This is an archived page in Craft Australia's Basement. It is from another time and place - our old website.
Click here to return to Craft Australia's current website.

  Archived files in the Basement

Articles - 27 September 2007

Playing shop

Left to right: Juliana, Rowena and Angela Foong
Horseshoe Beach, Newcastle, 1989

We, sisters-three, lived with our parents in a suburban corner house in Kuala Lumpur Malaysia. So humid was the weather that even the walls sweated, searching desperately for the cool of the tile floors. As little girls, we remember the excitement of playing 'shop' as a welcome distraction from the thickness of the heat. We turned coffee tables into shop counters, lounges into shelves and laundry baskets into shopping trolleys. Everything in the house was for sale.

The currency of exchange was appropriately supplied by Monopoly. Buying, selling, bargaining and decorating became second nature. We opened the shop when we pleased and sold what we liked. At times of sister rivalry and temper tantrums, the shop would be closed and left abandoned for hours. But only until after dinner time, when the shop would re-open once again.

Over a decade later, living in the sunny beachside suburb of Newcastle Australia, we resumed the playing of 'shop'. Childhood nostalgia got the better of logic and common sense at our tenderly, naive ages of 18, 20 and 22. We opened a real shop and called it Spareparts Industries. Scrap yards were strip-searched for a chance encounter with a wooden table, racks and shelves. As our parent's household items were no longer for sale, we resorted to sourcing used clothing from opportunity shops and depots. The customer base extended beyond those with our surname, and they purchased with real money. Making our first $100 was the best day of our lives!

Spareparts Industries
Shop front, 2001

As swiftly as the first $100 was expensed on celebratory drinks, we learned the reality of running a real 'shop'. The small premium on selling pre-loved clothes could not pay the bills and sneezing fits resulted from the op-shop-induced hay-fever. The excitement of playing shopkeeper was diminished by looming overhead costs and our allergy to dust.

With a view to our future as resourceful women, our mother taught us to cook and sew very early in our lives. "Aiyahh, why pay someone else to fix your dress when you can do it yourself!" she told us convincingly. "And you can start by fixing these pants", dad added. We started to sew clothes for ourselves, taking apart old garments and working out how to re-assemble them. During quiet shop hours, we amused ourselves on our small domestic machine, experimenting and sewing in the back room. Customers became inquisitive, giving more attention to our experimental, unfinished, one-off pieces than the vintage garb on the racks. We decided to set up a single rack of our own hand-produced garments which eventually generated better sales than the usual shop stock. Before long, the pre-loved garments were replaced by our new love of hand-made fashion. Hay-fever vanished as soon as we gave our little shop a new dust-and-allergy-free life. It was time to seriously commit to making this business viable. We were feeling all kinds of emotions - excitement, happiness, gratefulness, anxiety, steely determination, fear of failure. But we took a leap of faith and jumped in head first. Our label, shop and business High Tea with Mrs Woo, began - circa 2004.

Spareparts Laboratories
Blue Murder, 2002

The happy times did not last long as we came to realize that sewing 8 hours for a twenty dollar garment could not pay us or our bills. We learnt about costs and pricing and increased our prices to exceed our costs. We decided to share our fortunate retail opportunity by housing a handful of independent fashion and accessory labels on sale-or-return terms in our store. It was an overwhelming responsibility as a retailer, feeling the disappointment and rejection of each maker and designer as we informed them of little to nothing in sales. We encouraged the making of excuses: Newcastle is a small niche market; Sydney or Melbourne would generate greater sales; the price point is too high; perhaps a different shade of red ... better luck next time. We joined the rollercoaster sales ride as retail joy became retail pain, searching endlessly to determine a way to pay our bills, sell our designs and make everyone happy.

We found ourselves swimming against the tide of customers' needs and wants, towards the distant horizon of free-creativity unaffected by business and sales. Playing retailer was exhausting - part sales assistant, cleaner, book-keeper, adviser, manager, mentor and negotiator. We had little left in us to think, design or create. Our shop was a reflection of our feelings at any point in time - we were tired, messy and lost - and so was our shop.

High Tea with Mrs Woo
Unfolding Florence, 2007

Constant assessment and reassessment directed us to wholesale. After planting our seeds firmly in Newcastle soil, a need and desire to grow began to intensify: to grow our market outside of Newcastle; to wholesale to stores around Australia; to compose our store into a melody of craft, design, illustration, nostalgia and story-telling; to grow our business so the three of us could make a living doing what we love. The realization was that growth was necessary just to sustain our business. We needed good days to sustain the bad days. We needed new retailers to invest in our label, to cover any that could not survive the volatile and exhausting game of retail. We needed to pay ourselves more than $1 an hour. We needed to sleep and be healthy. We also needed a life outside our business. Was balancing business and life just a myth?

And so we stepped up to the next level - wholesale. More volatile and competitive, we had to grow thicker skin, and learn the skills of diplomacy and objectivity. Grateful to the insight gained from our retail experience, we set conservative expectations for a slow and organic growth of our label across Australia. Maybe, one day, our designs could travel to other parts of the world. Our shop generated additional cashflow, provided direct customer feedback and gave us the freedom to window dress and merchandise as we pleased. Wholesale was our means to growth, exposure and eventually, we wished, a living. Retail and wholesale, inextricably linked, forced us to be aware of our customers, our market, our materials and our prices. Our work and design process continues to involve the balancing of our ideas and creativity with the constantly changing requirements of customers, retailers and the economy. At times, we anguish at the lack of time and creative freedom, pressures of sales and competition, and often perceived disposability of fashion. But like any occupation, career or practice, the secret to longevity is to maintain interest, enthusiasm and passion and to enjoy the ride.

High Tea with Mrs Woo
Shop interior, 2007

At the Smartworks Symposium (Powerhouse Museum, Sydney) in May this year, BBC radio broadcaster Peter Day informed us that we were egoists to expect consumers to buy whatever craft we created. As craftspeople and designers, we are a small link in a long chain between suppliers, manufacturers, retailers and consumers - and we do not create in isolation. There are now millions of markets to thousands of consumers, when previously there were millions of consumers to only thousands of markets. This realization was overwhelming. We had just decided to give up our second jobs! However, we are slowly coming to accept our boundaries and attempting to work creatively and flexibly within these moving walls. We discovered our objective was not to separate business and pleasure but to find pleasure in doing business, learning, sharing, designing, making and meeting people through our practice.

High Tea with Mrs Woo
Shop front, 2007

Our first milestone was starting our business and we recently achieved our second milestone. Having exceeded three years in business, we have joined the remaining 5% of small businesses in Australia that continue forwards. In celebration of our commitment, our little 'shop' finally has a permanent sign, the letters - HIGH TEA WITH MRS WOO, in brass. As they oxidize with the passing of time, we hope to weather as well as these letters, and remain as long as they do.

Angela Foong
Confirmed and re-confirmed by Rowena and Juliana Foong
High Tea with Mrs Woo
September 2007

HIGH TEA WITH MRS WOO is a Chinese-Australian three sister design team who love to bake a good story, blending Western influences with Eastern charm to create unusual and striking designs. Greatly considering the materials they choose, they love the idea that "an intriguing piece of fabric can reveal a great yarn."

Also see: 716 craft·design Issue #25 October 2007
Special issue on Commercial galleries and retail outlets

This article was previewed in 716 craft·design Issue 025 October 2007. ISSN 1835-1832

top