Okay, so… hosting a vendor’s market? Not for the faint of heart, my friend. It’s like juggling sushi rolls, karaoke mics, and endless email threads all at once. But honestly? It’s also one of the most rewarding and fun things I’ve ever done. I’ve been learning along the way (sometimes the hard way), and I figured it’s only fair to share my notes so you don’t end up crying into your bubble tea.

When you imagine hosting a vendor’s market, it feels like a dream: rows of colorful booths, indie brands showcasing their work, the sound of music and laughter floating through the air. What you don’t always see is the behind-the-scenes hustle, the late-night planning, the endless spreadsheets, and the mini-heart attacks when something goes sideways.

As the host of もしもし Market, I’ve learned so much already, and trust me, the learning never stops. Here are 10 things I’ve picked up (so far) about becoming a vendor’s market host… plus one bonus lesson I think is the most important of all.

1. Some people don’t always read instructions (and that’s okay).

Like, at all [Hahaha]. You can spend hours carefully writing out vendor and attendees guidelines, bold it, highlight it, put glitter stickers around it, doesn’t matter. Someone will still DM you with the exact question that’s literally in the first line of the info sheet. Be prepared to repeat yourself… a lot. And then repeat again. And again. Basically, embrace your inner broken record.

This one shocked me at first. I carefully wrote out info sheets, FAQs, and step-by-step guides, thinking, “Perfect, everyone will be on the same page.” Nope! There will always be people who don’t read. You’ll get emails asking questions that are literally answered in bold in the first line of the instructions. And honestly? It’s not because people don’t care; it’s just human nature. We skim, we forget, we’re busy.

So the real skill here? Patience and repetition. You’re basically training to be a friendly parrot. Be prepared to copy-paste the same answer ten times, and then say it again in person on market day. Once I embraced this, I stopped stressing and just leaned into the repeat button energy.

Hosting means learning patience and remembering that clarity is kindness. You’re not just a host; you’re a guide and community leader.

2. You are never over-prepared.

I’m an overthinker by nature. I’ll lie awake at night worrying, “Do we have enough extension cords? What if someone needs tape? Did I remember to check the bathroom situation?” I make lists of lists. My Google Drive is basically one giant spiderweb of spreadsheets.

And yet… something always comes up. A vendor forgets a chair. A sign falls down. Several broken tables. The Wi-Fi disappears into thin air. It’s like Murphy’s Law lives rent-free in every event space.

Here’s the truth: preparation is good, but flexibility is gold. Over-prep all you want (it actually helps me feel calmer), but don’t be shocked when the universe throws a curveball. Roll with it, laugh it off, and know that part of the charm of markets is their unpredictability.

3. **The NYC venue rental market is bananas.**

Okay, this one I knew. I have a professional background in venue rentals, but still, wow. Finding a space in New York City that works for a vendor market and doesn’t destroy your budget? It’s like hunting for a rare Pokémon in the wild.

Spaces are either way too expensive (hello, Midtown hotel ballrooms charging the price of a luxury vacation), way too tiny (cute but barely fits five tables), or way too inconvenient (two-hour subway ride, anyone?). And because I don’t want to charge vendors insane fees, I have to be extra picky.

But when you finally land on that unicorn venue, affordable, accessible, and with good vibes, it’s like falling in love. You just know.

4. Running a market with a full-time job is… wild.

Let’s get real: I have a demanding 9-to-5. Which means my vendor market life happens in the cracks of time in between. I’ve typed out vendor replies during Zoom meetings (camera off, mic muted, trying to look very “focused”). I’ve scheduled Instagram posts while standing in line at a konbini. I’ve sketched floor layouts on the back of napkins while traveling for work, and let’s not talk about NYFW.

It’s exhausting, but also kind of exhilarating. My life feels like two worlds overlapping: by day, corporate worker bee; by night (and weekends), market boss. It’s a double life that only works if you’re okay with juggling, improvising, and, let’s be honest, living off caffeine, when you’re not even a coffee person?!!!.

5. Vendors are the heartbeat.

At the end of the day, the market isn’t about me; it’s about the vendors. They bring the energy, the color, the magic. Every single table is someone’s dream, someone’s late-night project, someone’s art. Walking through a market feels like walking through dozens of mini-universes all in one room.

Seeing vendors light up when people connect with their creations? That’s the fuel that keeps me going. Without them, it’s just an empty room with some music. With them, it’s alive.

6. Communication is survival.

My inbox is basically my second house at this point. Between DMs, vendor emails, group chats, and updates to attendees, it never ends. But communication is everything; if I slack, things fall apart fast.

I’ve learned to answer quickly (even if it’s just a “Got it, I’ll check on this!”), to send reminders more often than I think I need to, and to keep everything crystal clear. And yes, I’ve also learned the hard way to always double-check that attachments are actually attached.

7. Social media is your co-host.

Markets don’t exist unless people know about them. Promotion is more than posting one flyer; it’s constant reminders, hype-building, reels, TikToks, stories, memes, and countdowns. I’ve had to become my own marketing department, and honestly? Social media is half the job.

The trick is making it fun. Instead of feeling like “ugh, promo,” I try to treat it like I’m just inviting friends to a party. Because that’s what the market really is, a big, creative, slightly chaotic party.

8. Time moves at warp speed.

I swear, the closer you get to market day, the faster time moves. One moment you’re like, “Plenty of time left,” and suddenly it’s the night before and you’re wondering if you have enough wristbands. Market time is not normal time. It’s like an anime time skip; suddenly, we’re here.

My tip? Start earlier than you think you need to. Then double it. You’ll still feel rushed, but at least you’ll have more breathing room.

9. Details make the magic.

Markets aren’t just about shopping; they’re about the experience. The little things matter. Cute signage. Raffles that make people smile. A DIY photo corner where friends can take silly pics. A playlist that sets the vibe.

It’s these touches that transform a market from “just tables” to something memorable. And people notice. They’ll comment on how cute the signs were, or how fun it was to hang around. Those details? Worth every second.

10. Rest is non-negotiable. Saying that to myself!

After the market, I collapse. Like, not in a dramatic way [or maybe yes], I literally fall asleep mid-snack. My brain is fried, my body is done [to the point of my feet literally bleeding], and I basically turn into a hibernating bear.

Rest isn’t just nice, it’s necessary. If I don’t recharge, the burnout is real. Now I plan for the crash, build in recovery time, and let myself do absolutely nothing the day after. Trust me, you’ll thank yourself.

Bonus: You need a team.

This is the lesson I didn’t want to admit at first. I thought I could do it all. And technically, I could… but at what cost? Carrying tables, answering 100 texts, greeting vendors, fixing signs, it’s too much for one person.

Having a team changes everything. Whether it’s friends, volunteers, or one ride-or-die helper, they are lifesavers. They lift the heavy stuff (literally and emotionally), remind you to eat [several times], and cheer you on when you’re spiraling. Markets are about community, and your team is part of that.

Hosting a vendor’s market is chaos wrapped in joy. It’s stressful, messy, full of curveballs, but it’s also one of the most fulfilling things I’ve ever done. You get to create a space where vendors shine, communities gather, and people make memories.

So if you’ve ever thought about hosting one, do it. Just prepare for caffeine-fueled nights, lots of emails, and the occasional “Why did I sign up for this??” moment. And don’t forget: rest, breathe, and always have snacks on hand.

10 things I’ve picked up (so far) about becoming a vendor’s market host