Don’t get me wrong: I’m not illiterate. Obviously. Yet I feel like it’s becoming more and more difficult (if not impossible) for me to read a longer text. And by that I mean an elaborate article, a short novel or basically anything that is longer than your average tweet. It’s been a few years that I noticed a decline in my reading abilities. When I was a teenager, I used to riffle through thick books within an afternoon, reading 100 pages per hour. But since I’m a student I’m getting slower and slower. Sure, the quality and therefore difficulty of my reading material has risen. But to this extent? I don’t think so.
For a long time I attributed this to my literary studies. Having to read all the time must have spoiled it for me. Maybe I was just constantly tired of it. Yet not even being on holidays could excite the spark to sit down with a lengthy book. I also began to notice that the distractedness I felt, when trying to read, had crept over into other areas of my life: „multitasking“ or having several stimuli at once has become my default mode of doing just about anything. While cooking I need some youtube videos, while cleaning music has to be playing and I can’t seem to eat alone without watching an episode of whatever series I’m currently procrastinating with.
It was just very recently that I discovered that I’m not the only one who has this problem and that apparently there are some discussions going on, about whether the internet might have rewired our brains in a way that we become able to juggle 10 open tabs and risotto making at once, but fail to deeply concentrate on one thing for a longer period. Through some online articles (of course!) I stumbled over The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains by Nicholas Carr, which tries to explain and scientifically back up just that. Unfortunately it being a 280 page-long book I haven’t read it yet (as if that should surprise anyone at this point), but I promised myself to do it. A questionable bond this book now shares with about 50 other volumes on my bookshelf.
In the meantime what I told myself is that I could get back to reading with the help of the good old newspaper. So I got myself a students subscription and- hoarded the poor things on my living room floor because I felt guilty for not having read each line of each issue (hey, it’s a lot of precious paper that is put in my letterbox just after all). Obviously this didn’t help at all and now I’m not only behind on assignments for uni but I also have a stack of newspapers that really need to be read before I can allow myself to gently slide them into the recycling bin.
But maybe the only way to tackle this is the same way you should solve all of your problems: one by one. So after a long day of pointlessly overwhelming my senses with doing yet again a million tiny things far off my priority list for the entire afternoon, I will read one of those newspapers. Maybe.
To be continued…
First of all: Yes. Me, in particular, I would need to write a shit ton of other stuff right now. But that is besides the point. Does anyone still need to write a fashion blog in 2016? Even if you want to put yourself out there, why not just microblog over instagram? Are we still pretending to read the text accompanying the outfit posts of big blogs?
When I started blogging the idea of fashion blogs was new, fresh and exciting. I loved seeing girls like me wear stuff I could afford and find myself. But in just over a decade a lot has changed. This is certainly a topic I would like to further explore in future. How we went from average looking young women wearing H&M to the same women somehow not only transforming their wardrobes but also their bodies, wandering off into spheres which -once again- are not reachable for your average Susie. I find it fascinating how twelve years ago bloggers would be shamed for being rude, while today the arguably same nobodies manage to still make money without even disclosing where their clothes come from. Which brings me back to the title of this post: what’s the fucking point anyway?
There are several reasons why I decided to also blog about fashion. One being that some really good, inspiring fashion blogs can still be found out there and many of those developed into a direction I would not have expected: they blog about fair fashion, sustainability and their responsibility in regards to it. I too, would like to change my habits (which at the moment are quite bad) and rethink my relation to material goods in general. Another reason for this is that I feel the spectrum of blogs is getting more limited everyday. Sometimes I am scrolling through feeds left and right, hoping to see myself but I never do. Until I realized that maybe I should just put myself out there. And so I did.
T-Shirt & Jeans: Mango | Blazer: Zara | Sneakers: Nike | Beanie: Pieces | Bag: Nneka Merchandise
Mit dem Schreiben von Blogs habe ich Übung. Dieser hier ist mittlerweile mein Vierter. Ich gehöre zur Generation, die alles mitgemacht hat: MSN, Foren, Diddl-Chatroom, bescheuerte Email Adressen und myblog Designs inklusive. Die Blogs sind dann langsam anspruchsvoller geworden, ich gab mir Mühe weniger hinzukotzen und mehr vorzubereiten. Trotz dem Drang zu schreiben, Fotos zu teilen, auszutauschen und Dinge loszuwerden, blieben mir diese digitalen Tagebücher nie lange erhalten. Vielleicht liegt es daran, dass dieses aufwändige Format nicht zu mir passt (mein privater Instagram Account ist bis dato mein längster persönlicher Erfolg in Sachen Kontinuität). Vielleicht liegt es daran, dass ich in einem Alter war, in dem ich mich viel zu schnell weiterentwickelte. Die Beiträge von letztem Monat waren schnell peinlich, nicht gut genug oder passten nicht ins Konzept. Ein Konzept zu haben, das wissen die Besitzer von erfolgreichen Social Media Accounts, ist schliesslich das A und O. Man arbeitet an seinem Gesamteindruck, gleicht die Farbtemperatur seiner Bilder an, kennt seine Zielgruppe und kontrolliert seinen Inhalt. Vielleicht liegt die Kurzlebigkeit meiner Blogs auch daran, dass ich an meinen eigenen Konzepten immer wieder gescheitert bin. Es verhält sich ähnlich mit meinem Kleidungsstil. Ich nehme mir regelmässig vor mich minimalistisch zu kleiden. Oder etwas Boho Chic in die Garderobe einfliessen zu lassen. Und nach ein, zwei Wochen folgt dann immer die Explosion im Kraut- und Rübenbeet, und ich trage wieder alles durcheinander. Beziehungsweise wird das angezogen, was in der Schublade zuoberst liegt. Um mich kurz zu fassen: ich schaffe es nicht mich an meine eigenen Konzepte zu halten- oder wähle sie falsch. Ob es jetzt hier anders wird, wird die Zeit mir weisen.
Und falls nicht, mach ich mir einen Fünften.