I’ve been on Etsy for 13 years.
I first opened my shop in 2011. I remember sitting in my college's printmaking studio having been inspired by the artists and makers I saw at the 2nd annual Craft Lake City festival, and deciding then and there that I wanted to make a living selling my art just like them. Right in that very room, I opened up my Etsy shop.
That printmaking studio was the birthplace of LIONINTHETREES.
Ever since, I have made 7,338 sales on the site—that's not a lot compared to others, but I think it's a fantastic achievement! My first sale was a woodblock printed Shiba Inu pillow I made for one of my college printmaking classes; and my last sale was an enamel pin I designed and produced ages ago with the help of one of my kickstarter campaigns.
And it saddens me to say that I’m finally breaking up with Etsy.
Etsy began as a site for artists and makers to connect with people who were interested in buying handmade goods from real people; real artists. But over time, Etsy has forgotten the artists who helped make the brand/site the success that it is now and has since become a rather hostile work environment for us small artisans and makers.
And the thing that made Etsy superior to any other online e-commerce platform was the search function. Being able to type in any kind of keyword or phrase to find an item made it so you could find pretty much anyone on the site selling goods related to those words. With other e-commerce platforms, it’s impossible to find any other artist or maker unless you know their exact URL.
However, with the incentive to pay for ads and algorithms with invisible hoops to jump through, it’s become incredibly difficult for artists with small shops to gain any sort of visibility while the search feature has become dominated by drop-shippers and shops selling shit you can buy on aliexpress and pass off as your own.
Even buyers are experiencing the same frustrations and problems issues with the site. It’s become incredibly difficult to find actual artists to support amongst the sea of drop-shippers; people masquerading as artists selling knock-off and counterfeit goods; and now with the newly announced policy change—the disease that is AI art being permissible to sell on Etsy further poisoning the site (and the internet).
I found myself feeling constantly irritated with their patronising “hints and tips” that popped up on the seller dashboard under the guise of “being helpful”, trying to tell me how to run my business—
"Advising" me to lower my shipping prices and eat the costs while they take a cut out of my shipping charges to boost their own profits;
"Advising" me to change my prices to “stay in competition” with other stores selling similar items.
I do not give a flying fuck how much someone else is selling their stuff for. I will set my prices to what I see fit.
I am not Amazon.
I am not Walmart.
I am not a robot.
I am a human being—one woman—doing all of the work.
I know more than Etsy does on how to properly run my business that allows me to have a healthy work/life balance. And I will not be bullied into working myself to the bone, jumping through all of these stupid hoops, just so Etsy can try and squeeze blood out of my pennies for the sake of their shareholders.
I am thankful for every sale that I’ve received over the past 13 years because any amount of money has been super helpful to me as a one-woman show. But this past year, every new order that came in filled me with a sense of dread. I never had a bad interaction with anyone on the site. But between the Star Seller program and feeling like my every action and “performance” on the site was being heavily scrutinised, over time I just felt more and more anxious and stressed selling on the platform.
In the back of my mind, I would wonder if this customer was going to be the person who would leave me a non 5-star review for some stupid reason lowering my search rankings and ruining my Star Seller streak; or that I would accidentally forget to ship something out on time by one day; or that I would forget to reply back to someone within 24 hours.
And it’s not the fault of any of my customers—or people interested in purchasing something.
This is 100% Etsy’s fault for creating such a hostile platform.
Before my trip to Utah this past July, I put my shop in vacation mode as I typically do when I’m gone for long periods of time. But when I got back home I kept putting off bringing the shop back.
The thought of doing so made me nauseous and stressed, and I realised that the entire month of July I had felt so relieved and free without having my Etsy shop as a constant current of worry running in the back of my mind.
Between the constant fee hikes; my sales tanking over the past couple of years; never-ending changes that continue to harm small artists; feeling punished for operating my shop in a way that is healthy and best for me; and knowing that the people running Etsy truly do not give a fuck about artists I’ve heavily debated on closing up my Etsy shop over the past few years.
I’ve continued to leave it open for EU customers because Etsy makes it easy to sell to specific countries that have legal import hoops to jump through; and because any amount of money I make every month is super helpful. But I’ve been considering the emotional and mental damage Etsy has been causing me and whether or not that money is worth it.
And this past July, I was thinking that maybe it’s time I officially cut Etsy out all together and trust that The Universe will provide for me and bring me the income I would be missing out on via my main shop.
I feel so nostalgic for an Etsy that no longer exists—a place that once nurtured and celebrated the OG, Early Aughts DIY vibe and spirit that it was founded for and upon.
It’s so sad to see what the place has become now because of greedy motherfuckers who don't know how to be content with their excessive amount of wealth they've accumulated off of the blood, sweat, and tears of others.
I loved Etsy and what they stood for in a past era.
But they're no longer who they used to be.
And it's finally time for me to say goodbye.
