you want to be successful, is to do what the marketing books tell you and narrow your target market so you can focus and excel at what you do. Only Coke sells the same product to the entire world population. First, for sure you want to sew only for people who have the money to pay you. That leaves out most children and teenagers. (I say most, not all. In Los Angeles, many kids had way more spending money than I ever had.) Second, you want to sew for people who are willing to pay you for your services. (Beware of bridesmaids!) Then, think about the kinds of things you like to sew and the things you are good at sewing. (Remember, just because you are good at doing something doesn't mean you should do it.)

Product description

After you have identified your target market, describe in detail the type of work you will do for them.

Business plan

If you have read this far, you may have some ideas about how you will approach your business venture. Now, while the ideas are fresh in your mind, write them down. I repeat, write them down. This is the beginning of your business plan. There are many ways to write a business plan. The Web offers many templates and other resources to help. People write business plans for different reasons. You may need a business plan to get funding for your business, although, I have to warn you, it is unlikely any bank or venture capitalist would lend you money to open a custom clothing business. Now if you were opening a high-tech software company... Still, you may be planning to approach your friends and family for funding. If they are smart, they will demand to see your business plan. And if you are smart, you will write one.

I didn't have a business plan when I started. I just fell into sewing. I never intended to spend a decade sewing clothes for a living. If I had written a business plan back in 1980, I would have probably have identified my complete and utter lack of interest in sewing, saving me years of self-inflicted torture and $20,000 of credit card debt. More on that later.

Insurance

If you are working from home, before you take your first project, read the laws in your area that apply to starting and operating a home-based business. For example, many cities have zoning laws that will affect how many visitors, employees, or cars you can have. The Small Business Administration website at sba.gov has some general information, but you need to check for local regulations before you start your business.

Insurance is all about risk management. Bad things happen. We are all at risk. We try to limit our risk and our potential losses by purchasing insurance. There are at least five types of insurance you must have before you open your business: liability, disability, health, car, and homeowner’s/renter’s insurance. Look online for sources and prices. Read reviews and talk to people, especially other small business owners and professionals like accountants and bankers.

Liability insurance

Liability insurance is what comes to your rescue when a customer steps on a needle, sits on a pin cushion, or falls down your stairs. Or when she breaks out in hives because the flannel in her new custom-made pajamas was treated with flame-retarding chemicals. Or when you accidentally cut a priceless of piece of heirloom lace in exactly the wrong spot. Or when you lose someone’s favorite dress. Or when one customer steals another customer’s leather jacket. I could go on, but you get the picture. When I was in business, things were different. Bad things happened, but people weren’t so apt to sue over them. I never lost a client to a swallowed pin, thank the gods. And the time I ruined someone’s garment, it was a black denim jumpsuit I could remake from scratch. I got lucky. If you really pursue this business, you will eventually be faced with an unhappy client. The words “I’ll sue you for every penny you’ve got!” may be the last words you ever hear, if you don’t have liability insurance.

Disability insurance

After you’ve been sued, you’ll need this type of insurance. Just kidding. You should have disability insurance whether you are sued or not. Disability exists to protect your income if you get sick or injured and can no longer work. Social security benefits will eventually kick in, but only if your disability lasts a year or more, and what will you do in the meantime to pay your bills? Disability insurance is the answer. Earlier I mentioned a beader who insured his eyes. I’ve heard of hand models who insure their hands. You may not need to insure a specific body part in your business, but for sure you should have basic disability insurance to protect your source of income.

Health insurance

Everyone should have health insurance, whether they are self-employed or not. Health insurance is expensive, though, for the self-employed, especially if you offer it for your employees. When I was self-employed, I had no health insurance. My health strategy was “Don’t get sick.” When I got sick, I dragged myself to the free clinic. When I needed a root canal, I paid with a credit card. Living life on the precarious edge of ill health is no way to run a successful business. You are the primary adult caregiver in your own life: Take care of your health like a grown-up.

Car insurance

It is illegal in most states, I believe, to operate a motor vehicle without at least a basic level of car insurance. That means you must have liability; collision insurance is great, but not necessary if your car is over ten years old. When I first started sewing for a living, I drove a 1966 Dodge Dart. After a couple years, I upgraded to a 1974 Toyota Corolla wagon. I always had basic liability insurance in case I ran into someone. Or over someone. Luckily I never did. If I had, my insurance would have paid damages on the other person’s car, but not mine. I would have had to haul out the credit cards again.

Homeowner’s/renter’s insurance

You should have homeowner’s insurance if you own your own home, or renter’s insurance if you are a renter. If you work at home, this is important. What if someone breaks into your house and steals your stuff? What if you leave your iron on, and the place burns down? Whoopsy. Document all your equipment, supplies, and furniture with photos and serial numbers. Print it and keep a copy in a safe off-site location, like a safety deposit box at your bank or in a coffee can buried in your back yard. Make sure you have appropriate security on your doors and windows. And get homeowners/renters insurance, because you just never know what is going to happen.

Working with professionals

Your lawyer

A lawyer can help you write letters of agreement. A lawyer can look over contracts so vendors and landlords don't take advantage of you. Lawyers are also expensive. I didn't have a lawyer and didn't have a clue how to get one. I guess you just go down to the lawyer boutique and pick one off the shelf? Kidding. Probably best to talk to people. Talk to your banker and your accountant. And beware the attorneys that advertise on television, you know, those creepy no-neck guys with poorly-fitting suits.

Your accountant

I once paid $50 for some business advice to a tax accountant I found in the yellow pages. My question was, “What do I need to start my business?” He got out a piece of yellow lined paper and wrote about ten things on it. He explained a few of them as if he were talking to a six-year-old. I was so embarrassed and intimidated that I fled as soon as I could, after writing my $50 check with a bright red face. I felt like a fool. That was before the Internet, but I could have gone to the public library and found a wealth of information for free. I guess I thought if I paid money to a so-called expert, that made me an authentic small business owner.

I gave up on accountants for a long time. I don't recommend that as an ongoing strategy, unless you are an accountant yourself. (If you are, you probably should decide how you want to spend your time: sewing or accounting?) Ignoring your bookkeeping is bad. I learned the hard way. I bartered sewing for accounting services with a young college graduate who later went to work for Arthur Andersen. (We all know how well that worked out.) I made her two rather lovely wool suits, tailored to fit and delivered to her home. She did my taxes and told me I owed the IRS $3,000. It didn't seem like a fair trade to me. I'm not a big fan of bartering anymore.

Your banker

I was in business before ATMs, so I had to actually enter the bank and talk to a real person. Actually open the door and walk inside. I know, shocking. Still, that didn't help me develop a relationship with a banker. The day I opened a business checking account was pretty fun, but it was all downhill from there, once I realized that the big fancy blue vinyl checkbook wasn't going to guarantee money in the account.

Your coach

Your “coach” may be a counselor, a priest, a mentor, a shrink, or a real live coach. You should have one, or all of the above, especially if you work alone. You need a cheering section to help you keep going.

On the next page, you will find some tips to help you get through the start up phase of your sewing business, including setting up your space, purchasing and arranging equipment and supplies, staying organized, and marketing your sewing venture.