Why I Love Craft Fayres (Even When They’re a Bit of a Nightmare)

I often get asked why I keep doing craft fayres. They’re not exactly a goldmine. By the time I’ve paid for the stall, filled the car with fuel, and fed myself something other than crisps, the profit margin is… let’s just say “slim.”

They’re also a complete faff. Most of the ones I go to are two or three hours away, which means an early start, a long drive, and that moment when you realise you’ve forgotten something essential like your charger or your card pay machine. Setting up takes forever, packing down takes even longer, and you can’t exactly nip off for a wee whenever you fancy.

And yet, I love them.

I always come home tired but happy, with a head full of conversations and a heart that feels a bit lighter. Every fayre I’ve done has brought me into contact with genuinely lovely people. Curious, kind, funny, creative people. Some stop to ask about my process, others tell me about their own crafts or love of nature. We swap stories, compare methods, share tips. Sometimes I’m lucky enough to spark a great conversation about the things I care most about: the woods, the wildlife, the small things that connect us to the natural world.

Even if I don’t sell much, I come away feeling purposeful. There’s something about being part of a room full of makers that reminds me why I do what I do. It’s not just about selling pendants or books, it’s about connection: to people, to creativity, and to the satisfaction of putting something truly “hand-made with love” out into the world.

So yes, craft fayres are stressful, exhausting, and occasionally chaotic, but they’re also brilliant. And I’ll keep doing them for as long as I can load the car and smile at strangers.