Hey, style bloggers!
I’ve been writing a lot lately, doodz.
And I’ve recently been reading a lot of style blogs.
(You know, its like yeah, motherfucker, also started off as a style blog.)
But, the majority are still blah blah boring. I am feeling somewhat disillusioned and vaguely disgusted by the formulaic way these bitches write about fashion.
Use a few French phrases
Talk about how you’re going to wear something you can’t afford somewhere you’ve never been
Name drop about a million brands
Close with a picture of you wearing some outfit that took you 4 hours to put together, in a pose that makes you look as if you’re very stylishly straining on the toilet
Every Goddamn post.
Here’s an example of the kind of boring ass blog entry I’ve read sixty different variations of. This one is written by MOI!;
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Last night, flashed by as I paraded on a filthy dancefloor, flashes of girls with bleary eyes and broken hearts illuminated in the glitter flash of a strobe light. I strolled into the feebly stirring sunlight, a smile on my painted lips.
This morning, my friend and I were casually flipping through Purple Mag, in a very chic little bistro near my house, when we happened upon the most darling pair of Alexander Wang boots. Black, with a little elegant suede fringing, they would be perfect for strolling down the Champs Elysees, delicately clinging to the arm of a certain someone. Both of us gazed starry-eyed at our new obsession, Marlboro Lights smouldering away in a glass ashtray, forgotten. We placated ourselves by popping into a cute little vintage store and picking up some matching flats. Tres bon!
Well sir! If you read that without trying to stab me through the monitor, I salute you!
And if you write like this, I am pretty sure I hate you.
Just WRITE about FASHION, you pathetic, delusional douchebags. You live in Hull. Or Vermont. Or Bumfuck, Missouri. You are not some kind of international socialite.
I don’t give a FUCK about how you strolled through an adorable little market all day. This literally must be how porn lovers feel when they just want to watch the Pizza boy and the lonely MILF getting it on but are forced to sit through 10 minutes of stilted dialogue.