Instagram Intagram, how I love thee, let me count the ways. Ditto, how I hate thee. Let me count those too. To be honest, to be brutal, and to be fair, I haven't actually been on IG for a whole year yet, so this is technically an 'InstaEightMonths'. Annnnd, even more technically and brutally, these are actually, *GASP* unpublished IGs. Ones that dint make the cut. Why didn't they? Various reasons really.
Let Me Take A Selfie (Not)
1. Posting selfies freaks me out. And it would probably freak out those who had to look at my face too. And as you can see, I'm not cool. I just look like a fucking geek.
Me & Flatlays We Got Issues
2. Flatlays sometimes don't fit in the freaking IG square do they? Why I don't I get an app thingy that resizes everything so they fit in? Coz...er...I've forgotten my password. I put £20 of credit on my iPad, then went and forgot everything. Gun Emoji.
Fat Feet
3. Feet can look rubbish can't they? Look at my swollen duck foot there not sliding into an Adilette. Bleugh.
Sock It To Me
4. Socks are great. But somehow every picture I took this year con sock and slide, or con sock and sneak looked toats (this is how my sis spells totes and I'm a convert) dumb. Again, a severe case of me trying to be cool and massively failing.
Apple Problems
5. iPhones and iPads take rubbish kwality piccies don't they? Like, shit. I mean, I dunno about a 6 or a 6s or whatever they're called, but all I can get on mine is blur. Unless the sunlight is double bright. Which is rare in this here Blightly of ours. So I've got into the very time-consuming habit of taking my IGs with my Nikon. You're right. Life is too short.
Lace
6. Broderie Bombs. I like Broderie Anglais. Scratch that, I freaking love it. But when I posted this pic of me propping up a wall wearing this darling lace top, nobody dug on it. Sadface. So I deleted. Taylor Swiftly.
Boat Race
7. Oh yeah. There's my face again. Let's move on.
So there we have it, a slightly abbreviated (unseen) InstaYear. How's your year been on IG?
Tell all :) xx