December 5, 2008

a lot of talking and run-on sentences

So, sorry for the recent blog hullaballoo. I kind of had an OMG moment, and no, not the kind from that weird deodorant commercial with A-Tiz. Anyways, I probably won't be making the mini blog soap-operaness any better by writing this, but it really needs to be said.

As of now, I am saying no to all press. I don't care if you're a blogger that just got started and has all but 2 readers or the big Mama Vogue herself (like that would ever happen, but sometimes you exaggerate to prove your point, yeah?). I'm not just saying interviews, but do not write about this blog at all. If I have already emailed you back and said I will, I'll follow that through and get back to your questions. And if I've already sent you pictures and done an interview and all that, you can release it because I don't want your time wasted and that would suck and I would feel like a guilty twit and I need to stay true to my word.

Allow me to explain why, yes?

Since I've started this blog, it has attracted far more readers than it probably deserves. It seems like the idea of a 12 Year-Old Girl Writing a Blog About Fashion makes good headlines or a good title, and at a time like this when our generation is the dumbest one yet, I guess it really shocks people. Whether that reaction be positive or negative-you either love that a 12 year old is blogging or you find it repulsive and fake-it still is somewhat of a surprise, and a big reaction is what I have learned quite a few journalists want.

Because of this, a lot of articles are knocking up Style Rookie to be something it's not. I'm not trying to blame anyone, but my situation is sort of being played up to something greater than it actually is. Some type of genius is created, someone far greater than I, and people come to my blog expecting to see a 12 year old fashion prodigy. The problem is, the person being created is someone way more advanced and stylish and smart than who I am. It is becoming harder and harder to live up to the role created for me, of me. I learned early on from blogging that you can't please everyone, but now I feel like I can't even make myself happy.

Sorry disclaimers, I'm not about to reveal my true identity as a 40 year old man or say that my mom actually writes and dresses me, but I'm just not this huge jesus child. I am definitely 12, just not as genius as I think most of you would prefer. I am not going to bother with the age thing anymore, as I've proved myself and defended myself too many times. It gets tiring, and I would rather be clipping my toenails and reading the Encyclopedia for letter U. No, G. Well, that's beside the point.

My parents are not tech whizzes or designers. My mom is an artist and Hebrew tutor and my dad is an English teacher, neither of which are very forward with technology but very supportive of my techy nerdness. I suck at Photoshop and HTML, I don't even know what xm, hd, or css are. I am not all that knowledgeable of the fashion world, I kind of try to stray away from trends, and am more familiar with the Salvation Army and my mom's friends unloading their old clothes on me than I am with designer boutiques or even Forever 21.

I am not saying I have been posting outfits I don't wear or stealing other people's ideas or using someone else's photos or writing in a way that isn't like me at all. I have tried my best to stay who I am on this blog, whether my readers like that person or not, and from what my friends that read my blog have said, I haven't compromised myself for it. I am the Tavi that is less than 4 and a half feet and is obsessed with Martin Margiela and likes lugging around a tripod and listening to Wilco and dying over the epicness of Wendy Bevan, just not what articles and journalists and the like play me up to be, mmkay?

I know having a lot of press is helpful if I want to become a designer or stylist when I'm older, but I'm more leaning towards being in a band and then becoming an elementary school teacher. Or a cat, so I can have 9 lives and be everything I want.

For my visual learning buddies:
More exposure=higher expectations=lots of stress=wondering if anything is good enough=sadface D:

I'm not trying to fish for compliments, and I don't want any of you to deny what I'm saying. In the end, to be perfectly blunt, I know myself better than my readers. That makes sense, right? This is my blog, and I'm very committed and devoted to it, but it does not define who I am. Hell, I'm still figuring out who that is *cue pretentious emo rock music* and probably the hardest way to go about that is to feel like you're being forced to reach expectations as high as a hippie.

I will still keep posting and vlogging and writing and taking pictures and being a nerd, that's why I'm here and I absolutely love it. All I'm asking is that you don't write about me. Not too hard, right? I hope not.
I have some fun posts lined up for the next few days, as in me being a crappy interviewer (I can still interview you guys, muahahahahaha) and COMME DES GARCONS and moldy mermaids.
Thanks you guys ♥
Trying hard not to feel like Carrie Bradshaw but it kind of isn't working because now I really feel in the mood for SATC*,
Tavi

"I would rather be hated for who I am than loved for who I am not." -Kurt Cobain.

*thanks guys XD