so this is the problem with the internet age. also, me me me me me.

by Charlotte

I apparently only like three colors: blue, yellow and gray.  Pinterest told me so, so it’s basically true.  Sarai has started a great conversation over at the Coletterie about Pinterest and consumerism and all that jazz.  (Go read it here.)  I have a board where I pin things that I’d like to spend four months agonizing about buying.  Naturally, it’s called “Not Buying This.”  Here’s a peek:

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The color!  The variety!  I know; I find it stunning, too.  I suppose I appreciate Pinterest as kind of an anthropological document.  I like knowing what I liked seventeen weeks ago and separating the fleeting interests from the long-term infatuations.  Embarrassingly, I could totally spend the evening going through someone’s pins in time order imagining what they must have been thinking that time they posted twelve healthy living recipes or all of those redecorated living rooms.

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What a shock!  I like scarves and shoes and sweaters, with the occasional stud.  I’ve been trying to talk myself into a pair of lace-up something-or-others, but have  yet to take the plunge.  (Not sure how well I wear the Manic Pixie Dream Girl uniform.)  Let’s compare this to my fabric pinboard:

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A riot of color!  Well, not quite.  Now I’m going to think about why my fabric selections are more adventurous than my wardrobe selections.  Even when I leaf through my sewing and outfit inspiration boards I get the same neutral loop.  With fabrics, the color spectrum is expanded, but I tend to stick to florals and classical designs.  Ponder.

I wonder if someone can get some sort of “What does your Pinterest account say about you?” app doohickey going.  Perhaps this is something we’ll just reserve for therapy and blog posts, yes?

The next post will have an actual dress in it, showcased on my actual body.  I had to give my mum time to recover from the last post’s photos.  (Her: [gasp of horror] Bunny, you have to take that last picture down.  Please, I’m begging you.  Me: [cackling]  Granted, my lack of shame probably means I will never have a real job or date ever again, but who needs one of those anyway?) (Oh, parentheses.  I just can’t quit you (all).)

What do you think Pinterest account says about you?  Does it say anything?  Am I just an insomniac mining for content?  Don’t answer that.

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