If Loving Fall Makes Me Basic, Then I Guess That's What I Am

I look forward to fall every year. If I could, I would wear leggings and sweaters everyday. I really love boots (even though very rarely do they fit my legs correctly). I covet scarves and thick knitted socks and cable knit sweaters. I run a stupidly popular Fall-themed tumblr blog. I anxiously wait for Pumpkin Spice Latte season at Starbucks (but not because I love Pumpkin Spice Lattes). I just really love Fall and I always have. 

Loving fall seems to have become a bit of a "thing" recently. Perhaps it's the spread and scope of the internet, or the fact that we are all vaguely competing with each other via social media over who has the most covetable life, but it just seems that people say "I'm SO excited for Fall" way more than they used to. There are whole groups of "Fall people" who I never would have labeled as fall people previously. Having known them since high school or college, I would have thought they purely lovers to the spring or summer, sun worshippers who function best in teeny-tiny shorts and tank tops. 

My love of fall stems from two things: my utter contempt for the summer and my birthday. My birthday is October 20, so I'm firmly "team fall" when it comes to the best time of year for birthdays. And I've always hated summer. Recently, I finally decided that the reason I always hated summer was because summer time was a stretch of three months of loneliness for me as a kid. Going to private school in a different town from where I lived meant I couldn't really just pop over to my friends for a visit. This might mean that in a summer, I might see my friends once, if at all, in that long stretch of three months--which meant I started every single school year feeling like the new kid. Being lonely during the summer was part of who I was, just another part of my personality. Summer's sucked, but fall meant friendships again. 

Get Off My Internets famously has a forum where bloggers are called out for who mentions fall earliest. I actually think this is hilarious because some people start prepping for fall in, like, July. As much as I'd like to be one of those people, I just physically can't and the idea of publicly discussing my desire for fall seems to edge on the side of "too much." 

Loving fall has become one of the checkboxes of being basic. Do you love leggings, Uggs/boots, and Starbucks? Well then, you might just be basic. 

This puts fall lovers who are perhaps not basic at heart in a strange position: how can you celebrate the start of September (the meteorological start of fall) without being annoyingly basic? 

The fact is, in the age of the internet, you can't. If you love fall, there is always going to be a summer lover glaring at you as you unpack Halloween decorations on September 1st, 12:01am, and pull your sweaters out of storage. There is always going to be one person who wonders why you can't just appreciate the season that's happening. There's always going to be one Debbie Downer, or one person who hates autumn, or one person who just doesn't like seeing other people excited. It doesn't make them bad. Just like loving fall, and wearing boot socks in 90-degree September weather, doesn't make you crazy. 

There is also one important thing to remember: it's ok to like things, even if they're kind of lame. I fully admit my love for fall, for salted caramel mochas from Starbucks (yes, I know they are about 85% syrup; yes, I know they contain about a day's worth of calories; no, I do not care, they taste amazing), for off-brand Uggs, for boot socks and leggings and sweaters. I rush into fall because it's my favorite season and if that makes me basic, then I guess I'm pretty basic... but at least I'm having fun, right? 

Oh No, My Shoes Don't Fit

On Monday, I put on my plaid print maternity dress (not my favorite) and a denim jacket. Minimum effort for maximum effect, which is really all I can ask from maternity clothes these days. For the past few weeks, I have found myself wearing the same pair of shoes every single day: my blue and white striped loafers that I impulse bought from Old Navy. They are already worn in, with embarrassing prints on the inside, and scuffed up somewhat badly. I made myself promise that I wouldn't wear my striped flats again. 

Instead, I put on a pair of strappy, studded, flat sandals that I've owned since the summer of 2010. They have served me well as a go-to, slip on sandal in the summer months... and they've always been a smidge too big, flopping away from my foot on the inside.

Monday morning, I slipped on these old, trusty sandals as not my first choice, but rather my last one. I would have preferred to wear a wedge, but my sore feet can't really handle walking even my 1-block walk in them. I put them on, drove to work, and worked 8 hours. 

Throughout my workday, I kept noticing my feet feeling, well, number. Especially the toes. But my office gets pretty cold, especially with air conditioning, so I moved my feet around and told myself to ignore it. The feeling got more and more intense until I left around 3pm. 

It wasn't until I was standing in the elevator and looking down at my feet that I realized the straps of my sandals that travel across the base of my toes were, well, nearly imbedded in my foot. I wiggled my feet around, pushed my sandals back a little. They moved, but my toes were horribly constricted and looked like fat little piggies, perfectly bright pink. 

As I walked to the parking garage (and thus, my car), my feet started to ache, the constricting strap cutting into my toes and making every step painful. 

My stupid feet. My stupid, fat feet! I wanted to scream. When I got to my car, I loaded my purse and lunch bag into the passenger seat, then promptly tore off my sandals and threw them on the floor of my car. I was mad. 

It was a foot betrayal. 

I drove how barefoot, feeling excited and free with my feet less constricted--and really happy that the feeling of numbness quickly disappeared from my poor toes. But I also found myself thinking: This can't happen. 

I can handle my clothes getting smaller. We all expect that in pregnancy, right? You can't wear your normal jeans or your favorite t-shirt or most of your underwear drawer. 

But you can always wear your shoes. 

My tiny shoe size has always been a comfort to me. Wearing a size 4-6 reminds me that my body has the potential to be small. No matter how unhappy I might be with my size 8 or 10 pants or my size L top, I knew that my feet were small. Society could suck it--I have small feet!!

Realizing, with a sudden and painful stab (like that of constricted toes), that my shoe size is changing. Is it swollen feet? (They're puffy, but not that puffy.) Is it the tendons in my feet shifting? (Maybe? Is that a thing?) Are my feet just growing with the rest of me, rebelling against what I've done purposefully? 

I can't fit into any of my favorite kitten heel shoes (my high heel of choice is, hilariously, a teeny tiny kitten heel). I can't fit into some of my smaller, more narrow flats. And most of my sandals cut into my puffy little feat. 

But I can wear my loafers. Trusty loafers. They never fail to disappoint, do they? Except that loafers don't go with every outfit and, come fall, it would be nice to wear other closed toe shoes. 

As soon as I got home Monday (and stopped hyperventilating), I found myself staring into the hallway closet where I store my shoes. Flats and boots and sandals and heels. I have so many shoes. So many teeny tiny shoes, size 4s or 5s, 6s, a few 7s. So many that I can't fit into, that make my feet look like bread that's proofed too long. 

In times of distress, I find that reorganizing always helps. So I did that. I looked at all my shoes; I counted them (don't ask how many, please don't); I organized them into two piles, too small and fit ok. I organized them by the mere fact of whether I could still wear them or now. I found myself comforted by the number that I could still fit my foot into (comfortably). More than just a few pairs of loafers: most of my non-pointed toe flats, some heels, my boots. 

It's hard to let go of an old fact about myself. I feel defined by the things I've always thought myself to be: a writer; a reader; a good student; a girl who wore a small size of shoe. It's hard to tell myself that there are other things that define me, more important things than my feet, and that a few pairs of too-small shoes aren't that big of a deal... but then I remember, I really love my shoe collection. 

How to Make a Baby Planner

For months, I had a spare Filofax cover floating around. I ordered it last year and promptly realized that it was too small for my handwriting and I didn't like any of the available Filofax calendars. (I know, I know, I'm picky.) I dismantled it and waited to use it for something useful. I follow a lot of #plannergirls on Instagram, which has given me lots of ideas for how to use spare planner covers and more. (Although, I don't see myself scrapbooking my planners so intricately anytime soon, although I love looking at the creations of others!) After I got pregnant, I knew that it would be a great idea to make a planner for my pregnancy and the baby. 

I'd looked through Pinterest trying to find a good tutorial or at least rundown of how another mom made a baby planner... but I couldn't find anything quite like I wanted. I decided to rough it and ended up making 5 tabs for myself: Basics (for to do lists, contact information, etc.), Hospital, Baby, Post-Partum, and Notes & Questions. 

I used a set of tabs that came with my original Filofax diary to trace onto some scrapbooking paper. After cutting them out, I used a hand punch to punch them for the Filofax cover. I used some stickers from a Simple Stories Baby Boy set to make the tabs, although they look a little wonky on the first one (it was my first try, what can I say?). 

From there, I separated each tab into some separate sections.

Basics includes a page of basic information about Danny & I (our birthdates), my doctor, my hospital of choice, and potential emergency contacts (my mom, Danny's parents). Then, I have sections for To Do lists, both pre-baby and post-baby. The basics section is basically a place for me to jot down things I need to remember to do or write a list of things Forrest really, actually still needs (a changing table pad, a carseat, a stroller) without having a million post-it notes floating around my house. 

Hospital has further information about my choice of hospital (including any notes I write down from my hospital tours, since my doctor delivers are two totally different area hospitals), as well as my birth plan, a packing list, and notes for Danny. Basically, I wanted to make sure that I have all my medical information and wishes written down in one place because, while I will remember them, Danny may not. 

Baby has a section for first stats, medical information, and any other notes I might need to write down and keep track of. This section also has a feeding log (to keep track of feeding times and breastfeeding concerns), as well as a diaper log. (If you're wondering why the "Name" section of Baby Stats is blank, it's because there is always the minute possibility that the baby will be a girl and therefore, not named Forrest. Gender determination is still sometimes incorrect.) 

Post-partum is a pending section: mostly, I'll use it for notes from the doctors, any instructions I might receive, and questions I might have. 

Notes & Questions is my most-used section right now! Whenever I think of a question for my doctor, I write it down here. Whenever I notice Forrest kicking more than usual, I write it down (as well as anything that preceded it, such as drinking a soda or eating ice cream). It's basically where I record anything that might be important for my upcoming appointments. 

If I hadn't had this Filofax lying around, I probably would have used a plain notebook (with dividers) to make a working baby notebook, but I'm glad I decided to repurpose a Filofax. It's the perfect size to carry around and I don't have to worry about buying diary refills for it... I can just cut down notebook paper or other loose leaf paper to use in it. I've found a lot of ways to keep myself organized lately, and this is just another way that I keep my memory in check. 

My Pregnancy Essentials

Someday, I'll have something to write about that isn't pregnancy related. I swore I wasn't going to be one of those annoying pregnant women who only talk about being pregnant--but it's weird how all-encompassing pregnancy can become, even right from the beginning. If you're sick, there is no escaping the fact that you're pregnant. Once you start to show, the gig is really up: your mobility is effected, as is your body chemistry and more. 

I meant to write this post earlier, but I'm glad I procrastinated on it. There are many things that people will claim are "essential" to pregnancy (and that some people never use once). That's because nearly every pregnancy is different: what works for some women doesn't work for others. Some women never have to buy maternity clothes; some need them starting in the first trimester. I could list examples for ages. You don't really know what you'll need until you, well, need it, but I found a lot of value it learning what other people used to help them through. Here are just a few things I wouldn't have made it through the last 23 weeks without*. 

(*I will be writing an updated list, probably, once Forrest is born.) 

1. A heating pad.

From about 11 weeks to 16 weeks, I had the worst lower back lumbar pain. At first, I thought it was that terrifying back pain they tell you to watch for if you're having spotting and/or bleeding... but it wasn't. It lasted for about the same length of time as my morning sickness: let me tell you, it was super fun to have the two combined! My back perpetually ached as if I'd moved houses every single day, but a heating pad helped immensely. Recently, my back pain has returned, this time in a different spot (mid-back) thanks to pressure from Forrest. So my heating pad has made a return. I got mine at Target for $25 and it has truly the ugliest mossy green cover slip (that is terribly matted now), but I could really care less: I love it and refuse to part with it. I take it everywhere. 

2. B12 supplements.

Note: If you're pregnant, please don't just start taking B12 if you're pregnant; talk to your doctor first. That goes with any vitamin or medication suggested by any blog post like this one! 

I used B12 in combination with Unisom to help my morning sickness. I really do not know how I could have made it through without it. Originally, my doctor prescribed me Diclegis, which is basically a single-tablet version that combines the active ingredients of both B12 and Unisom. However, my insurance didn't cover it (and it's about $600 for 30 days worth), so I survived on samples until the 25mg B12 I'd ordered from Amazon arrived. For me, it was the simplest way to handle my morning sickness... and the Unisom helped with my insomnia. 

3. New underwear. 

As I've mentioned before, certain waistbands grew to be really uncomfortable to me. Anything that hits at a certain spot presses on my bladder and/or encourages Forrest to kick incessantly at that area. Early on, I had to resort to new types of underwear to keep myself comfortable. I really like Victoria's Secret "shortie panty" (basically, high-waisted boy shorts). I also really like Aerie's "girly shorts". Both brands are incredible comfortable and hit just high enough to avoid that uncomfortable bladder spot; also, their waistbands aren't binding, so they don't get in and cause muffin top or just general discomfort. 

4. Sun protection of all kinds. 

"Your skin reacts to the sun so differently when you're pregnant!" I read that sentence, in a hundred different ways, multiple times early in my pregnancy and I really didn't believe it. Then I got a sunburn. Firstly, I got sunburned on a part of my skin that A. was not really showing and B. I had definitely put sunscreen son. Secondly, the sunburn lasted, bright red and ugly, for two weeks. Only recently has my skin started to fade to a slight tan-ish color; I'm hoping it disappears soon. So now I cover myself in a coat of sunscreen right out of the shower if I know I'm going to be outside for any length of time; I carry a little bottle of sunscreen everywhere; and I try my best to stay in the shade even if I am outside. It's been so hot lately that I can't really bother with wearing long sleeves or long pants, but I do try to find ways to keep my skin protected. Because that two-week sunburn really sucked. 

5. Lotion.

Along with sunburns, my skin has been incredibly dry since around 11 weeks. This is really strange for me as I typically have very oily (facial) skin and I've never really had to bother with having to put lotion on my arms and legs. I often did just for fun, however. I've used almost an entire jar of Burt's Bee Mama Bee Butter, as well as nearly half a brand new bottle of Bath & Body Works lotion. Everyday I use more lotion than I have probably used in the average week and a half pre-pregnancy. 

6. Bullet journaling. 

I don't mention this very often, but I use bullet journaling at work to keep my deadlines and to do lists straight. I have used two Moleskine notebooks in a year of work and I'm on my third now. With pregnancy, my previously amazing memory disappeared; if I don't write down a task or something someone tells me, I will almost always forget it within 10 minutes... sometimes when they are still in the same room! Obviously, that's embarrassing. I'm really glad I got into the habit of bullet journaling pre-pregnancy because it's been a lifesaver with remembering tasks at work (not that there have not been some slip ups). Everyone bullet journals a little bit differently, so here is a search on Pinterest. Maybe someday I'll write a post on how I bullet journal, but alas... not today. (Mainly, I don't use fancy symbols for my to do lists; that is way too much work!) 

A few examples of things I didn't need or use: body pillows; a belly band; those morning sickness lollipops (they cut up your mouth); Seabands; and baby apps (although I downloaded a ton of them). 

Fellow pregnant ladies & mommas, what were your pregnancy essentials? 

5 Reasons to Start Keeping a Journal Today

I started keeping journals not long after I started reading the Amelia series of books by Marissa Moss. (If you love 1990s style websites, do yourself a favor and definitely click that link!) I can basically judge a person's character depending on if they read the Amelia book popularized by American Girl Magazine in the late 90s and early 00s. If you haven't read them, I take pity on you, but you need to get on Amazon and start ordering. Trust me on that one. 

I have storage containers full of journals. Journals upon journals upon journals. At least 100 of them. At least. I was not very good at keeping things in order and I flitted between notebooks and diaries based on which one was prettiest or newest. Some are half empty. As I got older, they became more ornate; in  high school, I all about filling my notebooks with intricate pencil drawings, printed photos from the internet, and collages. In college, I was a straight writer: no frills, no fuss. By my senior year, I was drawing intricate dates, writing long entries, including random lists (ala Colonel Gentleman from the Venture Bros, embarrassingly enough), pictures, ticket stubs, and more. Part-scrapbook, part journal, I hit the journal sweet spot. 

I've continued my journal habit for about 16 years, if I guess that I started legitimately writing journals at 10 or 11. That's pretty impressive. I'm not an "everyday" kind of journal writer. I often forget or write about things that happened weeks ago. In general, my journal entries have always been more about my feelings than about what I strictly did that day or recounting conversations. I collect things: lists of books, sticky notes, general lists, disorder, whatever. I like my journals to feel as messy and disorganized as my life. 

As much as I love journaling, I've always resented those "journal your way to happiness!!" blog posts. Journaling can definitely help get rid of negative or harmful emotions, but it's not a cure all. That's for sure. If journaling really allowed you to realize your greatest dreams with simply writing about it, I would be a world famous author who was 6'1" and looked like Kendall Jenner by now. 

There are lots of valid reasons to keep a journal. Here are five: 

1. People who write down things they are thankful for are happier. 

Ok, this is a proven fact: if you write down a few things that were good about your day, or that you are thankful for from your day, you'll become a happier person. Basically, researchers did a study where they split a group in half; one half wrote down five positive things from their day and the other half wrote down five negative things from their day. It was a journal experiment and the results were that the group who wrote down positive things were happier people at the end of the study. Not too shabby, huh? If you're looking to find little ways to improve your life, writing down a list of things you are thankful for or positive events from your day (even on a rotten, horrible, no-good day) can be a good first step. 

2. It's fun to look back on your past self and laugh (or cry). 

Some of my best, funniest writing happened when I was 16. Why? Because my journals from my sophomore and junior years of high school are hilariously melodramatic. They're so boring, but looking back makes me appreciate how I somehow managed to be intelligent and really stupid at the same time. I'm sure this will continue to be a theme as I get older. Someday, when I'm 50, I'll look back my blog posts and journals and think, "What is wrong with you?" 

3. It's relaxing. 

I don't buy into the "journaling will make you so happy" mumbo-jumbo, but man... decorating a journal page and writing even just a paragraph can be a hugely relaxing activity after a long day of work. Sometimes, I find myself feeling on edge and cranky, and I slowly realize that what I really, really need is 45 minutes to myself to doodle, decorate, and journal. 

4. It can improve your memory. 

Everyday, I write a few of the same lists: things I need to do; things I've done; and things I've learned. As I write those daily lists, I find that I am better able to remember everything I have to do and everything I've already done. And I retain information better. Research has shown that list-makers (those list obsessed amongst us) have better memories, probably because physically writing information down (not typing it!) aids in memory retention. 

5. You create a record for your family and children. 

Ok, it doesn't matter if you have kids right now or not. But by keeping journals, you keep somewhat of a record of your life for your children, grandchildren, and distant relatives. How cool is that? Have you ever gotten a chance to read a great-great-grandfather's journals or ledgers before? Isn't it fun? I hope to leave something more than a Facebook page behind for future generations, which is part of why I keep journals. 

Give Me All Your Breakfast Foods: Or, Why We Shouldn't Be Afraid to Try New Things

My mom would probably be the first to lament my hatred of breakfast as a child. I distinctly remember going through a phase where all I would eat was chocolate chip Costco muffins--but I only ate them 1) microwaved and 2) upside down. Oh and 3) I only ate the bottom half, never the top because the texture freaked me out. No, I don't know what was wrong with me.

I distinctly remember tipping the top parts of Costco muffins into the trashcan in my family's kitchen, the thunk of it against the garbage bag, then carrying my plate to the sink. What a waste. 

Other weird things I ate for breakfast included burnt toast (something I still have an affinity for) and mini-bagels microwaved with slices of American cheese inside (something I would still eat today if it didn't fill me with shame). I would eat pancakes, but only with butter, no syrup. I would eat scrambled eggs only in a sandwich with toast, never on their own. I didn't like bacon or sausage. I liked cinnamon rolls, but, like giant Costco muffins, that's not really a balanced breakfast. I ate Eggo waffles, but like pancakes, only with butter. I only liked dry cereal and usually only Cheerios or fruity, sugar-coated cereals--but I didn't like eating them for breakfast.

I was a breakfast weirdo, an anomaly in breakfast-obsessed America. In general, I just hated breakfast. I never felt hungry in the mornings and none of the food appealed to me. I went through most of middle school and high school never eating breakfast--not because I didn't have time, but usually because I didn't like any of the foods available to me. 

It wasn't until my sophomore year when I took a walking/jogging class in the accelerated 6-week term that I started eating breakfast consistently. This was also when I started to get really weird about logging, or writing down, everything I ate, a habit that continues to haunt me (I write, as a reminder on my phone chirps so I remember to log my lunch into LoseIt! so I can track my protein intake). After jogging a mile or more, I knew I had to eat breakfast or I would slowly transform into a werewolf throughout my Shakespearean literature class. Just kidding, but seriously: I would get cranky. 

While I recognized my need to eat breakfast, I still didn't necessarily like breakfast foods. At least, not until Danny came to live with me, exactly three years ago. 

Danny is a breakfast eater, especially on the weekends. When he moved in, I would make breakfasts on the weekends and that's when I started to enjoy them. 

I'm not sure when the switch happened. I can't exactly pinpoint when I started to appreciate pancakes or waffles or eggs-sans-toast, but it happened. Something just changed. I even started to like bacon and sausage. 

Being a lifelong picky eater, it's always weird how one day something you always hated becomes something you don't really mind. Like red onion: I've always avoided raw red onion, but six months ago, I ate a sandwich with raw red onion on it and... I didn't die. It tasted good. Why am I so difficult with food? 

I do remember the first day I tried a fried egg. I've never been a big egg eater--and to be completely honest, I don't like eating eggs plain, period--and I'd always rejected fried eggs. I'd learned to make them for Danny, but I never ate them myself. However, when I was between jobs last year, I convinced myself that trying new things would be good for me. So I ate a fried egg... and I loved it. 

Obvious statement alert: tastes change. Things I once thought were disgusting, I now love (and I'm sure being pregnant isn't helping this) and things I once loved, I now find revolting. When I was 14, I redecorated my room to feature orange and teal flowers (I loved orange obsessively at this age). The idea of having an orange and teal room these days sends me into a panic. How did I sleep with orange curtains, orange bedding, and teal accents? Just as my taste in decor has changed, so has my actual, literal taste. 

I think too often picky eaters (like myself) are terrified to try things that feature foods they've always disliked... even if they don't really remember why they started disliking that food. They (and not just "they", but "we" to include me) are afraid to simply try a new thing. All it took for me to start enjoying, and eating, breakfast was to try it, to try different foods, from fried eggs to bacon to pancakes with syrup. It sounds basic as all hell, but to the picky eater, it can be monumentally hard. 

You've probably clued into the fact, by now, that I'm not just talking about picky eaters needing to try new things. It's just the best metaphor available, because lots of people are picky eaters. Picky eaters often spend their time trying to figure out how to avoid the foods they don't like and are unwilling to try again. They're terrified of having a bad experience. 

But if I had been unwilling to try breakfast (waaaay back in June 2012) when Danny came to live with me, I would have never experienced the joy of lazy weekend breakfasts. And what kind of life would that be? 

All I'm saying is, trying something new every once and while, with no schedule or no motivation to change, can be a really, really positive thing. 

On Scrapbooking With Less

I love scrapbooking blogs. 

In fact, I would say they are one of my favorite niche blogs to read. Over the past six months, as I've moved away from fashion and beauty blogging, I've followed more and more scrapbooking and organizing blogs and Instagram accounts. Maybe it's the baby, or maybe it's that I'm returning to my first favorite hobby. But either way, I've gotten into scrapbooking again for the first time in a long time. 

However, there seems to be an overwhelming theme to most scrapbooking blogs (and organizing blogs, now that I think about it). What's that theme? Acquiring stuff. 

Funny enough, this is one of the things that made me a little, well, exhausted with fashion blogs and then beauty blogs. The constant acquiring of new things: new tops and skirts and shorts and dresses and belts and purses; new foundations, powders, blushes, bronzers, lipsticks, blushes, eyeshadows, palettes, and nail polishes. It gets exhausting to even think about keeping up with the rate at which some bloggers just seem to acquire. Some stuff might come from sponsors, but it still seems like the bulk of what bloggers write about is... stuff they bought with their hard earned cash. And if you add up the totals at the end of the day, the numbers aren't pretty. 

One beauty blogger that I follow spend about $500 in one week. In one week on random dupe purchases, multiples of products she already owned, and other random beauty supplies. She admitted in a video to owning over 50 bottles of lotion, but she'd still bought three new tubs of Body Shop body cream. She also admitted to owning an endless supply of lip scrubs and lip balms, but had bought five more of both in the same week. She just wanted to review them, she said, for us, her viewers and readers. But did she really? Or was the desire more for the product? 

There is nothing wrong with acquiring things. My thought is if you like something and use it, you should buy it. But I've started to get very wary (and this might be because I'm an adult with bills to pay, who simply can't afford to drop the equivalent of a mortgage payment on lotion that I already own) of bloggers that seem to just spend, spend, spend. Bloggers can definitely make good money from blogging--but they can't make that much money. 

It seems like a new way to showcase, and excuse, a shopping addiction. It also seems like a weird competition: who can review the newest thing first? Who can have the most products in the most pristine condition (because really when you have 20 different blushes, you can always photograph one looking pretty and new)? 

That's why I stopped reading a lot of beauty and fashion bloggers. 

I didn't expect to see the same kind of frivolous spending among scrapbooking bloggers, but I was wrong. At first, I didn't notice: as I scrolled through my Instagram feed, I ooohed and aaahed over the meticulously decorated and scrapped planners, the gorgeous Project Life pages, the books, the washi tape, the stickers. Then, I started to notice something. I started to keep count. 

A popular trend among scrapbooking blogs is planners. Yes, planners. Those pre-dated little books you can buy in a variety of shapes, sizes, orientations with different timelines and what have you. Super popular among scrapbookers. From Filofaxes to Erin Condren planners, some people do some amazing things with them. 

But as I started to do a counting experiment: in one Instagram account of one scrapbooking blogger, I counted 20 different planners. She owns 20 different planners... and scrapbooks in each. and. every. single. one. In her mind, each planners serves a different purpose: this one records her appointments; this one, she journals about her day (this is separate from her scrapbook journal and her visual journal and her Project Life scrapbook and... and...); this one, she uses just when she's camping; this one, for her kids; this one, to keep track of her expenses; this one, for another thing; this one, just because she likes it. It's exhausting. How can she keep up? I barely have time to write a paragraph in my journal!

That wasn't the end of it either: there seemed to be an endless list of things she'd bought "just to try." Scrapbooking subscription boxes. Piles of Midori folders. Different Filofaxes. Every single Project Life kit available. Sticker printers. Label makers. The Cricut machine. It wasn't just planners. It was everything. And then, finding different and creative ways to organize everything, which of course included buying more stuff: Ikea carts, Container store desks and shelves, and more.  

I had unwittingly stumbled into the same kind of niche as before: the niche of purchasing new. Instead of focusing on scrapbooking and showing the pieces of art you can create in the simple space of a journal or planner, bloggers instead get caught in the trap of having something new to show off, to demonstrate, to review.

The fun thing about scrapbooking is that you can use basically anything to do it: pictures, washi tape, notebook paper, Sharpies, pressed flowers, leaves. You don't need to buy 100 different kinds of stickers. You don't need 27 different rolls of washi tape. You don't need all this stuff. In trying to hard to document life, you spend so much time doing it that it almost feels like you don't have much of a life to document. The most fun part of scrapbooking is doing it after a long period of not being able to. Those weekends of binge scrapbooking are so fun and relaxing! 

And I felt like a lot of the blogs and Instagram accounts I had followed had lost that. They'd lost the simplicity and fun of scrapbooking from, well, scraps. That's why it's called scrapbooking! While I oohed and aahed over the pieces they created, something about them started to feel hollow. While they are creative and beautiful, they also seem a bit empty, a bit lacking. There is something overly processed about them, even though they're handmade. It's probably because I realize now that they aren't created just to create; they're created for the process of showing, of demonstrating, of reviewing another purchase. And that's a bit sad, isn't it? 

I love Project Life and Simple Stories packs. I love them because they reduce a lot of the stuff you need and you can easily mix and match pieces and cards. I don't feel the need to buy a bunch of new packs when I want to start a new project. I ordered $20 worth of new stuff for my baby scrapbook (only because I'd simply run out of things for it). I keep my scrapbooking hoard to a minimum (and I try to keep it minimally organized). I'm proud of my scrapbooking hobby and my abilities in it (it's one of the simplest art forms to get into), but I worry about falling into the trap of acquisition, the siren call of wanting to try the newest planner, the newest pens, the new stickers or buttons or whatever. 

I've set rules for myself. As much as I want to scrapbook in planners (because they do really look cool), something about that just seems to... time consuming. I only buy new pieces when I start a new album--and I only start a new album for a major life event. I have a scrapbook for my Disney vacation, my wedding, my honeymoon, the baby. I want to start a general (big) scrapbook for everyday bits and pieces: weekend trips, barbecues, documenting my pregnancy. Otherwise, I'll do a little scrapbooking in my journal, but nothing extreme, nothing too hardcore. I'll do listing challenges and make albums out of leftovers and bits and pieces. I won't go overboard. I won't order 30 different planners. 

Ultimately, this is a sign of the problems with niche blogging. Ultimately, the niches begin to revolve more and more around competition, over who has what and who has reviewed what (and who reviewed it first). It becomes about acquisition. It doesn't matter the niche. It seems to happen everywhere. But that doesn't mean you should give in to it. 

"Studyblrs" Make Me Wish I Was Still In School

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They started popping up on my dashboard on Tumblr a few months ago. Studyblrs. Pictures of notebooks with meticulously illustrated notes, carefully framed with still life objects: carefully strewn pens, a calculator, mason jars. 

Studyblrs. Or study blogs.

Whatever your preferred terminology, they are essentially a community of students (most of them are female) that are just really, really into studying (or "revising" as the British studyblrs say). Most are in high school or their first years of college. Most have an obsessive goal they are attempting to reach: a certain GPA, a certain college or university, a career. They're dedicated and man, do they show it. 

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As a teenager and college student, I was very dedicated to school--and I was also kind of a weirdo about my notes. However, I never got the urge to illustrate my notes, or decorate them with stickers, or to admit to spending hours upon hours rewriting, studying, and, essentially, doodling. I had Netflix to watch, I guess. 

But part of me wishes I hadn't just been weird about taking notes--but that I had made them beautiful enough to keep. I mean, my notes were mostly a smeared frenzy of half-cursive, half-print with random highlighting and confusing bullet points. Sometimes, I made an effort, but sometimes, I just needed the information. And sometimes I, horror upon horror, typed up my notes, turning them into Times New Roman boring outlines. Perfect for studying, but not really cute for posting on a dedicated studying blog. 

Not only do studyblrs spend hours revising/studying, writing out their notes, reading, and more, they also dispense advice on their blogs, from specific studying techniques to notebook and pen reviews to how to study for specific subjects and tests. (The SATs, ACTs, and British GSCEs are a big factor in many studyblrs.) Some blogs are huge. One of my favorites, Revise or Die, has a massive following, answering anonymously submitted questions several times a day; she also posts printables, illustrated notes sheets, her own study set ups, reviews, and more. She also dispenses advice on the best pens to use, her preferred notebooks, and recommendations for software. For being so young, she's incredibly knowledgeable and helpful--way more than I would have been as a teenager! 

It's amazing that such a community of high achievement has popped up on, of all places, Tumblr and it's nice to see how many notes each post gets. It's comforting to think that students still care deeply about their grades and their future. 

I was never very good at doodling, though, when I think about it; I'm not very talented in artistic methods that don't involve pre-made elements (scrapbooking, basic graphic design). I never would have been a successful studyblr, but that doesn't stop me from wishing, more than anything else, there had been such a community when I was in school and could have used their advice.