As a long-time creator, Nichole Sullivan lives by the saying, “Why buy what you can make?”

Sullivan, 52, grew up in Northeast Baltimore watching her grandmother tailor clothes and bake cakes from scratch. As a parent, she made accessories for her daughters by hand. In her professional life, Sullivan worked on customizing software for banks as a project manager.

She always had creative outlets, but when Sullivan was ready for a change in 2019, she opened Keppel & Kismet, her small business that sells handcrafted items and gifts, and teaches others how to be makers.

“I always say my creative skills came out of a seed that was planted, but then necessity is what helped it bloom,” Sullivan said.

She has made custom signage for Made In Baltimore, planter boxes for Smalltimore Homes and engraved reusable water bottles. Her handmade gifts, like ornaments, earrings and cheese boards, are available at her new Waltherson neighborhood storefront, in stores and seasonal holiday markets across Baltimore.

As her business grows, Sullivan said she hopes people come in and make the things they always wanted.

“I want to help people with the creative outlet,” she said. “That’s all I want to do.”

What was the inspiration for starting a business?

Nichole Sullivan: I worked in the financial sector my entire career as a project manager for a couple of large banks, and I did that for 20 years. In my job, we developed things from scratch or took the shell software and modified it for our purposes. In software, you have to imagine what it’s going to be used for and then you create going backward.

To relieve stress, I would create — baking and making all the things. I always did creative stuff for my home and family. And people always said, “Nicole, you should turn this into a business.” I was like, “I don’t want to be an entrepreneur. I need somebody to pay my salary and give me vacation.”

Then one day I said, “I can’t do this anymore.” It was at the point where my middle daughter was a teenager and I didn’t have bandwidth for people at work, too. I was really coming undone. I had already been talking to my husband about starting a business, but I didn’t know what it would be. Maybe I would sell stickers? I’m not sure, but I just knew it would be something creative.

I got the business off the ground in a year. I opened a creative workshop where people would come in and make stuff. I taught classes like low-level woodworking, painting and basic skills, like how to use a hand drill and a power drill so women — who are my target customers — would have confidence in using these tools.

You’re currently in the second iteration of your business. Can you tell me more about where things are?

We originally opened in Towson the Saturday before Thanksgiving in 2019, and then COVID hit in March, and we closed. We tried to ride it out, but we had to keep paying rent. My landlord didn’t abate my rent or anything.

I closed the business and focused my attention on continuing to use the equipment and materials I had already paid for to make stuff to sell at markets. I found the plans to build tables, shelves, brackets and displays. I had the plans and the tools, brought in the materials, signed up volunteers to come in, told them what to do, and built everything.

So now we had to find a way to get customers, since I didn’t have the workshop space anymore. I was out at markets and events, trying to get products in retail stores. It was great, but it wasn’t generating enough revenue.

One year I had like $40,000 in revenue and I was like, “Who’s buying stuff from me?” I realized it was mostly businesses, and so most of my revenue was coming from B2B corporate gifting. Well then, we’re a corporate gifting company. So, I dropped creative workshop from the name. But in the new space, we’ll reintroduce workshops.

Where does the name Keppel & Kismet come from?

I wanted a creative name that spoke about me, the business and the story. How do we sum up this business without saying exactly what it is?

A friend of mine, who is a creative writer, volunteered to help me come up with a name. Initially, she suggested The Craft Menagerie, and I was like, no, I don’t want craft in the name. Because when people hear craft, they think cheap DIY.

I said I wanted some representation of me, which happened to also work into the brand color palette and the journey of this business and how doors kept opening for us. I’m a Christian, and I would say there was a lot of divine intervention happening, but how do we say that in a word?

I also imagined it would have a butterfly, because we take things from nothing to something, or we reimagine things, like a metamorphosis.

She was like, okay, we can do two K’s and bump them up against one another.

She researched my favorite color, and the Pantone color name for it was Keppel. When we talked about the serendipitous nature of how things were coming together for me, the other K-word was kismet. (Kismet is defined as destiny or fate.) And that’s how Keppel & Kismet came to be.

What do you hope the future holds for you and the business?

In three years, five tops, I would love to buy the building. There’s a second level to the building we’re in that’s perfect for incubating other creative businesses. It would give me an opportunity to help other small businesses.

Number two, we would have a warehouse space where we could store materials that makers could use. Folks are getting material from Home Depot and other companies outside of Baltimore. I’m like, “We do this.” We buy wood sheets, and we cut them down for our own projects. That’s how we keep our material costs down. We can certainly do this for other people, but we don’t have the space. It would be a great next step to be a supplier.

In Baltimore, there are so many organizations doing good work to help people start and grow their businesses, and I really just have a heart for that. I would love to be able to do it.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.