The Walkit Story - Part 4

(This is the fourth part of the story of the Walkit sketching bags. Here you can read the first part, the second part, and the third part.)

Only when I am totally lost it occurs to me that the solution is often simply to ask. Without words, just with a deep breath. “Please, can I have a hint? Which way to go? What am I missing? Give me just a little hint, please, anyone out there…?”

/Anyone out there…? - a sketch from Amsterdam/

/Anyone out there…? - a sketch from Amsterdam/

The hint this time came in the shape of the phone number of a retired seamstress in the next village falling out of a pile of notes.

I had her number for a long time, I even met her once. She was a kind old lady, but somehow I wasn’t sure she was capable… She is too old… Probably stiff and old fashioned... So I have put her number aside and forgotten about it. But at this point - three weeks before the Symposium - I had no choice. I called her.

She told me she was happy to give it a try, but since she had been leading a sewing factory all her life and hadn’t actually been sewing much herself, she might be a bit slow… Oh, my God, I thought, that’s my kind of luck, but what can I do?

And she - Jutkanéni - was my luck indeed. And has been, ever since. One of the highlights of the whole entrepreneur journey for me is finding her and working with her. She is smart, wonderfully flexible, attentive, creative but humble, professional to the highest point, a maximalist, and a true fan of Walkit sketching bags. She owns this project wholeheartedly, she is not only a manufacturer but a developer, and a loving grandma to me. (She is absolutely worth a separate blogpost, so she will get one!)

She and Kriszti have made some 60 bags for me at the last minute.

/Waiting to be sewed/

/Waiting to be sewed/

I bought a train ticket to Amsterdam and exchanged home with a friend in Ijburg - I could stay in their amazing home, feeding the hamster and the goldfish and commute to downtown on canal-side bicycle routes on her gorgeous chic bicycle.

So finally there I was, sitting on the train with a suitcase full of sketching bags. My friend and doula, Joli, spent the last day and night with me. She just watched the crazy speed of finishing up and packaging the bags, packing my stuff, she helped a lot, washed some dirty dishes, and put me up on the train the next day (and I guess sat down with a huge sigh after I left). 

On the way to Amsterdam I kept chanting encouragingly to myself: “if you sell only two that is just fine”, “everything will be as it has to be”, “strive on and trust” ...and so on.

/One of the earliest versions/

/One of the earliest versions/

Before the Symposium I took part in the gorgeous workshop of Marina Grechanik and Suhita Shirodkar, “People Mania”, and also had some time to stroll the city and sketch. I met up with sketchers I love a lot, sat in coffees, sketched, and generally enjoyed that here we are, in a beautiful place, in great company.

/People Mania sketches/

/People Mania sketches/

I also met András - the first time I met a Hungarian sketcher at a USK Symposium! -, and we had a fun day together in Amsterdam, on our bikes, in the sunshine, between sketches and apple pies.

/Opposite the café where the best apple tart can be found in Amsterdam/

/Opposite the café where the best apple tart can be found in Amsterdam/

On the first official symposium day I picked up my suitcase, went to the venue very early, and sat down on the bridge nearby. Despite the early hour (6am!) sketchers were sitting all around, sketching, randomly punctuated by sleeping homeless people.

I was anxious. I am not a seller at all. I am not the one standing outside the door telling people to buy sketching bags. Nope. I wished I could just sketch, as these people around me do. But I had a suitcase full of sketching bags on the bench beside me. I have gone a long way, I have put lots and lots of hours, days, weeks and months into this. I can’t pretend it’s not there. I can’t let myself down now

/A very shaky morning sketch from the bridge/

/A very shaky morning sketch from the bridge/

At the venue I met Gail, a member of the amazing team of organisers, and gave her the sketching bag she ordered. My first customer. “But this is professional!” - she exclaimed in surprise (I guess she expected something like my own hand-stitched one), and I quietly sent a thankful thought home to Jutkanéni. I then went upstairs to the marketplace to find Ketta, to thank her for the beautiful sketchbook she sent me the previous year. I gave her a bag as a gift, and also to Mattias, her 6yrs old son. I was about to leave back downstairs when she put the bag around her waist, put a sketchbook in it, and joyfully showed it to the people standing around her table. “Oh!” - I heard someone saying - “Where did you get that??” Before I could blink, three sketching bags were sold from my suitcase... Then I ran downstairs to listen to a presentation by Mario Linhares. By the time he had finished I had received three messages on my phone: “Can you come outside, there are people waiting to buy sketching bags!”

That’s how it started. And went on. I was standing beside my bicycle with the suitcase opened on the rack, and people would crowd around. I did not have to sell. The sketcher community passed on the vibe and people came to me saying: “I saw your lovely bag on someone, do you have more?”

The next day Ketta - very generously - shared her table at the market with me as she basically sold her sketchbooks the first day. We enjoyed each other’s and Mattias’ company a lot, and had much fun behind the counter.

So the situation really smoothed itself out. I was again experiencing the invisible support. I was held. I did my part and the rest was taken care of.

/”The” suitcase…/

/”The” suitcase…/

I don’t know if my heart or my suitcase was lighter on the train journey back. My head was buzzing with the experiences, my heart overflowing with happiness - partly for the success of the bags, but partly for the joy on people’s faces: they loved my bags! They did!!! That made me happier than anything else. And I made so many friends through the bags! I had such good conversations! I was filled with gratitude and joy to my last cells.

This is how the story of Walkit bags started. It has been almost exactly two years now. The journey goes on ever since, somewhat less dramatic and eventful, but not a bit less full of joy and learning.


Thank you for reading it, and thank you for any comments and thoughts you feel like sharing!

A very thorough review of the bags was written next March by Liz Steel, take a look!

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The Walkit Story - Part 3