Proof of Life

Allow me to bust through this wall of silence like the Kool-Aid man and offer you this post as a proof of life. It’s been one whole year since I last updated my blog. I definitely didn’t intend to let this space sit vacant for such an extended period of time. That’s the strange thing about last time’s, you’re never acutely aware when they’re happening. Only once time has passed do these markers become clear – you haven’t seen someone in months, worn a certain piece of clothing, or updated a blog you’ve been nurturing for over a decade.

The space and time between my last post and present day feels like an albatross I have no interest in addressing (perhaps as a way to protect myself from getting lost in the weeds.) And yet, to begin posting as if there wasn’t a lapse, a cavernous gap between now and then feels odd. On the one hand, I don’t feel as though I owe anyone an explanation. Burnout is real and the pandemic has been a collective trauma we’re only just beginning to understand. That is more than enough to make a person feel like disconnecting from the world at large. But to return to posting content by sharing an outfit or some skincare feels disingenuous and quite frankly, a little bizarre.

While trying to decide how to approach my return to creating and sharing I fell into a destructive cycle. Firstly not knowing where to start, followed by immense anxiety and wondering what I was even doing with my life. Which quickly unraveled into an existential doom spiral into the depths of confusion. Whenever I worked up the energy to start again, something tragic would occur. Any of the fluff I was about to share felt truly unimportant and vapid. Just like any other repetitive routine, I had fallen into a pattern of convincing myself to not move forward. My routine had become laying low, avoidance and distraction.

Where I’ve Actually Been

The time I took off without ~officially~ taking a break, I spent sorting and sifting through years of trauma that I had been bottling up and avoiding for decades. Organizing and dealing with mental, emotional, and physical baggage. The pandemic truly forced my hand – I no longer had the option of travel to distract myself. My habitual tactic of running and being on the move wasn’t available to keep me comfortably numb anymore.

My life has been in boxes since I first went to university in 2006. 14 years worth of bad memories and missing / lost items to go through. It takes time, it takes a toll. Sometimes I wonder if I should close my eyes and throw it in a dumpster. I’m still not completely finished this task but I truly believe (and hope) the worst of it is over. The volume of my past lives, a fashion student, a vintage seller, a blogger, a music enthusiast, a meticulous archivist of my own existence, has been measurably decreased thanks to marketplace, and donating to local nonprofits like Find and CHEW.

EXCESS BAGGAGE

The emotional and mental baggage (which was conveniently triggered by the physical baggage of stuff) has not been a linear task. I wish I could look at my feelings, throw out the garbage ones, and donate the ones I’m no longer using. Unfortunately, human emotions do not fit neatly in boxes. The combination of therapy, being medicated for ADHD, and giving myself the time + space to do things that aren’t related to monetizing my entire being, has helped me arrive at a much better place than I was before.

Despite all the time spent on meditative tasks (cooking, painting, gardening etc) the burnout lingers to some degree. My inner critic loudly announces that Inspiration will continue to elude me, that I’m too old and too tired to start this train up again. My rational brain tries to reason with me that these statements cannot be true but it’s much easier to believe how terrible I am. This post is in direct defiance of that meddling asshole in my mind.

BLOGGING IN ANALOG

This haphazard post is me pushing myself to get moving but my aversion to contributing to capitalism in such a toxic way has only grown in the wake of the climate crisis and the pandemic. In many ways it’s been a huge contributing factor preventing me from moving forward in my working life. Do I want to continue “influencing”? That has been a question that’s been haunting me while attempting to hone in on my true values and ultimately what makes me happy.

Though any definitive answer continues to elude me, this much I know:

I never began my blog for anyone but myself. Prior to uploading and sharing, I was creating all the elements of a blog privately. Even in high school I would get my mom to photograph any outfit or makeup look I thought was worthy of remembering. Like the origin story of most people who get into fashion, I too created my own magazines and comic books. I was making mood boards in middle school and altering my clothes since elementary. As soon as I was able to write in any cohesive way, I kept a journal (and still do). Over half my life I was blogging in analog. The trajectory of my career aligns with the creative person I have always been paired with the economic circumstances at the time. I do not recommend graduating from university during a recession, housing market crash, or the death of the print industry. It will most certainly minimize your career opportunities.

THE CASE AGAINST MONETIZING YOUR BEING

Blogging was a joy when it was focused on sharing my creative endeavours, much like a digital scrapbook. It took a turn when money became involved. Unfortunately, I depended on advertisers and partners to be able to not only fund my creative space, but also to like… you know…. EXIST in this world. It’s not dissimilar to the artist and patron relationships from the renaissance. But in my experience, the modern patrons want a lot more for much much less. Instead of our art being a reflection of their status, it’s used as a tool to exploit both the creators (by paying them poorly) and consumers (by using a friendly and relatable face to endorse their products and sell even more).

The job I once loved became a daily fight advocating my worth to billion dollar corporations who used analytics generated by other billion dollar corporations to decide what I should be paid. This endless battle made me question my abilities, sense of self, and of course, my self worth. Maybe I am asking too much? Perhaps all the effort I put into my work isn’t enough? Is my work garbage? Maybe I’m garbage. Nobody would like this.

If there is one thing I am good at, I can confidently say spiralling is my specialty but no one seems to looking to hire for that skillset.

A MARKETING AGENCY OF ONE

I do wonder if there are other industries that use the barter system as aggressively as modern influencer marketing. Or if there are any other job sectors where wages are based solely on a person’s following. Are company profit margins largely increasing because their marketing budgets have drastically shrunk and are carried on the backs of creators? Traditionally, when a brand would set out to create an ad or marketing campaign, they would pay the following people (this is not a definitive list):

• art director / creative director / video director
• marketing team
• set designer / location scout
• model / talent etc
• makeup artist / wardrobe stylist
• photographer / videographer / editor
• various assistants
• craft services
• lawyers negotiating all these contracts

And all of this is before they even begin to pay for the ACTUAL ad space – the billboards, the magazines, the commercials etc.

Influencers, bloggers, vloggers et al, for the most part, fill ALL OF THOSE ROLES (unless they are able to afford a substantial team). But brands, typically, are only trying to gauge payment for the distribution despite asking you to provide the work of a complete creative agency. It’s fucked up. Because of the precarious nature of freelance, sometimes you end up accepting less than stellar job offers since you never know if there’s anything else on the horizon. Fighting for myself has exhausted me and sucked every ounce of joy out of the creative process. Not to mention the mindfuck of commodifying my being and not taking it personally when a brand refuses to pay a rate or passes on me. That’s a whole other essay waiting to be written for another day.

SO WHAT NOW?

I wish I had a definitive answer! I would love to return to my halcyon days of blogging when I posted my interests and shared styling, not consumption. Back to being an online scrapbook, longer form essays, stuff that probably won’t be SEO friendly. Letting go of the perfectionism that has created a deadly habit of abandoning countless projects because they never meet my unreasonable standards. The graveyard of forgotten creative endeavours is at max capacity.

I am not an influencer, I am a creator, a visual artist and writer. I don’t want to sell people shit they don’t need, I want to create things that inspire, educate, and entertain. Share the things I truly like and have improved my life and not feel obligated to please a brand or PR company.

The final piece of the puzzle is livelihood – and this is where the true issue lives. I want to continue on this journey without my labour being completely unpaid. What does that mean? Do I still accept the odd sponsorship? Should I embed 3rd party ads into my blog? Do I start a Patreon? How can I exist in this space without being at the mercy of corporate giants? The previous questions aren’t rhetorical, I’m truly asking for outside opinions. Perhaps having obsessed over “what’s next” for so long, I’ve overlooked the possibilities.

It’s been a while and I don’t know what I’m doing or where this will go ….so I’m just starting. I’m dipping a toe. If you made it this far, thank you 🙂

🖤 SJK

photographs - sandy joe karpetz