Craft Shows: What I Learned, What Worked, and Why I Walked Away

When I first started Henry Hardwood, craft shows weren’t even on my radar. Then a friend—who’s been doing them successfully for years—started telling me how great they were as a sales engine. She shared story after story of packed booths and strong sales.

It felt like a rite of passage.

Like something I had to do if I was serious about this business.

You build inventory, load the truck, set up a booth, and spend the day talking to people who supposedly came to buy handmade goods. On paper, it sounds perfect—face-to-face conversations, immediate feedback, cash in hand.

So last year, I decided to take a “test run” approach.

With my friend’s help, I signed up for four local shows spaced across the second half of the year. They were easy to get to, shows she personally did very well at, and—let’s be honest—they involved alcohol. And people drinking tend to be a little looser with their wallets. 🙂

So I did them.

And eventually, I made the decision to stop doing them.

This post isn’t meant to talk anyone out of craft shows. For some makers, they’re a great fit. Instead, I want to share my honest experience—what worked, what didn’t, and the questions I think every small maker should ask before committing time, money, and energy to the craft show circuit.

What I Expected Going In

I expected craft shows to do three things:

• Generate sales

• Build local awareness

• Create momentum for my business

Those aren’t unreasonable expectations. In fact, they’re probably the same reasons most makers sign up for their first show.

What I didn’t fully account for was how much craft shows demand—not just financially, but mentally and physically.

The Reality of Craft Shows (At Least for Me)

Here’s what a typical show actually looked like:

• Weeks of building inventory ahead of time (squeezed in around other builds)

• Buying display pieces, signage, table coverings, and packaging

• Booth fees (reasonable in my case)

• Loading, unloading, setup, and teardown

• Standing all day

• Long stretches of foot traffic with very little buying intent

And after all that?

Two shows covered their booth fee.

The others were outright losses.

That’s not a complaint—it’s just math.

As a one-person shop, every hour I spend preparing for a show is an hour I’m not building custom work, improving my process, or growing online sales.

That tradeoff matters.

The first show went fairly well—but almost entirely because of friends. Don’t get me wrong, the support meant everything to me. It honestly almost brought a tear to my eye how many people showed up and bought something.

But what I was really looking for was validation from a stranger—someone who didn’t know me, didn’t owe me anything, and still chose to buy my work.

The second show, I adjusted my lineup to include smaller, more gift-friendly items. I sold just enough to cover the booth fee and handed out a lot of business cards, hoping they’d turn into future custom work.

They didn’t.

The third and fourth shows were an absolute bust. Roughly 20 hours of my life gone. Almost no visitors. No business cards taken. Zero sales.

Not a single item sold.

The Biggest Misconception: “Exposure”

One phrase comes up constantly with craft shows:

“Even if you don’t sell much, it’s great exposure.”

Exposure can be valuable—but only if it leads somewhere.

In three of the four shows, not a single business card was taken. At the fourth, I “sold” about 20–30 business cards. Three months later, I haven’t seen a single lead come back.

Here’s what I learned:

• Many shoppers aren’t in a buying mindset—they’re browsing

• Business cards get taken… and forgotten

• Instagram follows don’t always turn into customers

• “I’ll come back later” often means never

Exposure without a clear next step isn’t a strategy—it’s hope.

And hope doesn’t pay for lumber.

When Craft Shows Do Make Sense

To be fair, craft shows aren’t bad across the board. My friend makes a living doing them, and I met other vendors who do very well.

In my opinion, they tend to work best if:

• Your products are lower-priced and impulse-friendly

• You can batch produce efficiently

• Your margins can absorb slow days

• Your personality thrives on in-person selling

• The show has a proven, buying-focused audience

• You’re okay spending a full day (or weekend) in a parking lot or field

If you’re selling $20–$40 items with strong visual appeal and quick turnaround, shows can absolutely make sense.

My work?

Custom pieces. Higher price points. Longer build times.

That mismatch matters.

The Moment I Knew It Was Time to Step Away

The turning point wasn’t a single bad show.

After each one, I did a retrospective and tried to justify the results:

• Bad booth location

• Bad weather

• Bad timing

• Competing events nearby

But eventually, I couldn’t ignore the bigger picture:

• I was exhausted

• My shop time was shrinking

• I was falling behind on custom orders

• I was missing time with my family

• The return didn’t justify the effort

When something starts pulling more out of your business than it puts back in, it’s worth reevaluating—no matter how “normal” that thing is supposed to be.

Walking away wasn’t quitting.

It was adjusting focus.

What I’m Doing Instead

Stepping away from craft shows freed up time and energy for things that were actually growing my business:

• Improving my website and product listings

• Investing in better photography and storytelling

• Taking on more custom and meaningful projects

• Building relationships instead of chasing foot traffic

It’s a slower burn—but it’s more sustainable.

And more importantly, it’s profitable.

My Advice If You’re Considering Craft Shows

Before you sign up, ask yourself:

• What exactly do I want out of this show?

• How many pieces do I realistically need to sell to break even?

• Is my product a good fit for impulse buyers?

• What am I giving up to be there?

• Would that time be better spent elsewhere?

You also need to evaluate the show itself:

• What’s the location like?

• Where is your booth positioned? (First-timers often get the worst spots.)

• What’s the weather risk?

• What time of year is it? Are people in a spending mindset—or broke and exhausted?

Craft shows aren’t a requirement.

They’re just one tool—and not every tool fits every shop.

Final Thought

There’s no single “right” path in a handmade business.

Some makers thrive at craft shows.

Some thrive online.

Some do both.

I don’t regret doing the shows. They were a learning experience, and I made a few useful connections. But at the end of the day, there was no ROI. And as a one-man business, I can’t afford negative returns.

Stepping away was the right move—and recognizing that felt like growth, not failure.

If you’re on the fence, I hope this helps you think it through with a little more clarity—and a little less pressure to do what everyone else is doing. Or if you’ve had a different craft show experience, I’d love to hear about it.