photo Ari Park // coat Uniqlo (seen here) // scarf vintage (seen here) // beanie H&M (seen here) // jeans Cheap Monday (seen here) // glasses Warby Parker (seen here and here) // shoes vintage (seen here)
You guys, this is a really serious post. Look at how pensive I am on that rooftop. That's how serious this is!
Jokes about blogger poses aside...I really feel the time is now for a post articulating a certain frustration with the role of the Fashion Blogger. Two articles I read recently have led me here, both from fashion journalists I've followed for some time and whose opinions I respect: one, from BuzzFeed Shift editor Amy Odell, asks where fashion will find its next Bryanboy - aka its Next Big Thing; the other, by Suzy Menkes, takes a closer look at that ultimate arena for the self-made style star, outside the venues where collections are shown during Fashion Week. Odell talks to a few blogging stalwarts regarding the future of the nascent occupation, all of whom say things developed naturally for them, with apparently a good bit of luck thrown in. Hark to this giant effing block quote from Odell that I can't bring myself to cut down to size:
Click through to continue reading this post!
For a business that craves and makes significant money on constant newness, surprisingly few new fashion bloggers have managed to become as important as the first generation of breakout personalities...the success stories seem so rare, the market so oversaturated, and the medium's future so uncertain, that you have to wonder: Is it even possible to become the next Bryanboy anymore? Yes, and no. Major influence like Bryanboy's is theoretically up for anyone's grabs — but it won't be attained in the same way. In this 'look at me!' age of social media, a unique willingness to stay behind the scenes seems key as fashion blogs like the Man Repeller offer more and more content more akin to a traditional magazine's. But the majority of people trying to blog their way to the front row probably haven't picked up on that yet.
Odell cites Bryanboy and Susie Bubble's concern that people nowadays start blogs for all the wrong reasons: "the freebies, the money, and the fabulous life, as opposed to an innate love of fashion and the internet." An innate love of fashion and the internet? Dude, I'm all over that - but Odell makes a point here to which Menkes' piece speaks: "With the aim now to receive trophy gifts and paid-for trips to the next round of shows, only the rarest of bloggers could be seen as a critic in its original meaning of a visual and cultural arbiter." This is something I've legitimately heard being discussed - how much you scored from PR reps one season and how much you're hoping to get the next. That side of blogging - the PR side - can feel out of control at times. It's a game I'm not necessarily interested in playing and that I didn't intend to sign up for - have I? I'm still not sure. I hate to think I can't be successful because of that. Menkes' qualm with the idea of blogger as critic has lost some traction in my mind, if only because so many successful fashion blogs now seem devoid of text in general, let alone harsh reviews. I feel that as a blogger I'm not necessarily critiquing and there's not really a need for me to be unbiased - I'm discovering and sharing things I love because I want you to find these artists and artisans who I believe have a great product or do great work. If I don't like it, you won't see it. Being beholden only to my personal preferences means that if I don't have anything nice to say, I don't say anything at all.
As far as being the next über-blogger is concerned, Odell quotes Ann Street Studio's Jamie Beck on the art of crafting a winning social media presence: "'I think it's all about consistency — trying to post every day, having a Tumblr and Instagramming two or three times a day...you have to think about it too. You can't just post a terrible flash photo of your dog. No one's going to trust you to take pictures if you can't take a good Instagram, so you have to think about those kinds of things, how it reflects on you and your work.'" Vogue's Katherine Bernard summed up Instagram's function quite nicely in a recent Vogue Daily post: "The addictive app doesn't show what's naturally there, it encapsulates your ability to make elegant and compelling aesthetic choices." I agree with Beck and Bernard insofar as their statements apply to creative professionals. I feel, however, that there are a ton of people out there making poor aesthetic choices, constantly proving themselves to have arguably poor taste, who are at least moderately successful. Certain people are able to accrue followers in spite of their incompetence when it comes to producing content at a professional level. I completely agree that it is true that Instagram and other social media outlets such as Tumblr and Pinterest can serve as legitimate platforms for artistic expression, but more often than not they don't - and there are a ton of people to whom that couldn't matter less.
But what does this have to do with a blogger's output? Theoretically we're all independent content producers. Our sites can be as legitimate an outlet for various media as anything else online, though it can be hard to remain motivated to continuously put out the good stuff when a readership is so hard to come by. Personal blogs are a thing separate from magazines or popular websites in that a lot of people "don't do" blogs - if they don't read one, they don't read any. Personal blog posts are more niche and less likely to go viral in the way a news story about gun control or Katy Perry's breasts at the Grammys could go viral. Personal blogs are just that - personal. They're not universal and easily understood and digested by the masses, though some most certainly play into what's trendy to drive pageviews and increase the chances that they'll be selected for Martha Pataki, Ohio mother of five's, "I Love Pretty" Pin board. Says Odell, "Each season, plenty of bloggers show up at fashion week just to have their photos taken by street-style photographers. The desperation for attention has become so extreme that you hear stories of some who linger outside show venues even if they don't have tickets to the actual shows. But even if their loitering successfully draws that kind of attention — which can give a certain face name recognition — it won't be enough for a lasting career." Menkes also articulates this phenomenon, which I discussed in depth here, noting that, "Fashion has to some extent become mob rule — or, at least, a survival of the most popular in a melee of crowdsourcing."
If the democratization of Fashion has, in recent years, led to the current state of affairs - everyone seeing the pie, realizing they can have a piece of it too, everyone trying to chirp the loudest so the proverbial mother bird will give them the fattest, uh..worm slice (did that work?) - then the big question remains: where are we headed? A good place? A bad place? A more sophisticated place? Fred's for lunch? I think the unease apparent in this line of questioning stems from the awareness many in the industry have that Fashion can't continue to be what it once was - "luxury" is constantly being redefined, as is "celebrity," as is "quality", as is "relevance." What does it really mean to attend a show when people are asking if we need them any more? When people have forgotten why they were necessary in the first place? I'm not posing these questions because I have the answers, but because they illustrate that underlying tension in Odell's headline: in asking, "Who is the next Bryanboy?," she is operating under an awareness that increasingly, in fashion, shit can come flying out of nowhere. Change is the only constant and change is more constant than ever. (Odell herself declared Instagram dead this #NYFW, touting Vine as the only way to share coverage of the shows.) And as far as the next big designer is concerned? Well, Bryanboy just launched neon furs in collaboration with Adrienne Landau. The next big editor? Tavi released Rookie: Yearbook One last year. The next top model? Uh, anyone blogging in Australia.
At the end of the day, I blog about fashion and style because I love it. I love it so much that I stop into Barneys just to see in person the collections I so ardently admired on Style.com and take the chance to feel everything up. I probably look crazy, but living in New York and being lucky enough to have access to these beautiful creatures is too good an opportunity to pass up. I see getting dressed as an opportunity to slowly push my boundaries, to question what's in good taste and what's ripe for the faux-pas file. Blogging is the opportunity to show how these aesthetics I've developed apply to the different facets of my life. My blog is also really reflective of how my style has changed and is changing, which is cool and sort of the whole point, right?
I admit that it can feel a bit ridiculous at times, trying to find something compelling to say about my, "personal style," as Shini of Park & Cube so pleasingly bluntly put it: "I guess the problem arises mainly from the fact that I really am not interested in writing about the outfit above… there’s only so much I can tell you about grey jeans. I plan to wear this next week, what do I say THEN?" That's partly why I've tried to diversify the content here as much as possible and to really pay attention to what my readers (y'all!) respond to, because despite the staleness that abounds in certain corners of the web, I still can't believe it when people tell me, "blogging is over." (Or, more accurately, "blogging is so five years ago.") It's just beginning! Within the last six months alone I've found a plethora of wonderful bloggers whose work is always inspiring, creative and fun. Granted, I've been made aware of far more people without any discernible talent or viewpoint, but I try not to focus on that...
So I guess this is my call to arms, so to speak. My long, but hopefully not long-winded post about blogging that is basically a novella. I'd just like us all to realize the potential in blogging and the power of having an audience. That's all. There will inevitably be someone who doesn't take the time to read this post and leaves the, "Love your scarf!" comment. I know that. I get that. But hopefully you've enjoyed slogging through this with me and know that I'm only too happy to hear from you in the comments!
Like this post? Check out Personal Style Vs. The Internet and Original Content
