Guides / Getting started
How to get a shop online by sending photos
Most makers who don't have a shop online aren't missing the technology. They've opened a site builder, looked at an empty page, and closed the tab.
That's worth naming, because the advice aimed at these people is almost always about the wrong problem. It explains how to pick a template and connect a domain — the mechanical parts, which were never the hard bit.
What actually stops people
Ask anyone who's stalled and it's one of five things, none of them technical.
Naming it. Your shop needs a name, you've got three you half-like, and choosing one feels permanent.
Writing about yourself. The About section sits there wanting a story, and writing "I've always loved making things" makes you want to shut the laptop.
Describing the work. You know the piece intimately. Turning that into two sentences that sell it to a stranger is a different skill, and it doesn't come free with making things.
Choosing a look. Fonts, colours, layouts. Forty decisions, no feedback, and every one of them reversible — which somehow makes it worse.
Showing the prices. Not setting them. Showing them, publicly, with your name attached.
That's the real blank page. A template doesn't help with any of it.
Three routes to actually getting online
1. Do it yourself with a builder
Squarespace, Shopify, Wix, WooCommerce.
Good for: people who enjoy the fiddling, or who want exactly one specific thing and won't be happy until it looks right.
Costs you: a weekend, minimum, and usually several. Plus a monthly fee from day one, before you've sold anything. And it dumps all five of the problems above in your lap at once.
Honest note: a lot of people genuinely do this and are fine. If you've already got a site half-built and you like the process, finish it — this article isn't for you.
2. Pay someone to build it
A freelancer, an agency, a friend's nephew.
Good for: when you know exactly what you want and have the budget.
Costs you: real money, a brief you have to write, and — the bit people underestimate — a dependency. When you want to change a price in eight months, you're emailing someone and waiting.
3. Send someone your photos and let them build it
You email photos of your work, your prices, and a few lines about what you do. Someone builds the shop and sends you a link. You take it over from there.
Good for: the blank page problem specifically, which is most people.
Costs you: less control over the first version, and you wait for a human rather than clicking a button. It isn't instant.
Why it works: every one of the five blockers gets solved by someone who isn't emotionally involved. Naming, describing, laying out, pricing display — those are all much easier when it isn't your work and your nerve.
What to send
If you take the third route, this is the whole job. Fifteen minutes.
1. Photos. Five to ten pieces is plenty. Daylight, plain background, phone camera is fine. Don't wait for a photoshoot — the shop can be rebuilt with better photos later, and never going online because the photos aren't perfect is the most common way this fails.
2. Prices. What each piece costs. If something is made to order, say roughly how long it takes. If a price depends on size or a conversation, say that instead of guessing.
3. One or two lines about what you do. Not a biography. "I paint on canvas bags and stoles, mostly florals, based in Delaware" is enough. Someone else will turn that into the wording on the page, and you can change it afterwards.
4. Where you are, and how people reach you. City, and whether you want a WhatsApp or email button.
5. Anything you definitely want or definitely hate. "My work is very colourful, I don't want a dark background." One sentence saves a round trip.
That's it. The list is short deliberately — if getting started takes more than one email, you'll put it off.
What to expect back
Be realistic about it.
A first version, not a finished one. It'll be about eighty percent right. The wording will be close. One or two things will be in the wrong order.
Not instantly. A person is doing this. Same-day or next-day is reasonable; "in two minutes" means a template, which is the thing that didn't work for you before.
Yours to change. This is the part to check before you commit to anyone: can you edit it yourself afterwards, or are you back to emailing someone every time a price changes? If it's the latter, you've bought route two with extra steps.
What you still have to do yourself
Nobody can do these for you, and it's worth knowing before you start.
Decide the prices. Someone can lay them out beautifully. They can't tell you what your work is worth.
Send people to it. This is the real one. A shop online is not a shop with customers. The link goes in your Instagram bio, in your WhatsApp status, on your market stall sign, in your email signature. Nobody finds a new shop on their own.
Keep it current. Sold out, new piece, closed for August. Five minutes a week. A shop whose last update was eight months ago reads as closed.
Reply quickly. Most first sales from a new shop come from someone asking a question first. The speed of that reply matters more than anything on the page.
The honest summary
If the only thing standing between you and being online is that you can't face the blank page, don't buy a tool to solve it. Tools are good at layouts and bad at blank pages.
Hand the blank page to someone else, get something eighty percent right in front of you, and then fix the twenty percent. Reacting to something that exists is enormously easier than creating something that doesn't, and that's true for everyone, not just people who think they're bad at this.
About Kalaikona. This is exactly what Kalaikona's early-access route does: email a few photos of your work and your prices, and someone builds you a real storefront and sends you a link to take over. You set your own password and edit everything from then on.
It's a person doing it, so it isn't instant, and it's invite-only while in early access. Send what you've got to start@kalaikona.com and someone will come back to you.