BLOGGER. Imagine actually having to introduce yourself as such “Hi nice to meet you, I’m a blogger” BLOGGER. Its just such an ugly word. There is not a hint of romance about it. But we all know that out there, in the big old world, there are hundreds of thousands of them….. bloggers blogging blogs.
At first I couldn’t really understand it. Who wanted to read some whipper snapper’s thoughts of fashion, when we already had access to Anna Wintour’s and Andre Leon Tally’s. And the idea of not actually turning the page, not feeling the thin shiny sheets between your fingers, instead ‘scrolling’ down the page with a ‘mouse’. Madness. And who wanted to see the pages of our great shelter and decorating magazines simply scanned and republished under the bloggers name, no fresh content, just stolen ideas. And even more odd, living your personal life out loud, editing your own reality show, putting your kids onto a cyber platform to perform publicly. Ooh it was all horrifying. Toe curling.
And then slowly, slowly as the weeks turned into years and I spent more time on the island, with out access to book stores or magazine booths, with endless power cuts and little TV, virtually no culture and certainly no daily newspaper, I began to turn more to the internet. I realized that even if they were whipper snapper’s their views were actually interesting, that reading about someone else’s’ parenting nightmares was comforting and watching their children have melt downs through my computer screen was actually fascinating.
There are an overwhelming amount of brilliant blogs out there (and a whole load of bullshit ones too). I creepily stalk the wonderful Heather Armstrong on Dooce, religiously read my friend Amanda Brooks on I Love Your Style, admire Heather Clawson with all she has achieved on Habitually Chic, am impressed by the energy of Erin Gates’ Elements of Style, but above all I worship Fuck Your Noguchi Coffee Table. This site reminds us all not to take any of it too, too seriously.