So, I need to get something off my chest. It's a blogging gripe- stay with me kids- that has seeped into Instagram- seemingly on the daily. Even if you're an observer and not a creator (*pompous word alert) you can't fail to have noticed it too. What am I banging on about? Let's cut to the chase here- the thing that is pissing me off is that.....bloggers will not stop asking questions. Now, admittedly this may sound very minor on the general life scale of global warming, terrorism, rising knife crime and the surreal alarmingness of an abnormally dumb orange person running America; but if you are dipping your toe into IG on the regular it may well be bothering the hell out of you too. Essentially, the questions DO.NOT.STOP.COMING. 'What would you like to see?' is the most frequent one (and many variants thereof). And it enrages me. Market research (for that is what it is) is fundamentally the enemy of creativity. I used to work at a glossy fashion magazine- and yes- it was almost exactly like The Devil Wears Prada. (But much much worse). We were constantly indoctrinated with weird maxims to try and make our output more 'suitable'. And one of these has always stuck with me, namely- never ever give the public what they want- give them what they didn't know they wanted. I still totally believe in that premise. Do you think that Alessandro Michele sits around the Gucci office going 'Ok, let's ask a sample group of five thousand customers whether they want a blue printed loafer with pineapples all over it next season, or a pink one with cherries?'. No he does not. He goes with what he feels. He lets his imagination flow. Run wild. Which is why Kering's profits (Gucci's parent company) were up 120% in 2017 and Gucci's sales alone were worth six billion euros. (Hey Google, how you doin').
Now, I totally understand why a YouTuber might wanna know what their audience would be more interested in seeing- a haul or vlog let's say- (although, I think even the cat's mother knows that Zara hauls smash it out the park every time) because, well, it's bloody annoying putting blood, sweat and tears into a video that no-one watches. I get it. But chasing views (or likes on The Gram) is a reductive business. A nice hashtag has popped on IG recently- #postwhatyoulove- and I'm down with that. Not everything can be targeted, and researched and perfectly tailored to appeal to your 'audience'. Literally, stop the insanity. Throw in a curve ball, have the courage of your creative convictions and for the love of God and all that is holy- please stop asking me questions. My brain is over fried with fashion images, new-ins and well, life just generally. I've got nothing for you. Go and pump some poor other bugger for ideas. Actually, don't do that either. Just go with what you feel. It works for Alessandro.
I do some errands this morning- top of the list being to get some new passport pics. The photo booth machine barks out orders at me and I'm convinced the whole post office can hear. Not sure why I find it mortifying but I do. I've been meaning to try out a smoothie at a new health cafe near me, but when I find the place- it's messy and dirty and the girl serving spends five minutes speaking French to two customers before getting to me. I was gonna flounce out (#dramaqueen) but it's boiling hot and I'm desperate for a drink. It's totally not worth it and it leaks all over my slides. I buy an Evian to get rid of the taste and on my way home some builders call out at me- 'Hello Bitch, can I have some water?' I seriously want to respond with some witheringly witty reposte, but decide it's actually better not to say anything. I slink home feeling gutted I'm not more like Dorothy Parker.
Tuesday July 3rd
Doctor- £288
Two Realisation Par Dresses- £370
Two Rebel Mylks- £2.70
Two newspapers & Two Magazines- £7
One Good Life Eatery Smoothie- £6
I have a very early start today at the endocrinologist. My sister drops me off on Harley Street en route to her office, and although the doctor is lovely and thorough and understanding I'm just not sure I'm getting anywhere. I leave feeling devo to have spent £288, especially as the Realisation Par pop-up has just popped-up at Selfridges. It's manic AF when I get there and I just start wildly grabbing at anything in Size Extra Small and Size Small. Turns out I was a bit optimistic on the Extra Small front. There are lots of skinny gorgeous girls trying stuff on and I feel fat and old and like I should be doing something a bit more constructive (and a bit less expensive). I chat to an Aussie girl at the checkout, who I'm fairly convinced is Teale Talbot. (I later find out she isn't). Her style is beyond on point though (she's layered a tee under her dress to spectacular effect) and I feel (again) like the ugliest uncoolest girl alive. I leave with two dresses. How have I actually spent over £600 in an hour? I want to cry but I turn to my drug of choice instead- a Good Life Eatery smoothie. They are six quid and I try to limit myself to one a week as a treat but that rarely goes to plan.
Wednesday July 4th
Two newspapers £3.20
1 Rebel Mylk £1.70
1 packet of Goldenberries £2.20
1 bottle of Creed £185
I feel so guilty about yesterday that I decide to take some bits back to Topshop and H&M (£80 and £36 respectively). That would all be well and good if I didn't have to buy a birthday present. I decide on a bottle of Creed. Big mistake, HUGE. It's a hundred and eighty five quid. For the small size. One hundred and eighty five fucking quid. But it literally smells of rich people (as well it might) which I find hilarious and bizarrely intoxicating so I decide to go with it.
SHOP THE LOOK
Thursday July 5th
Two Newspapers £3.20
One Copy of Vogue & One Copy of Elle £6
One bottle of Windolene £1
Thank God I manage to not spend much today. My mum's obsessed with Windolene (LOL) and I see a big bottle on offer for one pound so I grab it for her.
Friday July 6th
Two Newspapers £3.20
Ok Magazine £2
Two Rebel Mylks £3.40
Two packs of Organic Beetroot £2.10
Jordans Organic Oats £2.09
One Carton Organic Oat Milk £1.55
One Organic Cucumber £1.35
One Organic Romaine Lettuce £1.26
Twelve Organic Eggs £4.59
One Bottle Raw Organic Apple Cyder Vinegar £2.60
I do my weekly food shop today. Every time I tell myself 'You can't really afford to shop in Waitrose any more', and then I head straight to Waitrose. I wouldn't actually even know where an Aldi or a Lidl are. Well, that's my excuse. Plus, I only really like Duchy products. (Yes, I do realise how ridiculous that sounds). Luckily, I don't have a huge appetite, and actually one bag of Organic Brown Rice (at £2) can last me ten meals or more. (Just a quick rice tip while we're here- you should soak and rinse your rice well to get rid of the phytates and the arsenic- just sayin'). I'm still reeling from having spent so much this week, so I'm pleased I have a good supply of food staples at home- a large bag of Organic Quinoa and a few loaves of Organic Rice Bread which I buy from a specialist bakery and then slice and freeze. Nowt like planning ahead r kid.
Saturday July 7th
Hair Colour £48
One Good Life Smoothie £6
Two bottles of Organic Coconut Kefir £8
I've had my regular hair appointment booked for six weeks now but it's the day of England v Sweden. I considered cancelling but then I figured they'd probably have the match on the big screen there. They don't. (WTF). So I watch the first half on my phone with all the junior stylists peeking over my shoulder. I sip on Coconut Kefir whilst watching (it's unreal, you need to try) and then leave with wet hair during half time and drive like a bat out of hell to watch the second half with the fam. I just make it and incredibly we win.
Sunday July 8th
H&M Order £76
One Good Life Smoothie £6
It's another scorching hot day and I wear one of my Realisation dresses. It's beyond comfortable as it's silk and it basically feels like I'm wearing nothing at all. Me and Mum go for lunch (Mum pays-two salads and sparkling water) and then we do a bit of shopping for her. She's got a party coming up and wants a new outfit. We do J Crew, Sandro and then end up in Whistles. Mum goes for two floral tops as options and while I wait one of the assistants asks about my dress. She tells me she likes it and we chat generally about the Realisation frenzy. She's stunning looking and once again I feel devastated to be so short and ugly and so inhibited about the way I look (oh the irony). And yet again I end up self medicating with a Good Life Smoothie. I finish the day with an H&M order (I use an H&M Club voucher for ten quid off. Normally I buzz off any discounts I get but I've overspent so horrifically this week it seems irrelevant somehow). I thank my lucky stars I've had no bills this week and vow to rein it in over the next few days. (Did you just hear Cher Horowitz loudly proclaim 'As If'?).
If it's one thing I never thought I'd be wearing it's white shorts. I haven't ever felt thin enough to venture into such- shall we say- 'Hey Look At Me!' territory before; but this year I've lost some weight and I'm going for it. (Not to say you have to be 'thin' to wear anything you god damn want to- and what even is thin anyway? I'm guessing everyone has a different definition). I picked up these shorts in Topshop with low expectations (mostly coz of the aforementioned), but when I got them home and tried them on I was pleasantly surprised. I've teamed them here with a simple men's black shirt (I prefer the fit) to counter balance the 'high exposure' factor. Would you wear short shorts? Let me know x
They say it's all in the details, and in this case they're not wrong. Allow me to introduce you to my latest obsession....hair clips. They might seem insignificant, maybe even just a touch twee, but I've fallen hard for them lately. (It's literally me and hair clips sitting in a tree RN). The doyenne of this particular accessory is the incredible French jewellery designer Charlotte Chesnais. Her beautiful egg-shaped slide is top of my wishlist ATM, but all her work is dreamy AF. Gucci have dropped their own cult crystal-embellished clip, but if your budget doesn't stretch then Mango have got some nice ones, as do Accessorize (they're the ones I'm wearing here). Are you sliding into this micro-trend? Let me know x
There's probably nothing quite as tempting as the prospect of reading someone else's diary is there? So in honour of nosey parkers everywhere (Confession: I'm very much one) here's a day in my life.
7am
The struggle is very very real for me to get up. I am most definitely not a morning person. My brain needs time to wake up, and so does my body. The very first thing I do is charge my phone, and my two (count 'em) iPads. I then dive straight into brekkie. I actually have the same thing everyday coz a) I'm dull like that, b) I'm obsessed with it and c) appaz everyone does it. So what is my breakfast of choice? A bowl of organic oats, some organic oat milk and a mug of organic decaf black tea. I like to read the T2 section of The Times while I'm eating, and not hurry. (I'm trying to make myself eat more slowly at the moment).
8am
I try and catch the news headlines on tv (generally the BBC for me), and have a glance at the Daily Mail's sidebar of shame. I'm totally addicted to the comments on there (anyone else?), and then I tackle Instagram. I go through the whole overnight feed and reply to any DMs. I also check emails (real life ones, not blogger ones) and then start to get ready.
9am
My outfit is the easiest part of getting ready for me, but my hair and make-up take foreverrrrr. Wash and go I am not (sadly). Having a combination of bad skin and crazy frizzy hair means that my work is cut out. I usually pop in a tooth whitening strip while I'm putting on my face, and also use the time to try and get my mind ready for the day ahead.
10am
I have a ritual of doing errands at around this time, and I combine it with walking as much as I can. Once I've done my post office/supermarket/smoothie stop-offs then I can settle down to work. I write all morning, (in my other guise as a journalist), so everything bloggerish has to wait until lunch.
SHOP THE LOOK
1pm
Then I start shooting pics through lunch. I always feel like the clock is against me, and I'm constantly frustrated by so many factors- that I have no-one to shoot my images for me, that I have a very basic camera, an old phone (that hits storage on the daily) and an even older face. But I just adore clothes, and I'm constantly excited by the thought of new outfits, new hauls and the possibility that maybe, just maybe, I might be able to come up with a cool(ish) photo now and again. So I keep coming back for more. (This lack of logic puts me in mind me of the old joke- a woman goes to the doctor and says 'Help me, my husband thinks he's chicken!' and the doctor says 'Just tell him straight- he's not', and the woman replies 'I can't, we need the eggs').
3pm
I finally have lunch at 3, (sometimes it's even 3.30pm to be honest) and it usually comprises of a bowl of organic quinoa, and some organic greens- either broccoli or spinach. I then get as many mugs of organic decaf green down my neck as poss (I'm totally addicted to the stuff), whilst going through blogger emails. Sometimes I get a lot, sometimes I get hardly any, but I do try and reply to everyone. Then I start thinking about what I wanna put on InstaStories that day. I have totally mixed feelings about Storying- sometimes I feel like it's fun and more of an opportunity to have a laugh and some #bantz with everyone, but more often than not I just feel enormously pressurized to come up with something, anything. Because I don't live a particularly riveting life (no shit!) I feel like what I churn out is embarrassingly repetitive and limited, but the risk is that the algorithm will start hating on you if you don't play all the silly games that Zuck wants you to.
5.30pm
At this time I start to prep my main IG post of the day. I'll already have it filtered and saved and have gathered as many RewardStyle links as I can in order to share what I'm wearing in a shoppable way. (Hark at me, the little selling robot). I scroll through the whole feed before I post and I honestly get scared every time I put a new pic out there. Why? I dunno, it just gives me the fear. I'm rarely proud of any images I come up with, and if I do actually like summat I've done, chances are, everyone else won't. (I believe Alanis Morisette wrote a song about this once). At this point, I'm so done with IG (well, for a while). I need a break and I don't look at it again for a few hours. (That's my version of so done anyway).
6.30pm
I break for supper now (I never ever look at my phone when I'm eating), and I generally have avo on organic rye toast with a green salad. At about 8pm I come back to IG and look how my pic is doing, and then start planning out my picture for the next day and editing that. (And trust me when I say I need a lot of editing).
9.30pm
I'll run a bath while I'm still prepping snaps and then hop in at 10pm. I like to soak and relax and wind-down. Hell for me would be to get into bed covered in the day's dirt. I absolutely cannot contemplate going to sleep without a clean face, a clean bod and my hair up and out the way.
11.30pm
By this time I'm usually going through everyone else's InstaStories. I like to get the full sweep of someone's day- it usually makes more sense to me that way. (That's the other thing with my own Stories- I feel like I can barely post them without people jumping straight on them- and whilst it's lovely to know that everyone is interested- it's that pressurized feeling that freaks me out a bit). I then get into bed and read a few pages of Vogue or Elle. Finally, I play a very silly (and some would say greedy) little game. I compile a wish list of bags and shoes and anything I've seen in the mag I'm reading that I love and wish that it appears beautifully wrapped at the end of my bed by the morning. That normally helps me drift off and have very sweet dreams. (I'm still baffled though why nothing is actually there for me the next day).
