As I spend another quiet afternoon at work writing reviews, correcting peoples' grammar and listening to Jeremy Kyle lay mercilessly into the lowlives of Britain, I, of course, have a blog window open. And in my travels, I stumbled once again across Godammit, I'm Mad.
Now, for those of you who clicked the link you'll see her give her own, unique opinion of one of the greatest blogging phenomenons of the last few years, Sea of Shoes, or 'The Luckiest Girl in the World, if you like Expensive Shoes'. Sea of Shoes has disabled the comment option on her blog because she isn't interested in other peoples' opinions, so Mad, known as Sister Wolf, offers us a chance to
vent leave comments for Sea. And there are comments left.
Reading them, lots of thoughts were swirling around in my tiny mind. Mostly amused ones, as several of the comments were bloody funny. Having spent a happy half-hour earlier in the day perusing a photo album of defaced Tory campaign posters (that's Conservative, UK general election to all non-Brits who are lucky enough not to be sick of the sight of an opinion poll), I was a giggly mood.
But then my inner Carrie Bradshaw kicked in.
That actually works quite well, because there are several things in common with Carrie and Sea. Both have incredible shoe collections. Both spend incredible amounts of money and are or will probably be in incredible amounts of debt as a result, but both currently have a nice rich man to bail them out. Both give the illusion of glamour and wealth. Sea's facade hasn't slipped as yet....
You really can be damned if you do and screwed if you don't. Sea doesn't have to endure damning comments on her daily, or often weekly (it's a busy life, doing nothing but shopping), which is her right, as it is the right of any blogger who posts their outfits to just be showcasing their style for the sake of it. But if you don't want people to see it, what's the point? I treasure my comments, as I'm still at the stage where I get one nice one and nothing else. I treasure followers and readers. But I wonder, if I ever reached the level Sea has, would I start to resent the circus?
Thankfully, I'll never know. There's nothing remarkable about me, my style, or my clothes. But having read the criticism of Sea on Sister Wolf's blog, I realise it's not really sensible to be inspired by someone who's style consists of excess, too much time spent shopping, and reams of designer shoes. I would be far more sensible to be inspired by a blogger who buys a week's worth of clothes with a £20 note, or who wears the same dress every day for a year for charity (what was the name of the journalist who did that?)
The vast swathe of blogs out there appears to be rendering them obselete. What is their purpose? Are they merely narcissistic photo diaries of our expenditure? A desperate substitude for a social life? The latest form of journal? The future of communication and expression? The last un-biased, un-censored area of freedom of speech?
Well, how can they be, when the writer disables comments?