The Little 2×2 Table That Started It All
Chelsea Anne De Leon
Every time I look back at photos from our very first pop-up, I can't help but smile.
Not because the booth was extravagant.
It wasn't.
Not because we had dozens of journals.
We definitely didn't.
I smile because none of us had any idea what was about to begin.
October 2024.
Telapapel had only been officially around for about a month.
A month.
Looking back now, I can't believe I thought,
"Yep. Let's join a pop-up."
Maybe I was brave.
Maybe I was just blissfully unaware of what I was getting myself into.
Either way...
I'm so glad we did.
Our entire booth fit on a tiny little 2×2-foot table.
The funny part?
The table actually felt bigger than the number of journals I had to display.
Fast forward to today, and there are times when even a six-foot table somehow isn't enough.
How did that even happen?
Sometimes I still catch myself staring at our newer booths and thinking...
We've really grown, haven't we?
And now, almost two years later, Telapapel finally has a website.
A place that feels like home.
Not just for our journals.
But for every little story we've collected along the way.
Back then, nobody really knew who we were.
Honestly, I didn't expect much.
I treated the whole event as an opportunity to learn.
To observe.
To see if this little idea of mine could exist outside my workshop.
I didn't know which events suited Telapapel.
I didn't know what kind of community we belonged to.
I didn't even know how people found these pop-ups in the first place.
I was simply showing up.
Now things are different.
We've learned which events feel like home.
We've discovered the communities that genuinely connect with our work.
And little by little, we've started aiming for bigger spaces and larger events.
But every bit of that started here.
With one tiny table.
One unexpected gift of having such a quiet first event?
We had plenty of time to take photos.
Videos.
Little memories.
Or... so I thought.
When I looked through my files recently, I realized so many of them had somehow disappeared.
I have no idea where they went.
It's honestly a little heartbreaking.
The videos are gone.
Most of the photos too.
What's left are just a handful of pictures.
A few snapshots by the road.
A few in the park.
Tiny pieces of a weekend that deserved far more documentation.
Maybe that's just how first memories are sometimes.
A little blurry.
A little incomplete.
But still unforgettable.
One of my favorite memories from that weekend wasn't actually about the booth.
It was meeting Quincy from @y.o.h.plus.
She was still a business student back then, somehow balancing school while running her own little creative business.
I honestly don't know how she did it.
Because I've tried crocheting before.
Let's just say...
The hobby itself politely declined me.
Quincy creates the sweetest little crocheted animals called Pudgies.
Each one has its own personality, and somehow they all feel wonderfully alive.
The moment I met Matilda the Bear, I laughed.
It was almost like Quincy had somehow crocheted my personality into a tiny bear without even knowing me.
Months later, life surprised us again.
Quincy would eventually become the person behind our own Pudgie Bookmarks.
Funny how the people you meet during your first pop-up sometimes become part of your story long after the event ends.
Of course, the biggest highlight wasn't the booth.
It wasn't the journals.
It wasn't even the weather.
It was my people.
So many of my family and friends came just to support this tiny little dream.
Some stayed.
Some visited for a while.
Some simply showed up because they wanted me to know they believed in what I was building.
I don't think I've ever properly thanked them for that.
Starting something new can be scary.
Having people quietly cheering you on makes it a little less frightening.
I love them all to bits.
Do you know what's funny?
I don't even remember if we made any sales.
Seriously.
Maybe we did.
Maybe we didn't.
Somehow that's become one of the least important parts of the memory.
What I remember is packing up that little booth at the end of the weekend knowing one thing for certain.
I wanted to do this again.
And again.
And again.
Because somewhere between the rain, the tiny table, the missing photos, and all the conversations...
Something clicked.
This was where Telapapel wanted to be.
Looking back now, it wasn't just our first pop-up.
It was the beginning of every booth that came after.
Every larger table.
Every new collection.
Every artist we've met.
Every customer who's become a friend.
Every journal that's found a new home.
Sometimes the biggest journeys don't begin with a grand opening.
Sometimes...
They begin with a tiny little 2×2 table.
And I wouldn't change a thing. 🤍
