The Learning Curve Diaries, Part 2 – Product Pages, Price Tags, and a Cup of Coffee (Eventually)
Stephen MontgomeryShare
When you picture starting a creative business, you think about the fun stuff—designing products, crafting unique pieces, and imagining customers marveling at your genius. What you don’t picture is spending half a day deciding how much a coaster weighs.
Welcome to the glamorous life of building an online store. Spoiler alert: it’s not glamorous. But it is an adventure, and today’s tale is all about product pages, price tags, and that elusive cup of coffee I’ve been promising myself since 9 a.m.
The Art of Product Pages (Or: Why Is This So Complicated?)
Step one: put products on the store. Simple, right? Nope. Each product needs a category, a collection, a description, a price, and an estimated weight (because apparently, shipping is a thing?). By the time I finished assigning categories, I wasn’t sure if I was running a store or playing a very boring version of Tetris.
Then there’s the pricing. How do you decide the value of something that’s been handcrafted, sanded, laser-cut, and occasionally sworn at? Do you factor in emotional attachment? How about the number of biscuits consumed during its creation? I settled on “reasonable but slightly mysterious,” which feels very Ruff Kutts.
Evocative Descriptions: A Masterclass in Overthinking
Writing product descriptions is like trying to name a band—every idea either feels too obvious or too pretentious. You can’t just say, “Here’s a plaque, it’s funny.” You need to sell the dream.
Take coasters, for example. Do I say, “It’s a coaster; it stops your table from getting wet”? Or do I say, “Elevate your coffee break with this beautifully laser-cut masterpiece, handcrafted to protect your furniture and your vibe”? Obviously, I went with the second option, but not before spending 20 minutes Googling synonyms for “masterpiece.”
The Weight of It All (Literally)
If you’ve never tried estimating the weight of a product you haven’t made yet, I envy you. Is a coffee stirrer heavier than a bookmark? What’s the average weight of a cheeky plaque? Does anyone really care as long as it fits in the box? These are the questions that haunt me.
And Then There Were Photos
Once the products are listed, described, and weighed, they need pictures. Lots of pictures. The kind of pictures that make people go, “Wow, I need this in my life!” instead of, “Why does this look like it was photographed on someone’s kitchen counter at 3 a.m.?”
Uploading photos feels like the last piece of the puzzle, but it’s also a marathon. You want the lighting to be perfect, the angles to be flattering, and the whole vibe to scream Ruff Kutts. It’s an art form, really. Or maybe I’ve just inhaled too much plywood dust.
Why I Keep Going (Part 2)
Here’s the thing: for all the frustration, overthinking, and biscuit-fueled despair, I love this process. Every product page I finish, every photo I upload, brings me one step closer to launching something I genuinely believe in.
And yes, some days feel like I’m spinning plates while juggling chainsaws. But then I remind myself: no one else is going to build Ruff Kutts. This is my project, my dream, and every tiny detail—from the weight of a bookmark to the phrasing of a description—matters.
So, if you’re reading this and you’re on the fence about starting your own creative venture, here’s my advice: do it. It’ll be messy, overwhelming, and occasionally ridiculous, but it’ll also be worth it.
Next Time on The Learning Curve Diaries
Will I finally finish the product photos? Will the descriptions become even more dramatic? Will I ever stop Googling synonyms for "artisan"? Stay tuned for more behind-the-scenes chaos, creativity, and maybe even that cup of coffee.