Why Social Media Isn't Ruining My Life

I recently read an interview with Sam Smith in The Sunday Times, where he said that Instagram made him feel shit. Yes, that Sam Smith. Voice of an angel Sam Smith. Multi-award winning Sam Smith. It got me thinking (in true Carrie Bradshaw style), that if someone who basically lives the dream believes that, then what hope is there for mere civilians? It also made me think about the endless stream of whining from all corners of society about how detrimental scrolling and tweeting and even just merely watching is. So I decided to ask myself 'Is social media ruining my life?', and the only answer that I could come up with was a very resounding 'no'.

Firstly, I should confess to not being on Twitter, so that particular avenue of potential ruination isn't open to me. I only lightly dabble in Pinterest- which I actually find remarkably soothing- although admittedly I have no clue what I'm actually doing on there; and I gave up on Snapchat a long time ago (didn't everyone? Soz Evan). So Instagram is the only bit of S-Med available to me to make me feel as bad as Sam.

Now don't get me wrong. I think the Big Dogs at Facebook HQ are appalling, money-grabbing, irresponsible, manipulative bastards (although I think we can all agree that Eva Chen is lovely).

But does Instagram inherently make me feel shit? NOT.AT.ALL.

Here's for why:- 1) FOMO doesn't bother me one teeny bit. I actively enjoy sitting on my sofa in an old t-shirt and Topshop leggings, enjoying watching beautiful, skinny people hang out on yachts all Summer long precisely because I'm not them. They were born to enjoy that life to the max, I was not.

2) Girls having the best bags and shoes and walk in wardrobes doesn't ruffle my feathers either. They have the money and a severe lack of guilt about treating themselves; I have not much of the former and plenty of the latter. Do I want a Dior Saddlebag and some Acne Manhattans? I sure do. Am I gonna hate on all the gals that have those things just coz I don't? Definitely not. That would be silly. 

I have a friend who is a very well-known journalist. She's interviewed everyone, and partied with proper A-Listers, yet she tells me how happy she is to get home and watch Eastenders whilst eating digestives. The key, it would seem, is keeping a perspective on things.

3) Seeing bloggers on the FROW of shows, doesn't that bug me just a weeny bit? Nah, not that either. I'm actually delighted I'm not there, and even more delighted that I get to see everything via those girls. Instagram actually enhances my life in this instance. I love being digitally transported to events and shows and presentations and getting an amazing view of next season's offerings.

4) Aren't my eyes going squiggly and my brain going to mush from all that screen time? Actually, I don't think they are. I spend vast amounts of time looking at my phone, but I also spend vast amounts of time not looking at it either. I love reading (proper old skool tangible things like books and magazines and newspapers- say whattttt- that you can actually hold and turn the pages of). My idea of heaven is sitting on a hammock, somewhere quiet just reading reading and reading summore. It only takes about twenty minutes to catch up on eight hours of missed scrolling on IG. Just sayin'.

5) Don't I feel depressed at having lots of online friendships that don't spill over into RL? Well, some actually have translated into real life which is amazing. And some haven't. That's fine too. I really love having made friends around the world via Instagram. That is decidedly not my definition of a life ruined but a life enhanced, enriched and for that, I guess I better thank the Big Dogs.

SHOP THE LOOK

Jacket- H&M // Similar- Here

Jeans- Topshop Boutique // Similar- Here

Bag- My Mum's // Similar- Here

Fear And Self Loathing In Blogging

About three weeks ago I very excitedly bought myself some flares. My good buddy MissionStyle tipped me off to them and when I tried on in-store I thought 'praise the freakin' lord, job done'. I deffo felt they contained my flab, were the right length and had a decent comfort factor. Tick, tick, tick. Then I shot them. And errrrrything changed. These two meagre frames were the only ones I could salvage from that disastrous SS Titanic of a shoot. And even then- let's be honest- I look horrific. Having to bin a set of a pictures is priddy heartbreaking, and I've gotta confess- the whole débacle made me wanna quit blogging (and not for the first time). I guess we've all been there. You kinda feel 'why am I bothering?', 'why am I so fat?' and 'why does every shoot I do not remotely turn out like I hoped it would?' But I thought I'd disclose these lame-ass shots anyway in order to delve a little more into the wretched thought patterns that whirl round the mind of a fashion blogger, and see if there's owt to draw from them.

Comparison Anxiety

I recently saw an interesting piece in Grazia about a girl who had to get therapy for her instagram 'problems'. Seriously though. She was literally driving herself insane with thoughts that all her friends were leading amaaazing lives and she wasn't. This is basically where logic leaves you and paranoia sets in. It's at times like this I like to revisit a bit of Susan Sontag. If you haven't read her, get on it.

The Girl Can't Help It

There's no getting away from it- I'm short and fat. Whilst my logical mind knows this, I still seem to harbour a very weird misguided notion that when I shoot a look somewhere along the way I will magically turn into Chiara F, Camille C or Gala G. As a blogger you are constantly faced with images of yourself and your physical shortcomings, which is unfortunately where ever decreasing circles of negativity start to fester. 

Style Blackouts

I got it realllly wrong with this outfit. So so wrong. The mirror told me one thing, the camera lens another. I should've worn a shirt and a heel. Probably. And as usual my insistence on wearing a hat didn't help matters either. I used to wear flares allllll the time about five years ago. I remember wrestling a girl in Liberty to the ground for the last pair of 18th Amendment jeans (yes, them!) in a Size 25 and absolutely luvin' them. And I also recall going to Westfield (in Shepherd's Bush) the first weekend it opened wearing a Topshop pair and trotting into Donna Ida only to have the shop assistant declare undying love for my denim. (You know you're doing something right when a girl that works with £200 + jeans all day every day likes your thirty quid jobs). But I guess I was thinner then. 

Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

I have to admit I hate shooting, I hate looking at pictures of myself and I hate competing. Which makes it ermmm, quite tricky to be a blogger. But I love clothes. I love them in a way I can't even express, and despite having a face like a bag of spanners and a body like a pre-gastric band patient I don't think I can jump off this kerrrrrazy rollercoaster just yet. Catch you soon (hopefully) xx 

PS Don't hate the flares, hate the player

Skinny Rib- Topshop//Jeans- Topshop

Bomber- Topshop//Fedora- Catarzi//Boots- Gap

The It Knit

You've doubtless seen this skinny knit all over the blogosphere recently, and with good reason. It is the dopest, bestest, sickest jumper of the season. (So far that is. Zara are too insanely good at knitwear and I'm sure they've got a lot more incred pieces for us to come yet). The ideal thing to wear with it is the matchy-matchy pants for that full-on Céline look- which, I have to confess, I have bought too :) I didn't shoot them here though as it was wayyyy too hot, and I also wanted to give my newish jeans a bit of a run-out. These beauts are a dupe of the Made In Heaven Phoebe, which I've always wanted but could never afford. So, thanks Topshop (as per). Unfortunately, the knit is sooo skinny that it clings to every roll of fat that's being pushed out the top of the aforementioned newish jeans, so soz for making you witness that. I also have to apologize for the plethora of crossed-arm shots in this shoot. I totally wore the wrong bra, so them fings were dragging on the ground like a neanderthal man's knuckles. Next time I will be a triumph of support, Spanx and matchy-matchyness. Catch you soon xx

Skinny Knit- Zara//Jeans- Topshop

Sneaks- Adidas//Hat- Catarzi//Sunnies- Other Stories

Girls And Boys

I'm still not actually sure what the whole concept of a 'girlfriend' jean is, but when they landed in Topshop a while back I duly trotted along to the changing room clutching a pair and gave them a whirl. Firstly I tried to squish myself into a pair of Size 26s. With a 30 leg. That was top comedy for a start-off. Mostly coz I couldn't get them done up. There is a zero-stretch situation going on here (unlike Jamies and Leighs in which I normally take a 25). Ok, deep breaths, 'you're not actually fat' I told myself (funny how I looked in the mirror and saw Pinocchio staring back at me); as I went for Round 2 with a Size 28. They also had a 30 leg and similarly looked ridick. I thought 'fuck this for a game of soldiers' and wandered off for a Diet Coke and a quick cry. But last week I spied on Toppers website that a new jean style had dropped, namely, the Lucas. I thought they looked priddy damned hot, so I went for another trying-on sesh. Now the Lucas is billed as a 'slim boyfriend' (thanks, I'll take two), but whaddya know- on me they are, basically, skinny. Nice jean an' that, but you've deffo gotta be a lean bitch to get the requisite 'bag'. But, I also took into the changing room with me another girlfriend jean, this time in a 'black wash' finish, Size 28 with a 32 leg. And...we have a winner. I realllly like them. I get them! I'm super-happy! And hopefully now I can stop lusting after some Acne Pop Boyfriends. Long boring story over, catch you soon :) x

Sweatshirt- Topshop//Jeans- Topshop

Hat- Catarzi//Sunnies- ASOS

Heels- Primark//Bag- Gucci

Kinda Shady

When I bought this hat last Saturday I was instantly thrown into a styling meltdown. Do you ever start to try and construct a mental lookbook in your head the minute you haul something new? That 'Ooooh, I love what I just bought' seretonin buzz in my brain no doubt contributes to the gormless look I have on my face most of the time when shopping. Well, that's my excuse :) By the time I'd wandered from Oxford Street over to Pret on Cavendish Square to grab a Diet Coke *Standard Face* I'd decided to style-up an all grey outfit to go with my new purchase. This is how it turned out :) I can only apologise for my creased jumper and the general feeling that you've seen all these pieces before (you have). Catch you soon chicas xx 

PS Major LOLZ at The Wanted splitting up. #Directioner #Hardcore #MidnightMemories #TrySlaggingLouisNow

Coat- H&M//Jumper- Gap

Jeans- Topshop//Boots- Zara

Hat- H&M//Sunnies- Topshop