Before anyone gets all offended or preachy with me – it IS the internet after all – this isn’t a dig at ‘Real Bloggers’. Hell, I would sell my right kidney (it’s a bit broken so probably not much use to anyone anyway) to be half as popular, organised and picture-perfect as they are #justforfun #notagirlboss
Real Bloggers: Have been known to stand on tables in order to get a good foodie picture. Create rainbow smoothie bowls for Instagram, share prosecco Boomerangs weekly and bake drip cakes that Queen Mary Berry would be proud of.
Me: Accidentally takes a bite of food before documenting my posh meal then tries to get creative with pictures that omits the teeth marks. Burns cupcakes and detests prosecco.
Real Bloggers: Create candid pictures of themselves laughing/looking into the distance/drinking coffee. Flat lay experts. Has a semi-professional photographer (in the form of a blogger bestie or partner) on hand at all times.
Me: Gurns at the camera with my eyes shut as Adam complains loudly about being a reluctant blogger husband. Likes to use words like ‘divorce’ and ‘for fucks sake’ in the process. Flat lays are disturbed by one of the cats gate-crashing the party. Spills said coffee down my top.
Real Bloggers: Have homes that rival 5* hotels, marble counters and rose gold accessories galore. Sleep on a gifted Leesa mattress, have fresh peonies to hand and white walls/fairy lights/succulents in every room. Oh and they all own that La Redoute Afaw rug…
Me: Accidentally kills houseplants, is engaged in a constant battle to remove cat hair from the carpet and toast crumbs from the kitchen counters. Owns an Ikea sofa that needs new springs and our Asda rug may or may not contain some kind of living organism.
Hair and Beauty
Real Bloggers: Use high-end products, share daily make-up tutorials on YouTube. Sephora is their second home. Throws hair in a bun and looks incredible.
Me: Still using my Boots Seventeen BB cream and kohl liner. Gets ready in 15 minutes. Has roots for days. Throws hair in a bun and looks like Miss Trunchbull.
Real Bloggers: They appear to be BFF’s with everyone in attendance, mingling effortlessly with an air of confidence whilst taking arty photographs.
Me: Hides in the corner until I spot the one person I vaguely know then cling to them all day/night. Gets hammered off two free cocktails. Forgets to take any pictures.
Real Bloggers: Have an enviable stockpile of clothes, can pull off any trend and always look like they’ve just walked out of a professional photo studio, even on a Tuesday afternoon.
Me: Throws on the same pair of Primark jeans that I’ve had for two years. Tries to be fashionable and create new styles, end up looking like I fell out of a charity shop (which I probably did…).
Real Bloggers: Are experts at using Lightbox, own several Olympus Pen cameras, lens balls, iPhones, iMacs and other blogger tech essentials.
Me: Happy to take pictures with my Android phone and relies solely on the Valencia Insta filter.
Real Bloggers: Have themes and share perfected edited pictures in exotic locations. Every other one is a bikini shot. Pays to promote posts.
Me: A fellow blogger (with over 150k followers to be fair) once referred to my Instagram as ‘very organic’. Ouch. To be fair, she’s right. If you follow me on social, you’ll know that I’m all, ‘Hey, here’s my cat! Wanna see a picture of toast? I totally forgot to get dressed again today.’
Real Bloggers: Has business cards, uses Buffer religiously. Creates thoughtful, magazine-worthy posts and has a blog layout that’s so cool, it hurts. Content is planned six-months in advance with all awareness days and hashtags covered.
Me: Has no routine or marketing calendar, despite being paid to manage several client accounts in my day job (just to clarify, I do make the effort for them – I’m just lazy when it comes to my own blog #dontfireme). Accidentally shares Christmas posts in March after ignoring the settings on a WordPress plug-in.