I suppose you could call me a walking marketing campaign – and an unwitting one at that.

Let me explain. Besides acting as Bon’s Eye editor-in-chief, I also design and make jewelry in my spare time. This started as a hobby a couple years ago, at the urging of my friend (and Sarah’s mother), Laura.

“Look,” I said to her one spring evening back in 2007. “I just need something creative to do, something I can get my hands on that doesn’t involve computers or business writing.”

Remembering my brief foray into collage, I added, “Or glue guns.”

“Beads are just the thing, and clean, too,” said Laura, who can turn chewing gum wrappers into wall art. “You’ll love it.”

And I did. From picking up my first length of wire to stringing a mix of black and clear crystal rounds, I was hooked. I soon graduated from single strands to multiples; simple hoop earrings to killer dangles; and straightforward designs to intricate silver wirework and all sorts of embellishments.

I made jewelry like mad (still do), and when I wasn’t stringing or wrapping, I was reading about it. Or browsing online catalogs. Or visiting local bead shops, where Wilmington’s happiest people hang out. I even took lessons.

I made jewelry for friends and relatives, and they actually wore it. I also designed a lot for myself, pieces born from hours of sifting through bead boxes – 14 to be exact – brimming with faceted glass in gelatin shades of strawberry and lime, lemon and watermelon.

If someone told me they liked the bracelet I was wearing that day, I simply whipped it off and handed it over. I could always make more.

The fact that I spent more of my “fun money” on beads and silver than anything else – even chocolate – never fazed me; nor did the fact that after a while, people started asking if I sold my stuff. “No,” I was usually quick to say. “I do this for fun. I don’t want it to become a job.”

Then, a couple weeks ago, a woman at Costco – she was handing out granola samples in the cereal aisle – admired the necklace I was wearing and requested my online address. She wanted to visit my jewelry Web site, she explained.

“Don’t have one,” I said.

“A business card? A catalog? Some pictures?” she asked hopefully.

“Nope. I do this because I like to. I don’t sell my things.”

She paused a moment, took another look at my necklace and said, flatly,

“Well, you should.”

The following week, a local boutique owner admired my agate choker and echoed the Costco lady’s sentiments. Not long after, a woman in my Rotary club, where I wear a new creation at practically every meeting, asked if I could make an earring and necklace set for a friend. Her budget was $150, she said.

I thought a moment – that figure would cover materials, labor and three really big bags of M&M’s. The universe was dropping far too many hints to ignore. I said “yes.”

And so began my new sideline. I could still have fun, my husband assured me upon learning of my first big order. But by selling a necklace here, some earrings there, I would at long last garner well-deserved validation of my artistic talent. Underwriting the cost of my bead stash would be good too, he added, a tad casually.

Now, I tell this story to make a point. Wearing my jewelry every day, all day, actually got me into the business of bling. Imagine what ongoing, consistent marketing might do to help my venture grow.

Naturally, I expect to do a little legwork, but not too much. I’ll probably start with well-crafted cards and brochures to hand out when someone admires my jewelry. If nothing else, my recent experiences have taught me that sales can happen anywhere, anytime – at a party, during meetings – or in the local big box store.

As a matter of fact, a slick little Web site might be a good idea, too. I know of at least one Costco lady who would think so.

By Marita