Pricing - the eternal struggle of artists everywhere! You’ve spent hours melting, shaping, and praying to the kiln gods, only to face the ultimate question: "How much should I charge for this masterpiece?"

Before you start Googling "How to live off baked beans," let’s break this down, starting with the emotionally charged, deep-seated fears that most artists bring to the proverbial craft fair table. I run an artist collective which at the moment is called Lytham Handmade (but I'm thinking about changing to Fylde Artist Network). I try hard to meet all the artists that join and listen to their woeful laments - here's a taster:

I don't know what to charge (there's a reason it's at the top)
I'm not good enough
My work isn't good enough
It's just a hobby
I have a job, so I can't charge for my work
Such and such's work is better than mine
I create in my living room, I'm not a proper artist

We'll get to the emotional stuff, but for not... Pricing doesn’t have to be a mystery wrapped in emotion and self-doubt. Take a deep breath, grab a glass of fizz and read on for my guide to zipping up your big girl pants and charging what you're worth.

First Things First: Stop Comparing Yourself

It’s tempting to price your work based on what everyone else is charging. “Oh, that artist is selling a fused glass bowl for £20, so I guess I’ll do that too.” Noooo, you hear me howl... Just no. Their costs, skills, and situation are not the same as yours EVER. Pricing based on competitors might work in the short-term, but is unlikely to pay YOUR bills or get YOUR kiln repaired when it needs it — in the long run.

Let’s get specific about your glass art, your time, and your costs. And no, “it’s fine, I don’t need to get paid” is not an acceptable answer.

The Emotional Cost of Pricing: Why Confidence is the Real Key

Here's the thing, this article is nothing new. In the main most artists know how to price their work. They’ve read the blogs, done the maths, and maybe even created a complicated, but oh so beautiful spreadsheet. So why, despite all this, do so many still underprice? The short answer? Confidence—or lack thereof, a deep misunderstanding of the value of art and what it means to be creative and a short-sighted 'cheaper is better mentality'.

When you price your work, you're not just slapping a number on a piece of glass; you're placing a value on your time, your skills, and ultimately, yourself. And let’s be honest, that’s scary. What if no one buys it? What if people think it’s too expensive? What if they laugh? These questions run circles in your head until you decide it’s safer to charge a tenner and call it a day.

Here’s the hard truth: pricing isn’t just about costs; it’s about having the balls to believe in your worth. Pricing fairly means accepting that some people won’t buy your work, and that’s okay. You’re not selling cheap mass-produced plates at IKEA; you’re selling handcrafted, one-of-a-kind art. Not everyone will be your customer—and that’s a good thing.

"But It’s Just a Hobby!" (For fuck's sake, seriously? Stop It!)

If I had a pound for every time someone said, “Oh, I don’t need to charge properly—it’s just a hobby,” I’d finally be able to afford that kiln upgrade. Whether you’re a full-time artist, a side hustler, or someone who just enjoys the odd Sunday afternoon making glass trinkets, your time and materials still have value. And having a hubby who earns a fortune and supports your glass addiction still doesn't matter, you HAVE to charge for your work... read on for why.

By refusing to charge fairly, you’re not only devaluing your own work—you’re undercutting every artist out there trying to make a living. That bowl you’re selling for a tenner? The person next to you at the craft fair who’s charging £40 for a similar piece now has to explain to customers why their work costs more. Spoiler: it’s because they’re factoring in their time, materials, and the actual cost of running a business.

Undervaluing your work doesn’t make you generous or humble; it makes it harder for the entire community of artists to be taken seriously. So, hobby or not, please charge properly. You’re not just pricing for yourself—you’re pricing for all of us.

How to Grow a Pair (Metaphorically Speaking)

If the thought of charging £40 for a bowl makes you want to curl into a ball and cry, here are a few tips to help boost your confidence:

Remind Yourself of the Process

Take a moment to list everything that goes into your work—the time, the skill, the materials, the kiln firings, and the learning curve. That bowl didn’t just magically appear. It’s the result of years of practice and effort.

Practice Saying Your Prices Out Loud

The next time someone asks, “How much is this?” don’t immediately blurt out “Oh, it’s just £10… but I can discount it if you want!” Practice saying your prices with confidence. Say it in front of a mirror if you need to.

Get Comfortable with Rejection

Not everyone will value your work, and that’s okay. When someone says, “That’s too expensive,” what they really mean is, “That’s not in my budget.” It’s not a reflection of your worth as an artist and its not an indication that you should drop your prices with the same speed I'd drop my knickers if Chris Hemsworth appeared at my next craft fair.

Find Your Tribe

Surround yourself with other artists who understand the struggle. Join groups, connect on social media, and share your pricing nightmares. It’s easier to be brave when you know you’re not alone.

Remember: Cheap Work Devalues Everyone

When you underprice, you’re not just hurting yourself—you’re hurting the entire community of artists. You’re sending the message that handmade work isn’t worth much, and that’s simply not true. Unless of course you are creating shite in which case this post is probably not for you.

The Practical Stuff: The Pricing Breakdown

Now that we’ve dealt with the emotional stuff, let’s get back to the maths (because bills don’t care about your feelings).

1. Production Costs: What Does It Actually Take to Make Your Piece?

This is where you tally up everything you’ve used to create your work. We’re talking materials, tools, and a bit of that elusive magic that keeps the kiln from eating your creation. Consider the following:

• Glass: Base glass, frit, stringers, powders—get it all down. (Yes, even that one shard you almost stepped on. It counts.)

• Upcycled Materials: Did you spend an hour scrubbing labels off a gin bottle? That’s labour, girl.

• Tools & Equipment: Kiln paper, molds, cutters, glue. Oh, and let’s not forget kiln wash, the unsung hero of every firing.

• Miscellaneous Extras: Paints, decals, enamels—anything that makes your work unique.

Top Tip: Write the cost of materials on the packaging when you buy them. That way, you won’t have to dig through ancient receipts or scroll through your email inbox searching for that one supplier invoice, but if you're a tight Yorkshire bird like me, chances are you already have a good idea of what costs what in your little brain.

2. Your Time: Yes, It’s Worth Something

This is the hardest bit for most of us. How much is your time worth? Spoiler: It’s worth more than minimum wage. If you’re experienced, skilled, or just really good at not smashing everything before it gets to the kiln, you deserve to be paid accordingly.

Start by tracking your time. How long does it take to cut the glass, assemble it, fire it, and finish it? Be honest. That one hour you spent staring into space while waiting for the kiln shelf to finish drying and doesn’t count—but everything else does.

Top Tip: If you’re new to this, start with a realistic hourly rate—say £15-£20. As your skills and confidence grow, so should your rate.

3. Indirect Costs: The Unseen Gremlins

These are the sneaky background costs that aren’t directly tied to a specific piece but are vital to your business. Think:

• Studio rent or a chunk of your mortgage.

• Utilities (electricity for the kiln, internet for all those Instagram posts).

• Insurance (because, let’s face it, glass is breakable, and so are humans).

• Advertising (gotta get those Facebook ads running).

• Champagne budget (non-negotiable).

Top Tip: A good rule of thumb is to add 25% to your production costs to cover these.

4. Cost of Sales: The Fun of Selling

Whether you’re hawking your wares at a craft fair, selling online, or working with galleries, there are always extra costs involved. Don’t forget to account for:

• Booth/table fees at fairs.

• Gallery commissions (usually 30%-50% of your sale price).

• Payment processing fees (thanks, PayPal).

• Packaging (because bubble wrap doesn’t grow on trees).

• Travel costs (petrol, parking, overpriced craft fair sandwiches).

Top Tip: Keep a record of all these costs. It’s not sexy, but it’s necessary.

Final Thoughts: Channel Your Inner Pricing Goddess

Pricing your glass art is part maths, part bravery, and part telling that little voice in your head to shut the fuck up and off. You’re not just selling glass; you’re selling your creativity, your story, and your unique vision. People don’t just buy products—they buy the passion and skill that went into making them, they buy the artist and their personality, their story, their ethos and their vulnerability in putting their glass babies out into the world.

So next time you price a piece, do it with confidence. Remind yourself that your work is worth every penny. And if someone doesn’t like it? That’s their loss. Pass the champagne and move on.