You found an event.
The date works. The location works. You fill out the application, upload a few photos, answer some questions, hit Submit and wait.
What happens next?
I've spent years on that side of the application. I've applied to more vendor events than I could probably count. I've been accepted, rejected and waitlisted. I've wondered what an organizer was looking for and why one event said yes while another said no.
Then I ended up on the other side of the table.
And there's something I wish I understood sooner:
Every application is intentional.
Or at least, it should be.
There Isn't One Thing I'm Looking For
I wish I could give vendors a magic formula.
Great pictures + detailed description + beautiful booth = accepted.
It doesn't work that way.
When I'm reviewing applications, I'm thinking about the market I'm trying to build. How many spaces do I have? Where are those spaces? Who have I already accepted? What's sitting in my pending pile? What kind of customer am I expecting? What categories are already heavily represented? What's missing?
What I'm looking for can literally change from one application to the next.
If I have 100 vendor spaces and no jewelry vendors, I'm going to look at a jewelry application differently than I will after I've already accepted several.
That's why standing out matters.
And standing out doesn't necessarily mean having the fanciest booth, most expensive displays or trendiest product.
Sometimes it simply means giving me enough information to understand what makes you different.
Please Don't Make Me Guess
“3D prints.”
Okay.
What kind?
Are you commercially licensed to print articulated dragons from a particular designer? Are you designing and printing your own fidgets? Are you making home decor? Cosplay pieces? Miniatures?
Those details can be the difference between your application and another one selling something that appears, at first glance, to be exactly the same thing.
The same applies to tumblers.
Epoxy resin tumblers, sublimation tumblers, UV DTF tumblers and laser-engraved tumblers are all technically tumblers.
They're also different products made using different processes that can appeal to slightly different customers.
Tell me the details.
If I ask for social media or a website, there's a reason for that too.
Yes, I'm looking at your products. But I may also be looking at your engagement. Do you post about the events you're attending? Do you tell your customers where they can find you this weekend?
Promotion doesn't fall solely on the organizer. When vendors promote where they're going to be, they're not just helping themselves. They're helping bring people to a market where every business has an opportunity to make a sale.
The more information you give me, the less guessing I have to do.
Because sometimes I will go looking.
If I recognize your business name, I might already know what you sell. I might look through your social media. I may visit your website. I may even ask another organizer about their experience with you.
But organizers can be reviewing hundreds of applications.
We can't spend three to five days emailing every applicant to get answers to questions that were already on the application.
If your answers are vague and nothing jumps out at me enough to make me want to investigate further, sometimes the answer isn't necessarily “no.”
It may simply be “not yet.”
Your Booth Matters — But Not Because I Expect a $3,000 Setup
I care about booth pictures.
A lot.
But I'm not looking to see who spent the most money on displays.
First and foremost, I'm looking at safety.
Is the booth neat? Clean? Organized? Does the layout make sense? Does it look professional? Can customers reasonably shop it?
And if you're standing in the booth photo, I'm looking at you too.
Do you look approachable and engaged?
Or is your face buried in your phone?
You don't need a Pinterest-perfect booth to get accepted into one of my events. I do, however, want to see that you've put thought into how you're going to present your business.
This gets especially important when you sell a little bit of everything.
I'm guilty of that myself.
What I can sell and what I actually bring to an event are two very different lists. My website has far more products than I could reasonably put into a vendor booth without it becoming overwhelming.
So when someone lists ten completely different product categories, I don't automatically reject them.
But I might ask to see their booth.
Can you make those products look like they belong together? Is the booth cohesive and shoppable?
Or is it going to feel like a garage sale?
Those are very different things.
Duplication Isn't the Enemy. Oversaturation Is.
I've heard vendors complain about duplicate categories for as long as I've been doing events.
Personally, I don't believe duplication is automatically a bad thing.
I regularly vend alongside other 3D printers.
We don't necessarily use the same machines, materials, designers or processes. Our finished products can be different even when we're technically selling within the same category.
I've heard customers say mine looks better but costs more.
That's okay.
I'm not in everyone's budget.
What I want customers to know is that if my product earns their purchase, I've made it to last.
Another customer may choose a different vendor because they have the exact color, mascot, team or design they're looking for.
And sometimes seeing similar products several times actually makes someone circle back to the booth whose presentation, selection or product they liked best.
The problem isn't duplication.
It's oversaturation.
And where that line sits depends entirely on the event.
Three similar businesses among 150 vendors is very different from three similar businesses in a 20-vendor market.
When I'm curating, I'm considering the number of spaces, the physical footprint, how vendors are arranged and how many businesses the anticipated attendance can reasonably support.
Sometimes Price Matters Too
This is especially true with food and drinks.
I may ask for a menu with pricing before accepting a food vendor.
If I already have several vendors selling a comparable 32-ounce lemonade for $8, I'm going to have serious reservations about approving someone selling essentially the same drink for $15.
“Stadium pricing” at fairs and festivals can hurt the entire market.
Customers don't have unlimited spending money.
If eating and drinking at an event consumes their entire budget, there isn't much left to spend with the merchant vendors. Or worse, customers decide everything is too expensive and leave.
Curation isn't only about protecting businesses from too much competition.
It's about considering the customer's entire experience.
A Great Business Can Still Be Wrong for the Market
This might be one of the hardest decisions to explain to someone.
I can absolutely love what you make and still tell you I don't think you should do my event.
If I don't believe your target customer is going to be there, I don't want to take your money just because I have an empty space.
Imagine I'm curating a market at a church.
A vendor whose entire product line centers around swear words and dark humor may have fantastic products. They may have a beautiful booth. They may do incredible sales at other events.
That doesn't mean they're right for that market.
Putting them there could reflect badly on the business and the organizer—and more importantly, they could spend money, time and effort preparing for an event where very few people are interested in what they're selling.
There are tons of markets and craft shows out there.
Sometimes “no” doesn't mean you have a bad product.
It means I don't believe this particular event gives your product the audience it deserves.
And sometimes “no” isn't even no.
I've told applicants that their category was particularly popular and that I've placed them on a waitlist. If an accepted vendor can't attend or doesn't pay their invoice, I can go back to that list.
It's a guessing game.
And it's one I don't take lightly.
Sometimes My “No” Is Protecting Someone Else's “Yes”
This is also why I take what's listed on your application seriously.
Please do not show up with an entirely different product category that wasn't on your application.
If you applied with one product and arrive with another unrelated category that wasn't disclosed, I'm going to tell you it wasn't on your application and needs to be packed up and removed.
Not because I'm trying to be difficult.
Because I curated the event based on the information everyone gave me.
I may have rejected or waitlisted another vendor selling exactly what you just snuck onto your table because that category was already full.
Allowing you to sell it anyway isn't fair to them.
Now, businesses change. New products arrive. We create new things.
Nobody likes surprises, so communicate with me.
Send the message:
“Hey! I had a new product arrive and I'd love to debut it at the market. Would that be okay?”
Great! Congratulations. What is it?
If you tell me “3D prints,” my gut reaction may be no because I already have that category represented.
But I'm going to ask more questions.
What kind of 3D prints? How much of your booth will be dedicated to them?
Once I know what you're actually proposing, I may say absolutely.
Or I may say, “I'm sorry, that category is full. I'd reserve those for your next market.”
What the vendor sees is the no.
What the organizer sees is every other vendor who accurately completed the application, followed the rules and trusted us to curate the market fairly.
Protecting the Peace Matters
Vendor reputation matters.
So does organizer reputation.
Vendors talk. We travel together. We set up together. We recommend events to each other. We warn each other about events. We remember which organizers communicate and which disappear after collecting payment.
And yes, vendors remember other vendors too.
We're human. Double-booking happens. Emergencies happen. Mistakes happen.
But patterns create reputations.
Consistently canceling events, failing to pay invoices, showing up with products you weren't approved to sell or ignoring event rules will eventually affect how people view your business.
The same is true for organizers.
If I enforce a rule for one vendor but let another vendor ignore it, people notice.
If vendors learn that someone can break the rules and get their way, resentment builds.
Part of organizing an event is protecting the peace.
Sometimes taking a stand preserves my own sanity. More importantly, it protects my reputation for being fair.
If I expect vendors to trust my decisions, my decisions have to mean something.
I'm Not Looking for Perfection
When I review your application, I'm not looking for perfection.
I'm thinking about curation and the opportunity for everyone to succeed.
There isn't one answer to what I'm looking for.
It depends on the event. The space. The audience. The accepted pile. The pending pile. The products. The price points. The experience we're trying to create.
And yes—experience matters.
Interactive vendors are some of the easiest applications for me to get excited about.
Build-your-own bracelets. Bead-your-own pens. Paint-your-own projects. Caricatures. Live demonstrations. Chainsaw carving. Blacksmithing. Sand art.
Those vendors aren't only selling something.
They're giving people another reason to stay.
And the longer customers are enjoying themselves, exploring and interacting with businesses, the better opportunity we've created for everyone.
I Can Provide the Stage
When an organizer takes a vendor fee, I believe some of that money should be going toward making the event successful.
There are plenty of expenses involved in putting on an event, but promotion needs to be one of them.
Flyers. Signage. Radio or television advertising when appropriate. Social media. Boosted posts. Whatever makes sense for that particular market.
Something should be happening with that fee to help get people there.
But promotion doesn't fall solely on the organizer.
That's another reason I'm looking at whether vendors tell their audiences where they're going to be.
We're all promoting the same destination.
And after all of that?
I can't force people to show up.
I can't drive around, kidnap people, drop them at the event and force them to spend money.
I can't guarantee anyone a certain number of sales.
What I can do is curate intentionally. Promote the event. Communicate. Enforce the rules fairly. Consider the customer we're trying to attract. And give the businesses I accept the best opportunity I reasonably can.
I can provide the stage.
The vendor must enter the spotlight, captivate the audience, make the connection and sell the item.
So if you get a “no” after your next application, don't automatically hear:
Your business isn't good enough.
Sometimes that no means your category is full.
Sometimes it means another event may have a better audience for what you sell.
Sometimes it means the organizer is protecting vendors they've already said yes to.
And sometimes it just means not this market, not this time.
The best organizers aren't trying to collect as many vendor fees as possible.
They're trying to build a market worth shopping — and one worth coming back to from both sides of the table.
Now I Want to Hear From the Other Side of Your Table
If you're a vendor, what's something you've always wanted to ask an event organizer about the application process?
And if you're an organizer, what's something you wish vendors understood before they hit Submit?
I've spent enough time on both sides of the application to know there isn't one right way to build a successful market — and I know my perspective isn't the only one.
Send me your questions, experiences or even the thing you completely disagree with me about.
You might just inspire the next conversation Around the Table.