THE STRANGER | Becoming a fashion blogger sellout

Becoming a fashion blogger sellout

Smoking is unhealthy. I do not endorse it, nor do I believe in waging a moral war against it.

An online publication company emailed me about signing The Stranger. With only ten entries published on my blog so far, my ego was being treated to an undeserved massage. I started to have dreams about becoming a fashion brand ambassador, being showered with a closet full of freebies, and doing nothing but attending fashion events for a living. These dreams lasted for a few days. Believe me, I seriously considered doing it. I was feverish to the point of collapsing, yet I would stay up until sunrise every night trying to reinvent my blog for a more fashion-forward audience. I checked Google analytics every hour or so, and got a pathetic thrill off the amount of traffic that was being driven to The Stranger.

…Until the suggestions started pouring in:

“Less writing, more pictures, and more outfits.”

(They have a good point. And they’re right. For the most part, my visitors are 18-24 year old females, and when I write rants like these, the only positive reception comes from an older crowd.)

…And more “friendly” suggestions:
“Like your entry on Amsterdam, it’s well-written, but it’s not the type of content that reaches out to a fashionable crowd … You need to tone down your voice. Your entries may be too personal.”

Just a few minutes ago, I sent out an email rejecting the offer. Perhaps my decision was fueled by a juvenile moral snobbery, or a naive reluctance to become a “sellout”. But when you allow the voice of others to assume a toll on your decisions, when you become so keen on pleasing everybody but yourself, no matter how much praise you receive, you’ll eventually wind up with this nauseating sense of self-abandonment… Self-betrayal, even.

I hope that through this blog, I can consolidate my love for fashion—an aesthetic that strives on an industry so vain—with all my other hobbies, that really, have become the antidote to the void. When great people in your life keep dying, a useless passion can become your only distraction.