Yet another marriage ends. “There’s just no trust” sobs Alicia Shaffer, as she walks away with only her (handmade) clothes

…and crafters everywhere rejoiced!

For (just one emotional side of) the story behind this public split of a once amicable (and profitable) marriage, yahoo writes:

https://www.yahoo.com/makers/exclusiveetsys-richest-seller-explains-why-127615604095.html

Really?  Really Alicia??  Really?

Yep. Really.

I can’t decide what part of this whiny, self serving article I like the best, because it’s all so laughably ridiculous.  Alicia Shaffer tries to point to ONE undelivered $20 item as the reason she was suspended.  Come on now, Alicia.  ONE customer complaint?  Try hundreds and hundreds.  And not just undelivered.  Crappy quality.  Misrepresented colors.  Made in China. Made in India. Six week waits.  TV interviews with a woman who seemed unfamiliar with how to “make” her own product. Excuses piled on excuses…with Dr. Seuss-like explanations of country-shifting factories and busy little Who workers in Whoville knitting until their eyes crossed and their fingers bled in order to satisfy all her adoring customers.

To which we all call bull**** and raise our glasses in a collective toast to perhaps one of the first truly wise moves on Chad Duckersons part in quite some time. I mean Dickerson. Chad Dickerson. He would never “duck” his way around a controversy…shame on all of us for our lack of trust.

Speaking of which, Alicia’s richest comment in the midst of her walking out of her marriage (to Etsy) in a huff has to be “we (I) can’t trust them (him).”  Ok (cue up sounds of uncontrollable laughter) someone please pick me up off the floor because we’d have thought that the word “trust” was a word that this little diva didn’t even understand, much less know how to pronounce or grasp the meaning of…or even dare vocalize to anyone other than her local fruit stand manager.  As in “can I trust that this is really an organic kumquat?”  (Answer “No you can not”)

Since she obviously never grasped the concept of trust, it’s our civic duty to help explain it to her.  Let’s see…let’s define “trust”.  Trust.  A noun to some, a verb to others.  Defined as “the firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something”.  Used in a sentence:  “When you say that you and your merry band of knitters can churn out 297 pairs of Aztec leg warmers IN ONE DAY, we “trust” (reliably believe, have faith) the assurances that there really IS a merry band of hand knitters sitting in your sunny Livermore backyard whipping up each newly ordered pair of socks.”   That “trust” came from the fact  that you were selling those (each one 100% identical to each other) items on a site reserved for craftspeople who really DID make things by hand.

And not to harp on the word “trust” but since you did bring it up…when you told your partner (Etsy) that you would not cheat on him, he (kinda) believed you.  (Insert that silly word “trust” again).   Your neighbors believed you too, and continued to support you and “buy” your story (and your socks).

And so peace and prosperity manifested its zen until someone peeked over your fence and (gasp!) caught you in the act of cheating.  (I mean opening huge boxes of cellophane wrapped, SKU stamped leg warmers, then tossing cardboard boxes into your recycle bin that said “I’m from China, PS:  ignore rumors of that pesky substance called lead!”)

Busted.

At which point your only option was to pack your (handmade) boho clothes and storm out in a huff, hurling the words “I just can’t trust you” over your shoulder as a parting shot.  Muttering “I contributed a lot to this marriage” and “I was leaving anyway, that’s why I wasn’t really paying attention to you any longer.”

Wait what?  The cheater can’t trust her Etsy husband?    I’m not sure what to say about that, except that everyone in the neighborhood already knew what she was doing and everyone kept trying to warn her husband.  They wrote anonymous notes and stuck them under his car’s windshield wipers.  They left anonymous messages on his phone.  They watched her carry on with a great big guy called China, and then when China got too complicated, she ran out and hooked up with a new guy called India.

But her partner loved her (revenues) so much that he froze out anyone who tried to point out that behind her pretty face and (handmade) boho clothes, things weren’t working.  Finally he caved, and started following her around, only to confirm that she and India were literally in bed together and had no intention of breaking up.

Older and slightly wiser, he had the locks changed and filed for a divorce.

Surprisingly brazen to the end, Ms. “Boiling Blood” Shaffer still appears to believe that she did absolutely nothing wrong by camping her cheap shit on a crafters website and passing it off as “handmade”.   Her bank account certainly supports her outrage…she’s got enough blood money socked away to keep her and all her knitting girlfriends in boho fashionista gear for quite a long time.

Until, of course, it wears out after three washings.

But hey, good luck out there in the real world, Three Bird Nest.  We won’t miss you.  At all.  And, while you take your little pot-shot at the “other types of stores who only sell a few things a week” you know and we know that TBN never would have made it big without Etsy as its launchpad.  Lord knows the world has plenty of overpriced imported crap to pick from without your (hand made boho) hat in the ring.

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