I’ve been reading a lot of critiques of blogs and bloggers recently, not of me obviously* and one of the recurring critiques seems to be based on a perception that things are not real or details are being left out to brand protect.
Given that another issue coming up in both reader reviews and in articles is comparison envy, if the thing that people are viewing isn’t shown as sleek or perfect then there might not be a marketing tool available. The pretty facade feeds back into that by making us feel that void in our lives and then showing us something pretty to fill that void with. It’s something that has lead to a lot of self doubt on my part and reflection on whether spending time looking at others lives is a healthy thing to do.
There are the obvious draw backs to comparing myself to others, when I see a clean house, a woman who never seems to spend all day make-up free, or dressed poorly, it makes me wonder why the hell I can’t get my shit together. Even more so when I see someone claim that they are now going to be keeping the real on display and then continue to show a very styled life, perhaps with the addition of pajama clad kids. Maybe that is real and I really really don’t have my shit together. Either way there are benefits to seeing others doing things well, whether real or imagined, it provides something to aspire to and if not then an escape.
I like to escape.
The fact is my house is almost always a disaster, partly because for every one mess I clean Eve creates two, partly because our house lacks any kind of built in storage, partly because we are living in the house while we renovate, partly because teenagers and partly because I vacillate between keeping up with housework and not giving a damn.
But I like to be real about who I am and where I am, if I leave something out it’s that no one asked, or that I’m fairly certain no one sane wants to see my bedroom floor piled with dirty laundry, or clean laundry or the insane amount of house magazines that I buy.
I won’t make a sweeping claim that I am going to keep things gritty and real here, but I promise that if there’s anything you’re curious about I’m a mostly open book.
This is me Sunday afternoon, sitting in my bed that has no linen on it, eating chocolate (Lindt 85% cocoa doesn’t have dairy) in my pajamas because that’s me.
I’m wearing make-up but my roots need doing and I haven’t shaved my armpits.
This is me about as real as I’m willing to show.
*I’m not a big enough fish.