One Email, So a Handshake Never Makes You Cry
The Independent Maker's Self-Defense Notebook - A Story About Consignment and "But You Said..."
*Isamu Hibari / Alaudae.JP*
To Begin: Precisely When the Happy News Comes
"Would you like to place your work in our shop?"
For a maker, there is hardly a happier invitation. Your pieces on the shelf of a little gift shop, in the corner of a cafe. Just imagining it makes you smile.
Today is about a small preparation for exactly that happy moment. Like the recent articles, this is not a scary story. There will be no talk of law, and no talk of contracts. The only thing that appears is one email.
"But You Said..." Happens Even When Nobody Is a Bad Person
With consignment and wholesale, the troubles that surface later usually gather around these points:
- The money - when a piece sells, what share comes to you
- The unsold ones - when and how they come home, and who pays the return shipping
- Accidents - if a piece is damaged or lost in the shop, who does what
- Payment timing - the month after a sale, or all together later
These things often get settled loosely, in a chat at the counter or a few direct messages. That in itself is natural. The problem is this: human memories drift apart without any bad intent.
Half a year later: "The return shipping was on your side, was it not?" "Oh, I do not remember saying that..." Neither of you is lying. And yet the stories do not match. And it is usually the small maker who ends up swallowing the difference. "Well, I want to keep working with them..."
That swallowed feeling quietly wears away the joy of making.
No Contract Needed. Just One "Thank You" Email
"Then let us sign a contract" - admirable if you can say it, but honestly, it is hard to bring up. The relationship is still young and soft, and you do not want to make things stiff. I understand completely.
So forget contracts for now. Instead, on the evening of the day everything is settled, send one thank-you email.
> Dear Ms. Smith,
>
> Thank you so much for your time today.
> I am truly happy that my work will have a place in your shop.
>
> Just in case my memory plays tricks on me, let me write down what we discussed today.
>
> - Items on consignment: 5 handbags
> - Commission: 30 percent of the sales price
> - Payment: by bank transfer, at the end of the month following each sale
> - Unsold items: returned after about three months, shipping at my expense
> - Damage during display: we will discuss if it happens
>
> If I have anything wrong, please do let me know.
> Looking forward to working with you.
That is all. Far from causing friction, it leaves the impression of a careful, considerate person.
And this email is exactly the weapon we have been talking about throughout this series: a dated record. If the shop replies with a simple "Yes, that is right," even better. If "but you said" ever happens, there it is: not a piece of paper, but an email, ready to help both memories.
The important thing is the shape of the message. You are not pressing anyone with "we agreed, remember?" You are doubting your own memory first: "just in case my memory plays tricks on me." With that one turn of phrase, the very same content lands completely softly.
This Email Also Shows You What Was Never Decided
Something interesting happens when you sit down to write this email. You notice: "Oh. We never talked about the unsold ones."
In a happy conversation, joy runs ahead and the details fly past. The blanks that appear when you write things down are the things not yet decided. Be honest about them, right in the email:
> - I realize we did not get to talk about unsold items. May I ask about that another time?
This email even works as a gentle excuse to ask the questions that are hard to ask.
One Small Step You Can Take Today
Is there a shop, right now, holding your work on a handshake alone? If so, it is not too late. Send one email, wrapped in a friendly check-in:
> Hello! I hope my pieces are doing well.
> By the way, I wrote down our arrangements from before, as a note for myself.
> In case I remembered anything wrong, I would be glad if you could take a look.
And for the next happy invitation, saving the template above in your notes is a fine preparation in itself. The cost today, once again: the time of one cup of tea.
Closing
A handshake is not the problem. The problem is a promise living only inside two memories. One email gives the promise a date and a home. That is not distrust of the other person. It is a small act of care, so that a good relationship stays good.
May happy invitations stay happy. Wishing you joyful making today.
