Thursday, July 8, 2010

damn, I was hoping for pensive!


This is a bit of a strange post to write, but I just wanted to say a massive thanks to everyone who has written in the past few days to tell me that they like what I'm doing here on Fashademic. Part of what I wanted to explore through this blog was what it's like to actually keep one, something I'm fairly certain I've mentioned before, and I've been reflecting on this affective side a lot over the past few days.

I had early curiosities circling in my head such as how long it actually takes to type a post and what it actually feels like to sit at a computer and tap out something so personal and opinionated. (Pretty satisfying, actually! It's similar to the buzz I got when I was a high school debater, and you have a room captive to woo or fire up with your words.) 

And what emotions are conjured up by doing this, if any? (Uh, YEAH there are emotions! Sometimes I feel obligated to write something interesting, which can morph fairly swiftly into faint anxiety if no ideas materialise at the front of my mind; sometimes elation, if someone tells me they like a particular post. Embarrassment, when people talk about the outfit posts- especially the early ones, holla Zak!)

Actually, anyone telling me they read this is a disarming experience. On the one hand, I'm so delighted that you find it interesting. Incredulous, but delighted. On the other hand, I also feel a little exposed. Which is ridiculous because I am the author here and what I've shared on here has all resulted from a choice I've made. But not really knowing who reads this makes it a bit of a guessing game if people toss info into our conversations -they reference dealbreakers or skim caps, two of my greatest loves!- and I am left madly scrabbling through earlier conversations to figure out if that knowledge is read from here or was exchanged in an earlier 'real life' interaction.


And how is this blog not also 'real life'? But in my mind, it isn't. It feels like an extension of my imagination, and that the writing I do on here isn't 'real' writing because it's neither academic and referenced nor fictional and just for myself. WEIRD!

O gee. I'll stop this dive into my interior now, promise.

I actually came on here to thank all you lovely readers for coming on and checking this out. What started as a very small, very personal methodological exercise has developed into something much more far-reaching. It's really cool, really unexpected. And I still can't really believe that people enjoy reading my ramblings about the stuff I'm interested in, but gee it's cool that you do! So thanks:)

NB: I included the image ostensibly because she looks pensive, and this is a very thoughtful post? or something? But... it's also lovely, isn't it? The light evanescing through her hair, and that killer jacket with the spikes which would pierce anyone trying to give her a hello hug. Maybe she wants to discourage potential friends, and she actually cultivates that bird's nest hair, growing it into a snaggly halo by leaving it unwashed and letting her eleven cats sharpen their claws in it. Just a gut feeling, but I'm probably right.

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