No evidence to the contrary. My last post was eons ago, in fashion years, and of very little substance. How do you people do it? And by you people, I mean fashion bloggers or bloggers in general. Not that any sane human being, other than members of my immediate family (who happen to be quite sane), reads this so-called blog. But the question remains, “How is it done?”. Consistently. And well, I should add.
Blogging. I hate the word. It sounds so ugly and violent. Like “blogging” baby seals in the Arctic. That’s what it’s become, blogging, something I hate, something ugly and violent. I started this little project just after I graduated to give me something to do, to fill the void that was constant procrastination, anxiety and looming deadlines. I became obsessed with what I’d name the thing. My heart would palpitate erratically when it came time to publish content, or lack-there-of. I was persistently checking my “site stats”, instead of thinking of interesting, insightful topics to share with my “readers”. Ugh. I began to loathe it. It wasn’t enjoyable. So I did what I do best when faced with a stressful situation: nothing. Screw confronting one’s demons, I’d rather partake in an Ewan McGregor movie marathon.
Movie marathons aside, I did do a bit of research, read advice and looked to blogs I follow on the regular (read: semi-regular) for any hint for a magic formula. But it just didn’t seem like real life anymore. Or at least not my life. People posing for the camera like Karlie or Natalia, looking ever-so-very put together on the daily, closets filled to the brim with designer everything while not filing for bankruptcy, or Elgort- or Leibovitz-esque photos shot by their pro photographer boyfriends. It just wasn’t relatable anymore. I felt like I was forced to strive for something I was afraid I would never achieve, so I just gave up.
Funny thing. As soon as I called it quits, the ugly, dirty word called blogging would leopard crawl its way back into my head. My subconscious was subconsciously telling me that my words still mattered and that my opinions, though slightly prejudiced and overtly biased, are still to be heard. Not for the stats or the readership, but for little ol’ me. An avenue to share the things I love about personal style and fashion, and a haven to practice my writing.
So it’s settled. Enough is enough. The only way to move onwards and upwards is to start over. I’ve picked up about an ounce of wisdom and hope to apply it moving forward. How far it will take me, I don’t know. I’ll only know once I get there.
That last line was pretty lame, wasn’t it?
photo credit: David Fee