When we got back from California, I saw that I’d lost followers on instagram. It was a disheartening feeling. I’d been working so hard on posting, working on my captions, working on “showing my personality” and I lost followers. I did an instagram takeover for Rent The Runway, the third one I’ve ever done hoping it would spur me into the 10K mark, and it did absolutely nothing. Not a blip, not a thing. Guess Rent The Runway isn’t really my market. But it was a blow. I was so excited about it and had a lot of fun
doing it but I didn’t get much out of it. On the plane ride home from California I decided to finish out the content I had (photos from California) and quietly disappear into the ether. I was done trying to keep up with the numbers, appeal to the masses and keep my fucking sanity. After all, I thought, this is just a hobby. Something I do for fun, the way some people run everyday, or read the newspaper. But I also thought to myself, “what the hell would I do if I didn’t blog?” It’s that ingrained in me.
I remember last year when Gabi of Gabi Fresh tweeted that I was the most under rated blogger. She confirmed something I’ve known for a long time. As far as the blogging game, I’m old. I’ve been blogging for almost 7 years. I’ve had highs, I’ve had lows, I’ve wanted to quit every other year. But something always pulls me back. I think it’s so easy to get caught up in the numbers, the followers, blah blah blah. I had to sit down and have a good look at myself and what I really want to do with this space. I’m so lucky to have great friends who also blog like Vana and Jen who really checked me when I said I was done. Not to mention these two are my biggest cheerleaders and I love them both so much for all their support. I was blogging when bloggers didn’t get free stuff or really even worked with brands. I snuck into my first fashion show because I wanted to be a part of it so badly. I didn’t even have a camera when I started this blog. I used flip phone photos and finally invested in a fuji film camera. I was just excited to have a space on the internet that was mine.
Location: Yucca Valley California
GET THE LOOK
I love writing. That’s what it all comes down to. I had dreams of being a journalist and writing for magazines. I can’t tell you to this day how many articles I’ve pitched to magazines, newspapers, and online websites. How many times I came so close only to be shut down. I’ve never been published in any of the spaces I fight so hard to get a byline in. I was so discouraged that I started my own magazine. I said fuck it, y’all don’t want the stories I want to tell then I’ll do it on my own. It’s turned into one of the things I love most about blogging and I look forward to putting Fashion Steele NYC Magazine out every year. I even had a few editors tell me that it’s good enough to be on the stands. But I already knew that.
As long as I have this space, I know I can never quit it. I love it too much. I love being able to tell a story whether that be visual through fashion or actual stories. Some of my favorite post are those that have nothing to do with what I’m wearing. Like my story about how I met ASAP Rocky, or how I budgeted 6 Days in Paris, or my detailed story of my time in Havana, and how I almost died on a hike in Italy, how I took my first solo trip or the story of why I went natural. It’s the stories that I love to tell and whether that gets me followers or likes or whatever the fuck, I just want to tell the story. I can never stop writing. It’s easy to get caught up in the hoopla, the circus that is basing your worth on a number. I’ve gotten back to why I do it and although all the extra stuff is still frustrating, I’m glad to I have this space. I’m glad that it’s mine and I can be and do whatever I want. I’m also glad that there’s even one person out there reading this. I thank you for reading.
PS. It’s been a dream of mine to be in the desert with nothing but the dirt and me. Finally knocked it off the bucket list. Yucca Valley was amazing. I awoke to watch the sun rise over the mountains and sat under the bright stars at night. It was so quiet I could hear my heart beat.