I wonder, how sincere you think bloggers are. I know I may be shooting myself in the foot with this question, but it's been occupying my mind lately. Blogs were originally meant as journals for whomever had internet access and wanted to share their thoughts or sources of inspiration with the world: a democratic way to publish material without going through editors, and a very fast method to reach audiences.
But after the hundreds, and then the thousands, reach a webpage, PR people are quick to follow. The personal space has become a marketing platform. Even if all you see from afar is sparkle, at close range you can see the bulbs and the wires. Money joins the pulse of electricity.
Though of course privacy is another thing. Anyone, with or without an online diary, keeps certain things out of conversations. What remains part them are driven by other persuasions.
There are some people who prefer to remain opaque.
Some bloggers appear/sound more approachable than others.
Aren't Makati's Christmas lights beautiful? Not at all flashy, even if a little cold.
Which is what I sometimes feel when wind blows through the low collar of my kurta-inspired shirt, first worn last July. I think this cotton jacket matches it better than the previous nylon piece.
So what does this all mean? Look at the orange-colored gas inside the bulbs, which indicate the ebb and flow of energy: that is how my days have gone. I love the season because things appear in higher contrast; I hate it because it is harder to disappear from things.
Many times I wonder why I became a blogger at all. Sometimes I just want to show you some stuff that make me (even momentarily) happy, like this rose-patterened pair of slippers made out of hairy bristles.
Most of the time I prefer merely to be a conduit.
Shirt, Zara; jeans, Bench; belt, Brave Beltoworks; jacket, Muji; slippers, thrifted
Outfit photos, Annalyn Piamonte
More pictures on my visual diary: Draft of Shadows