How did this all come about? Well, I read a lovely lady's blog post the other day talking about how she felt down and out. I completely understand those feelings and I've experienced them myself. When I started this blog I wanted people to visit knowing that they would find a piece of prettiness. With prettiness comes a level of styling and photography that is necessary in order to achieve a certain desired look.
We all read magazines and understand the appeal of looking at a styled interior. It contains a certain level of aspiration and want-ability (is that even a word). It engages the reader and inspires the soul. Even though most of the time our own spaces barely resemble any of these rooms, we all believe that the pics in the glossy magazines are achievable.
Slowly, our online lives easily morph into whatever we want them to be. We hide behind our avatars and the persona's we build through social media networks. It's hardly engaging nor is it interesting to share via Twitter that you've just finished cleaning the house. However, turn that house into the latest fancy restaurant and the cleaning into a celebrity who you spotted at said restaurant and all of a sudden your life sounds all the more interesting.
Not that I'm saying that everyone who Tweets or writes a blog is lying. Far from it. What I'm leading to is that many of us only show the aspects of our lives that we feel are exciting and worth tweeting or posting about. Multiply that by 10 million people and we have this extraordinary ripple effect of fabulousness resonating all over the interwebs. All of this fabulousness can leave some people feeling rather, well, unfabulous.
So, in honour of all things real and in the hope of making someone feel like they're very normal and just like the rest of us, here is a snapshot into my very real life. No fancy restaurants (you're lucky to get mac and cheese around here some days) and definitely no celebrities. Just me and my mess. Just reality.
|the kitchen or at least a bit of it|
|lounge complete with unfolded washing|
|my, ahem, sewing table. somewhere under there. I think.|
|No make-up, messy unstyled hair, no fancy filters|
Go on, be game. I dare you. You'll probably be making someones day you know. For real.