The Brooklyn Craft Fairs Write a Love Letter to You

by Erica Sackin

Brooklyn had about 12 craft fairs this weekend, with four or five taking place in Williamsburg-Greenpoint alone. There was the 3rd Ward Fair in Williamsburg, and the Hearts and Crafts Affair at Cafe Grumpy, in Greenpoint. These are often grandiose affairs, like Etsy on acid, with DJs and gift bags, and someone serving happy hour-priced mixed drinks and Colt 45 in juicebox-size bottles. For sale, everything from clothing to recession-based holiday gifts, like keychains for keys to things you do not have. It makes sense, of course. With so many struggling artists per capita, why not connect them with the masses desperate to buy that one unique gift?

Maxwell Sherman, 28, and Sarah Jones, 24, sell meticulously-made neon spandex clothing and cotton hooded sweatshirts (Ruffeo Hearts Lil’ Snotty). Both also wear their creations while sporting oversize glasses and asymmetrical haircuts. Maxwell kept apologizing for how sleep-deprived he was, but, while helping customers find the right size of striped rainbow underwear, he explained their story. The two started out protesting-sweatshop labor, the World Trade Organization, the War in Iraq-but soon realized that they could make more of a difference by changing the means of production themselves.

“We were feeling a deficit of clothing we wished was out there and made in an accountable way,” Maxwell said.

“We also lived in a small town and there was nowhere to get a job,” said Sarah, who started working with Maxwell back in 2005 when the two were in Olympia, WA. “We decided to create our own clothing line as an experiment and it worked out.”

Now they support themselves making clothing full time, and even appeared on CBS to teach Mo Rocca how to make a hooded sweatshirt (which he then took to Martha Stewart for an on-air review).

“Protesting is good,” said Maxwell, “but if you can make your daily life about changing the means of production, that’s really revolutionary.”

Korakrit Arunanondchai, 23 (art, clothes) wore his own creations too; intricately silkscreened clothing that from afar resembles Jackson Pollock in dayglo, but up close is startlingly beautiful.

“The shirts are designed to be worn to a gallery,” Korakrit said. “The more people who wear them to look at art, the more they become art too, and the more seamless the experience becomes.”

Korakrit came here four years ago from Thailand to study art and silkscreening, and all his designs are based on traditional Thai patterns mixed with Japanese manga language. Korakrit usually hand makes about 100 shirts a year, and will occasionally give them away to high-profile figures (this year three went to M.I.A., who did not wear them, and one to each member of the indie band Yeasayer, who did). But because he makes each shirt by hand, he doesn’t give them away often. “For someone else who mass produces their work, three shirts might be nothing. But three shirts cost me about $100,” Korakrit said.

Phillip Stearns, an audio engineer and composer, was promoting his classes on handmade electronics as well as selling his work.

He describes his creations as “musical compositions manifested as electronic circuits that are both interactive and self-contained,” or more simply, “art that needs you.” His course at the art space Third Ward, which was hosting that day’s craft fair, teaches students how to handmake their own version of The Clapper.

Sitting in front of his creations-spindly-looking electronic devices that stood alone or patterns of wire and speakers mounted on cloth and wood-he explained the point of making electrical circuits by hand.

“There’s something about working with a real physical object,” Phil said. He waved his hand in front of a piece of burlap sewn with light sensors, wires and speakers, demonstrating the different sounds he could make with his shadow. “So often engineers work with abstract representations of circuits on a computer. They never actually work with the circuits they design.”

There were also un-Christmas cards by a young artist who makes great drawings.

With the exception of Maxwell and Sarah, most vendors I spoke with did not make a living from their crafts. Many were art students, either in school or recently graduated. Others taught as well, or held part- and even full-time jobs to support themselves. And then there was Chris Sullivan, a scruffy and enthusiastic 22, who was selling love letters for a penny.

The idea came from an independent film he’d made this summer featuring a young girl selling love letters. Since he had the sign left over, he figured he’d try his hand at the craft fair. “Love letters connect people,” Chris said. “They make people happy.”

Although he’d only made about $15 that day, the money was beside the point.

“The weirdest one I’ve written was for a guy who came up and said, ‘Make me one that’s the dirtiest one possible,’” Chris said from behind his handmade wooden sign. “It was pretty raunchy-he said he wanted to give it to a girl that he thought was pretty. I found out later that he gave it to a model from Project Runway.”

Although Chris has written dozens of love letters for other people, he’s never gotten one himself.

“He also does it to meet girls” said Chris’s friend, as Chris worked on a letter for Awl readers.

“That’s not true!” Chris replies. “At least,” he adds, “not anymore.”

Previously: The Underground Press

Erica Sackin writes and lives in Brooklyn. She was once a contestant in the Ms. G Train competition, but lost. ‘The Spandex Report’ covers the lives of the youngs.