houndstooth swing coat & muted vintage florals

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Cosplaying Madeleine today, though I’m not sure I’d enjoy having twelve of me. I’ve read too much Calvin & Hobbes not to understand the dangers of duplication.

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For the past three weeks, my views have tanked. TANKED. I’m talking, like, ~20 per day. Sometimes up to 70 if I’m lucky.  My stats have climbed steadily upward for the past year, but I think I might – perish the thought – have peaked. January clocked in at 4,095 views. February sank to 2,419. March is young yet, but I’ve had only 254 views, which averages out to ~40 per day. I don’t know what’s happening, and I’m kinda freaked out.

My content hasn’t changed. I mean, it’s evolved over the past almost-three years I’ve blogged here, but there’s been no jumping of the shark. Nothing so radical as to shrink my hits counter by a good third. It’s gotten better, I think. I get better at photography with every shoot. I refine my knowledge of vintage every time I get dressed.

Maybe this kind of thing isn’t up to me. Maybe the internet tells you when your expiration date has arrived, and you roll with the masses or risk total irrelevance.

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I’m not grubbing for views, I swear. I’d sooner gag on a spoon than be so publicly maudlin. But I would like to know if I’m alone in this. Has anyone else ever experienced this kind of drop-off, precipitated by basically nothing? Talk to me. Others’ stories just might alleviate my finger-chewing neuroses.

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I may be just as insufferable as I was last year, but dammit, I think I produced some pretty good art in 2014. If 2013 was the year I “actually took on some semblance of a recognizable style“, then 2014 was about figuring out how to work my goddamn camera.

These are my favorite posts of the year. This isn’t just a “hey give me a lots of clicks” attention grab; I have slightly more integrity than that. I just really enjoy seeing where I am artistically. And, y’know, getting lots of clicks. I’m only human.

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bloody snowmy tacky manifesto

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garden of earthly delights & something is terribly wrong with the princess

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loonette’s heyday & girl on the burning tightrope

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my precious & by the sea (mr. t)

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steam for a day & curvy girls with floral curls

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curious little beastie & decadent decades

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mad as a hattrix & rockabilly religion major

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the traveling yellow skirt freak show & the other holy grail

 

 

 

all is not lost

I sure hopped on my soapbox yesterday. I carry one everywhere just to be safe. But I don’t like to identify a problem without doing something about it, so I want to highlight a few bloggers who break that “cupcakes and hipsters” mold. As much as I bitch and bemoan my loneliness, I am really not the only blogger trying to do something different.

A few things I look for in a really quality blogger:

  • First and foremost, uniqueness. Not to get all “I’m not like other girls” on you and sniff that popular interests are inherently bad. Not at all! But no matter how pedestrian your passions, I want to see them filtered through the lens of you. I want to see them come alive through your eyes. Few things bore me faster than someone with no opinions and no perspective.
  • Humility. I don’t think anyone is required to apologize for the things they have or the life they lead. I’m not expecting high-end bloggers to prostrate themselves at my feet. But hideously expensive items presented without context or commentary seems tone-deaf to me, particularly when they’re included in “gift guides” or “shop my closet” links. You don’t have to apologize, but I would like you to acknowledge your presence in the 1%. And maybe include a few cheaper alternatives.
  • In that vein,  I have become quite cynical about corporate sponsorships. Sometimes I really appreciate them: I always like seeing bloggers review products or sellers I’d been considering. Hey, I’ve done one myself. But there’s a point at which it stops seeming like a review and becomes blatant ass-kissing. As though the blogger is the new “face” of the product rather than just another discerning consumer. It feels really dishonest to me, and antithetical to what (I think) fashion blogging should be about: an independent take on style, not just another corporate extension. Bloggers dressed in head-to-toe c/o are a huge turn-off. If you’re relying on sponsors to dress you, you’ve lost touch with the “personal” element of personal style.
  • Artistry. This is probably the most important. I am forever endeared to any blogger who can describe her outfit beyond “it looked nice”. I’m sure it did, but what inspired you? What character are you playing? Do you feel like a Greek goddess or a riot grrl? Maybe both? Show me that you’re thinking here. Show me that you’re interested in style, the art, not just clothing, the acquisition.

Here are some favorites that break the mold.

Advanced Style

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I have a soft spot for anyone pushing the boundaries of who fashion is for. AS is full of older women (and a few men) who refuse to diminish. They wear exactly what they choose, and they have no patience for prudes half their age clucking “do”s and “don’t”s at them. Ari Seth Cohen’s photography is bright but down to earth; he’s trying to complement the glossies, not replace them. He even released a documentary this fall.

Downside: as I’ve gotten more invested in Advanced Style, I’ve spent a lot more time combing the obituaries.

Amy Flying a Kite

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Amy, admittedly, hits a lot of the marks I railed against yesterday (grainy pensiveness, lots of food photos). That said, her versions of them make clear that they come from within and not without. She’s a poet and a folk musician, and everything about her oozes the earnestness thereof. The way she writes about her life and her art and her style is just…the best word I have is reverent:

I told myself many years ago that I must learn to call every winter beautiful and find my own reasons for saying so. I will not spend a lick of December longing for the garden or trying to catch the fragrance of flowers. I will stay cozy and close to the fireplace while being dazzled by the kind of glitter you can only find in the snow. I will bake shortbread cookies and give them a hot cocoa bath. I will find one hundred reasons to love the season in which I was born.

I think the main difference between her and other “hipster” bloggers is that Amy doesn’t take a thing for granted. She’s about finding beauty in every mote of existence. She might seem maudlin, but nope: she’s just that sentimental. She can’t be pretentious, because there’s no pretense. This is who she is. And I love it.

Eccentric Owl

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Let’s be real; Kristina’s style is crazy similar to mine. We’ve both got the kooky/pinup/society dame thing going on. And we’re exactly the same size, so the fantasy of sharing her wardrobe is just that much closet to reality. More than that, though, she integrates her outfits into her world and shows off just how much can be done with clothing. She designs costumes for her husband’s short films and puts together outfits inspired by books she’s reading. And her makeup skills put me to shame.

She’s also just…real. I don’t know how else to put it. She writes simply and warmly but manages to avoid the cloying pseudo-intimacy I see in so many bloggers. She’s also very different from me spiritually and socially, but our disagreements are never anything but civil. For instance, she disagrees that sex work is empowering to women, but she’s supporting my Dressember campaign for the International Union of Sex Workers because she still believes their rights should be protected. I respect that.

As a person, she couldn’t be more down to earth; as an artist, she whisks me away. That’s a combination I always appreciate.

Helga Von Trollop

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Helga is the kind of bawdy older woman I can imagine stuffing a dollar in a Chippendale’s g-string. And then maybe rushing the stage, because you only live once. She reminds me of one of my mom’s friends: a squat, redheaded Kiwi prone to overuse of the word “fabulous”. Helga is everything I want to be when I grow up, and getting drunk with her is on my bucket list.

Kitsune-kun

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She’s an artist, plain and simple. She makes no distinction between “outfit” and “costume”: the whole world’s her stage, every photo a production. I deeply admire that.

Melodic, Thrifty, & Chic

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Anna is unbearably twee. And also cyberpunk, and also dapper as all hell. She remains the most genuinely chameleonic fashion blogger I’ve ever seen. It takes a sharp eye to wear so many distinct styles and look 100% at home in each one. She’s also awkward as fuck, in the most adorable way possible. She takes this self-deprecating tone that never comes off as grating, just honest.

Not only THAT, but she’s one of the few bloggers who does corporate sponsorship right. She gives honest reviews of the products in question. No fawning, no smarm. She also sees the free swag for what it is: a gift, not a given. So many bloggers seem all too blase about the free stuff. Anna never takes it for granted.

The Clothes Horse

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Disclaimer: Rebecca is pretty damn popular. Last I checked, she had >10k followers on Facebook. But you know what, I love her anyway. She’s the only capital-B blogger I really follow, but rest assured she deserves it. Her blog is its own universe, full of starched pleats and pre-Raphaelites. Her posts never feel like just collections of photos: they’re knit together with poetry, art history, or whatever else she’s inspired by that day. Here’s what she wrote about Carven’s pre-fall 2013 collection:

I envision the Carven Pre-fall 2013 girl as a real-life Margot Tennebaum of inherited furs and consanguineous neuroses. She’s supposedly getting a master’s degree in Art History, but due to her hermit-like tendencies she hasn’t managed to complete her course work, let alone start her required internship. She spends most days deep within the recesses of her ancestral home reading Anais Nin by a fireplace filled with candles and cooking pasta over a bunsen burner. When she ventures out her disheveled hair and the dark circles under her eyes always betray her more curious nature no matter how gentrified her outfits of vintage Ferragamos, Chanel jackets, and crocodile clutches.

The Leather Fanny Pack

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Because she’s the wacky society dame I desperately aspire to be. She’s obsessed with A Series of Unfortunate Events and dresses like the Esme Squalor of my headcanon. She is dark and arty (and just a wee bit insufferable) and completely fabulous.

surprisingly easy being green

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So I haven’t stopped reading GOMI. I know I said I didn’t want to give them pageviews, but the more I think about it, the less I want to judge any forum by its lowest common denominator. Not that the lowest common denominator isn’t fucking awful, but y’know. There are literal Neo-Nazi blogs on tumblr; that doesn’t make the whole platform responsible. And a lot of the GOMI stuff really does make me think.

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For one thing, it keeps me on my toes. A lot of the commenters are actually pretty sharp fashion-blog connoisseurs. They know what works. Some of the writing/photography advice is bang-on. And some of it affirms petty hatreds I already harbored. If I’d had any desire to sign my posts “love, Skye”, it would have been well and truly quashed by now. That can only be a good thing.

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For another, it raises questions that have interesting implications outside fashion blogging. I’ve read a couple of debate threads re: what bloggers “owe” their readers. There’s a lot of criticism of bloggers who choose to curate their lives and not share anything that isn’t tidily presented.  The argument seems to be that if blogging is your livelihood, you owe your readers the kind of content they want.

And I’m sorry, but no.

First of all, does anyone actually think blogs aren’t curated? While you’re clutching your pearls, I’ve got a bridge I’d like to sell you. Artists want to present their best work. That’s to be expected, and it doesn’t make them “fake”. Are you also outraged that novelists edit? That painters don’t sell their rough drafts? If you don’t like the way I present myself, you are free to stop reading and to withdraw your financial support. I despise the whole “I pay your salary, now give me what I want” entitlement. Bloggers aren’t government-subsidized. If you don’t want to support a particular blogger, then don’t. Withdraw your money and stop demanding that her work fit your specifications.
Second of all, this kind of hunger for personal information ruins lives. Maybe that’s hyperbole. I haven’t heard of any bloggers driven to suicide by the ravenous public. But it certainly happens to celebrities of other stripes. Whether macro- or micro-, it’s the mentality that keeps tabloids in business. I’ve written before on the confusion of objectification and sexualization, and this is a perfect example. How is ragging on bloggers for not laying their lives on the table anything but objectifying? Far more so than a naked photo.
I am a fashion blogger, not a feels blogger. If I share anything beyond that, mazel tov. But I don’t owe it to you.

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