How I price a mascotHow I price a mascot

People email me with one line: “How much for a mascot?” It’s a fair question, and I used to dread it, because the honest answer is “it depends”, and nobody has ever felt better after hearing that.

So I stopped answering it with a number. I answer it with three numbers instead. Each one prices a different part of the job, and once a client sees them side by side, the conversation gets much easier for both of us.

Number one: the drawing

The first number is the design itself. This is the part everyone imagines: me, a pencil and a lot of tiny faces. It covers the research, the thumbnails, two rounds of sketches, the final character, a turnaround from five angles and a sheet of expressions.

I price this as a fixed fee for a fixed scope. Two rounds of changes are included, because two rounds is what good work needs. A third round is possible, and it has its own price, which I put in writing before we start. Nobody is surprised later, including me.

What I don’t do is shave this number to win the job. The drawing is the foundation. A cheap foundation is how you end up with a mascot that looks fine on the website and strange on a mug.

Number two: the life

The second number is about where the character will live, and for how long. A mascot that sits in the corner of one website is a different thing from one that goes on packaging, posters, plush toys and the side of a van.

This is the usage fee, and it’s the number clients most often haven’t thought about. I ask four questions. Where will it appear? In which countries? For how many years? And does anyone else get to use it? The answers move the price more than the drawing does.

a mascot is an employee that never sleeps, never asks for a raise and works every shelf in the country. price it like one.

I offer three simple tiers rather than a custom sum every time. Small is one brand, online and in the shop, for three years. Medium adds packaging and print. Large is everything, everywhere, for as long as they like, and it costs what “everything” is worth.

Number three: the motion

Most mascots move eventually, so I price that separately too. A character that waves on a homepage needs a rig: the drawing cut into parts that can bend, blink and squash without falling apart. Building that properly takes days, and it’s what makes every later animation quicker and cheaper.

After the rig, I price animation by the loop, not by the hour. A wave, a nod, a jump, an idle breath. Each loop has a clear price and a clear length, and clients can add more later without opening a new negotiation.

Exclusivity, briefly

One question changes the second number more than any other: can I show it, and can I make something like it for someone else?

Showing it is almost always a yes. A mascot is a public character; it lives on boxes. I ask to show it in my portfolio once it launches, and nobody has said no yet.

Making something like it is a different matter. A client who pays for a character wants to know a competitor won’t turn up next year with its cousin. So exclusivity is built into the large tier, and I’m happy to add it to the others. It costs a little more, because it closes a door for me, and that’s worth saying out loud.

The awkward conversation

Then comes the bit nobody teaches you: saying the numbers out loud.

I send the three numbers in writing first, so nobody has to do maths on a call. Then we talk. I say the total, and then I stop talking. The silence after a price feels endless. It’s usually about four seconds. Whoever fills it first tends to lower the price, and I’ve learned that it shouldn’t be me.

If the total is too high, we change the scope, not the rate. Fewer expressions. A smaller usage tier. One loop instead of three. The job gets smaller; it doesn’t get cheaper per piece. That keeps the price honest for the next client too.

Why never by the hour

Hourly pricing punishes getting good. The first mascot I ever drew took me three weeks. The last one took four days, and it was better. If I charged by the hour, twelve years of practice would have made me poorer.

Clients don’t really like hourly quotes either, even when they ask for them. An hourly rate is a number with no ceiling, and nobody can plan a budget around a number with no ceiling. A fixed price for a clear scope is kinder to everyone.

Twelve faces for one character. Three made it.

What goes on the quote

Every mascot quote I send has the same five lines:

1. The drawing: what’s included, and the two rounds of changes.

2. The life: the usage tier, the places and the years.

3. The motion: the rig, then the price of each loop.

4. The timeline, with the dates I need feedback by.

5. What happens if we stop halfway, so nobody has to ask.

That’s it. Three numbers, one awkward conversation and a quote that reads the same to me as it does to the client. The bakery took the medium tier, two loops and a discount for croissants. That last part is not a policy.