I'm dumb. You're dumb. We're all dumb.

Fashion blogging's "not real" anymore.

Everyone's fake.

Everyone's stupid.

And incredibly shallow.

source

We know, we know we know.

Self-reflection about the cliche that fashion bloggers have become has become a cliche in itself.

So what's a clichely un-cliche girl like me to do?

Give up all notion of personality and become a "brand ambassador"/ model?

gary pepper, weworewhat, trop rouge, fashion toast

"Embrace" personality and become a sassy "anti"-model?

or.... 

Shirk responsibility in favor of selfish rambling and ceaseless idiotic photos?

#3 for me!

But seriously. 

"Fashion" blogs are weird.

Blog "shoots" are not shoots. They are awkward paces back and forth in front of (oftentimes) amateur photographers confused by your choice of free time activities and awkward angle-legged poses.

The often inclement weather and strange public circumstances

 result in roughly one "effortless" pretty shot captured for every 45 mortifyingly embarrassing (and uncomfortable) outtakes.

They lack all forms of elegance.

They are not smooth.

Blog "meet ups" are not meetings. They are sugar-free caramel coffee whine-sessions about how stupid-yet-addicting blogging actually is.

Blog "collaborations" are not collaborations. They are free things sent in the mail sans meaningful conversation and hyped-up in order to sound important.

Unless you're super famous, in which case they're underwhelming collections made by pseudo-celebs.

Which we're expected to covet out of idolization for their inherent coolness.

Not for the product itself. 

And your blog "readers" are not readers. 

They're probably just casual social-media glancers weirded out by your ceaselessly narcissistic hobby.

They are also in no way "yours".

Blog "friends" are not friends. 

They are people you stalk.

Blogger "celebs" are not celebs. They are niche popular individuals with (usually) inflated egos and senses of self-importance, convinced that their every move is chronicled and cared about by the majority of "their" mindlessly following "readership".

But see, 

I'm your readership. I'm also a human. I don't solely exist as a statistic on your Google Analytics weekly update. I'm not a Facebook like. I'm not a "@___ [who] is now following you on Twitter." I'm not an Instagram double-click.

So the second that I start feeling unworthy, 

the whole everyman purpose of blogs is defeated. 

Because, really? Is that really what's "in your bag"?

Does your apartment really include impeccable displays of nail polish?

all from Teen Vogue's "My Room" series on fashion bloggers

Was your apple-picking trip really all that glamorous?

trop rouge vs. not trop rouge

Does the wind really aid your photo"shoots" instead of sabotaging them repeatedly?

I mean, c'mon, folks. I think it's time we stop idolizing impractical perfection and start the next round of grassroots fashion coverage. If it's not blogging, fine - but I do think that we need a little switch up - a little overturn of the norm. 

When jeans became mainstream, jean-wearers wore plaid. When plaid became cool, plaid-wearers ... well, they're probably still wearing plaid, because they're still fully unaware that it's even remotely "cool", 

but you can bet that the second they learn that what they're wearing is "trendy", they'll skip right along onto nudity - or some other equally unacceptable form of (non?)clothing.  

So what's a fashion-minded youth's metaphorical nudity?

If I, as an average human, no longer have any fashion-related media outlets that I can relate to, where do I turn?

Cheers.