I haven’t blogged for a month. Work has been overwhelming and also I forgot I had a blog for about three weeks, and now that I remembered, everything I want to write about, I can’t because of stupid confidentiality. And/or sleeping. So instead, here is a guest post from my daughter. It might become a regular feature. Like all those other regular features I try to institute but don’t carry on beyond one or two weeks. Take it away Zadie…
People of the world,
I realised something recently. It’s been in my mind for a while but there’s a lot of other important stuff in there fighting for priority attention, like watching eps of Minnie’s Bowtique on YouTube, arranging all my pink and purple possessions in my handbag collection, and thinking of new ways to be a jackass to my brother.
But my new realisation came over me after an unexpected prompt from my mother. She rushed down the stairs early one morning and after appraising her for a split second, I drolly enquired, “Mama, are you really wearing that to work?” You see, I had experienced a prescient awakening and frankly given the countless other prompts she’s given me, from the earliest days of our relationship when she favoured continually wearing formless pants made out of a soft grey fabric, to the present time where she spends most of her non-work time in a nightie from Uniqlo, I wonder why this flash of couturial apprehension has taken so long to descend.
Nonetheless, like my mother down the stairs on that memorable (for all the wrong reasons) day, it has, and clearly the responsible thing for me to do now is start a semi-regular sartorial advice column here.
Not only can mama often not dress herself for work, she apparently also can’t write a super-sucessful blog along the lines of Dooce or or The Sartorialist or The Bloggess, whose authors earn up to $1 million a month. The sad thing is she’d be happy earning one ten-thousandth of that and yet she can’t even achieve that feeble threshold. I’ve told her you have to write more than once a month, and probably put up some ads, before you can start thinking about revenue. It’s like she doesn’t even care about my future. So I’ve got to take things into my own tiny hands.
I’ve perused a lot of successful blogs and I see that those at the pinnacle deliver daily content, studio-quality photos, and aspirational style advice. Sure I can’t do much on the computer that’s not Boowa & Kwala, and I am obviously dictating this post, and I can’t take, edit or upload photos – but I am awesome at having photos taken of ME. And I bring the style. I take my role as only daughter of the house seriously; you better believe I’m doing it up right every day.
WAIT NO that last one was a mistake. Don’t wear blue jox under your ballet leotard, Miss Tina doesn’t think much of that AT ALL, GIRLS!
Tavi started her blog at the age of 13 and now she goes around the world delivering keynote speeches on jodphurs, and runs a devastatingly successful ‘zine. And everyone’s like “Oh she’s so forward-thinking and achingly individualistic, from her adorably obstructive hair bow to her spaced-out band performances” – but she was 13 when she pulled this move in the front row at New York Fashion Week:
GO ON, T.
I’m only 3. Can you imagine how much I can piss off Anna Wintour if I start now?
A possible look for NYFW 2013. I’ll probably recreate the cake all over my face as an ironic silent commentary on body dysmorphia.
I could write with authority on any fashionable topic, really, but Phineas & Ferb is about to start and that’s easily my second-favourite show right now. So I’m going to end my first column with some simple universal advice. With the exception of Dooce’s much-maligned niece Cami, some unexpected eye furniture is always the answer when you want to give your outfit an au courant impact.
Please leave any questions in the comments. I may or may not ever bother to respond. It’s hard to get access to a computer around here, between those other three nerds, and also like I said earlier, Minnie’s Bowtique: I’m pretty devoted to it.
How much money did I just earn?
Pink and purple,