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The Story Behind GBFM I started the Great British Farmer Market (GBFM) because I’m fed up with what supermarkets and big platforms have done to the UK. The hypermarkets, convenience chains, and the race for margins have squeezed out corner shops, small producers, and the people who pour their lives into making good food and […]
I started the Great British Farmer Market (GBFM) because I’m fed up with what supermarkets and big platforms have done to the UK. The hypermarkets, convenience chains, and the race for margins have squeezed out corner shops, small producers, and the people who pour their lives into making good food and beautiful things. Somewhere along the way, customers stopped being neighbours and became “units of revenue”. That’s not the Britain I want to live in, so this is the start to the story behind GBFM.
COVID didn’t create the problem, but it put it on fast-forward. Prices up, choice down, and the same handful of giants deciding what ends up on our tables. If you’re a small maker or grower, where do you even start now? Etsy’s flooded with cheap imports, and our farmers can’t, and shouldn’t, compete with countries that cut corners on welfare and standards. The playing field isn’t level; it’s barely the same sport.
So GBFM is a pushback. So the story behind GBFM is a simple idea: if we work together and take only our fair share, we all win. I’ve always loved the quote, “Those crazy enough to believe they can change the world actually do.” I’m crazy enough to try to build a place where side gigs and small producers get a real shot, where customers know exactly who they’re supporting, and where money flows back to the people who made the thing, not just the people who made the rules.
The truth is, there’s no fair playing field anymore.
If you’re a small business trying to sell, you’re up against impossible odds. Platforms like Etsy started with good intentions, but are now swamped with cheap imports. Scroll through and you’ll see products shipped in bulk from abroad, undercutting UK makers who can’t compete on price, not because they’re greedy, but because they’re following the rules.
Farmers face it too. They’re bound by strict animal welfare and food standards, as they should be, while producers overseas cut corners and flood our shelves with cheaper goods. Customers who are strapped for cash don’t really have a choice: they buy the cheapest, and the cycle continues. That’s not their fault; it’s the system.
And above it all? Billionaires and conglomerates pulling the strings, rigging the rules so they win every time. They don’t see communities, makers, or farmers. They see cash cows to milk.
That’s the core problem GBFM is here to try to flip on its head. Not by asking people to lower their standards, but by raising the ones who’ve been pushed aside.
For me, the spark came from failure.
I’d already run a small crafting business once. Like so many others, I was wearing every hat: marketing, sales, making the products, finance, and customer service. And when I went looking for support, what I found wasn’t help, it was paywalls. The only advice or services on offer cost more than I could afford. I was running on fumes, trying to do everything, and then a few personal issues hit. That was the final straw; the business collapsed.
At first, I thought that was the end of my story. But the more I reflected, the more I realised it wasn’t failure, it was redirection. My calling wasn’t just in trying to keep my own small business alive. It was in building something bigger: a platform where other people wouldn’t have to go through the same struggle.
That’s when the idea for GBFM really took root. I knew I had the skills; my background in technical project management meant I could handle the systems, the logistics, the boring but vital details that make something like this work. And I had the drive.
GBFM is me putting that belief into practice. A marketplace built not for greed, but for fairness. A place where a side gig selling a few jars of jam is just as welcome as a farm feeding a village. Where no one has to fight alone.
GBFM isn’t just another online shop. It’s a different way of doing business. Every choice we’ve made has been about turning the usual model upside down.
At its heart, GBFM is about reconnecting people with people. Not buyer to brand, but neighbour to neighbour. Every jar of jam, every handmade quilt, every bunch of carrots has a story behind it. And those stories really matter.
Building GBFM hasn’t been smooth sailing. The biggest hurdle has been trust. After decades of being squeezed by corporations, people assume there’s always a catch. When I tell sellers that they keep 90%+ of every sale after VAT and don’t pay unless they actually sell something, the first reaction is often suspicion. “What’s the hidden fee?” But there isn’t one. And proving that I’m genuine, that this is about helping, not exploiting, takes time.
Then there’s the classic chicken-and-egg problem. Sellers want customers before they join. Customers want choice before they’ll shop. But someone has to be brave enough to start. The good news? We already have hundreds of potential customers visiting the site every week. They’re waiting for more sellers to leap.
The other challenge has been the usual start-up juggle: doing the research, listening to what small businesses actually need, and making sure GBFM’s technical foundation is solid enough to grow. My background in technical project management helps here, but it’s still a hell of a mountain to climb.
And yet every challenge is also a signpost. If trust is the barrier, then transparency becomes the solution. If chicken-and-egg is the issue, then community is the answer. Step by step, those hurdles become part of the mission.
The best sign that GBFM is on the right track has been the response from people I talk to. Every time I explain the idea, the reaction is the same: “That’s exactly what we need.” Whether it’s a farmer who feels locked out of supermarkets, a crafter tired of being lost in Etsy’s sea of imports, or a shopper who just wants to know their money is staying local, the message keeps hitting home.
And the numbers back it up. Even before the full seller base is in place, hundreds of potential customers are already coming to the site. They’re curious. They’re ready. They just need sellers to show up so they can buy.
That’s why early adopters matter so much. The first wave of sellers won’t just be making sales; they’ll be shaping something bigger than themselves. They’ll be the ones who prove to customers that a fairer marketplace is possible. And once that spark catches, the momentum builds on its own.
GBFM isn’t just my idea anymore. It’s becoming a shared mission. And that’s exactly how it’s meant to be.
I don’t see GBFM as just a marketplace. I see it as the start of something much, much bigger.
In the short term, the goal is simple: give sellers a fair platform and give customers real choice. But longer term? The vision is bold. I want GBFM to grow into a community-powered alternative to supermarkets, where the majority of your weekly shop can come directly from the people who made it.
I’d love to see us become a not-for-profit in the future, where any surplus goes back into supporting sellers, improving logistics, and building greener, fairer systems. Delivery hubs in towns and villages. Returnable packaging. Even physical markets supported by the online platform blend the best of both worlds.
And this isn’t just about one kind of seller. Whether you’re a side gig selling a few jars of chutney, a home grower with heritage tomatoes, or a business making amazing traditional Jamaican patties or Scottish shortbread, you’ve got a place here. GBFM is about celebrating the full diversity of what Britain makes, grows, and cooks, and helping it reach tables across the country.
The vision is simple but powerful: if we work together, we can make buying local as easy as buying from Amazon, but without losing our souls in the process.
At the end of the day, GBFM isn’t just about shopping. It’s about shifting the flow of money and power back into the hands of ordinary people.
Every time you buy from a supermarket, most of your money disappears into shareholder dividends and executive bonuses. Every time you buy from GBFM, the majority goes straight to the person who grew it, baked it, stitched it, or bottled it. That difference matters. It keeps local businesses alive. It keeps skills and traditions alive. It keeps communities alive.
This is bigger than food or crafts. It’s about proving that a fairer economy is possible. One where we’re not cash cows to be milked, but neighbours supporting neighbours. One where the rules aren’t rigged in favour of conglomerates, but written for people who just want a fair chance.
I believe change starts small. A jar of jam. A loaf of bread. A handmade blanket. Every purchase is a vote for the kind of world you want to live in. And if enough of us start voting with our wallets, we can change the system from the ground up.
That’s why GBFM matters. Because if we all work together, we can all win.
So here’s where you come in.
If you’re a customer, the power is already in your hands. Next time you need something: food, gifts, treats, or everyday essentials, please consider and choose GBFM. Every pound you spend here supports a real person, not a faceless corporation. It’s your chance to shop in a way that’s good for you, good for your community, and good for the future of Britain.
If you’re a seller, whether you’ve got a side gig, a family farm, or a growing business, GBFM is here to back you. You don’t need to fight algorithms, pay endless fees, or compete with bulk imports. You just need to show up with your craft, your produce, or your ideas. We’ll handle the marketing and the platform so you can focus on what you do best.
This isn’t just a marketplace. It’s a movement. And movements only grow when people take part.
So, join us. As a shopper. As a seller. As part of something bigger. Because together, we can build the fairer future we all deserve.
