A Relationship Reborn
5 minute read
I began a serious relationship about two months ago. I entered into it tentatively, reluctantly, fearfully even, but with the understanding that if I didn’t put myself out there, I’d probably regret it. It’s been fun at times, emotionally rewarding at others, challenging always – especially for someone like me who is happy to retreat to their own company – but most of all it’s been enlightening.
The relationship I speak of is with Instagram. I began to engage with the platform seriously last November. I’d had an on/off affair with it for years before this, but working for myself, as a writer and brand consultant, I realised visibility was the key to winning clients and building a business. I’ve never wanted a profile. I’ve never needed to be seen. But I want to work and I want to be successful on my own terms, so it seems that this is what’s required in the world of fashion and media. As Denzel Washington said, “Do what you gotta do, to do what you wanna do.”
When I began my career back in the late nineties in London, I was a sub-editor – the faceless, nameless individual on a magazine who perfects the copy journalists submit and writes the headlines, intros and captions; I brought the polish you might say. If I was to describe these journalists as the Indianna Joneses of the magazine world, out in the field unearthing interesting finds, then I was the Marcus Brody, working behind the scenes to present these gems to the public in the best possible light. It wasn’t a sexy, cool or particularly covetable role, but I loved it, partly because it was solely about the work and not about me.
But fast forward almost 25 years and “All changed, changed utterly” as Yeats soberly put it. So after months (years?) bemoaning the digital revolution, its effect on my career and the uncertainty of how to navigate this world of selfies and self-promotion, I decided to give myself a better chance of success by giving Instagram a chance.
After all, if I’ve learned anything in midlife, it’s that you have to give someone (or in this case, something) a chance before you decide they’re not worth it.
Like agreeing to a blind date, the first ‘considered’ (read staged) photograph I took for my Instagram feed in my new studio gave me a flushed face and butterflies in my tummy. I immediately began to talk myself out of it. I could just not bother. Nobody was forcing me to do this. Who would want to see me in an oversized jumper and boyish trousers anyway? This look wasn’t glamorous, sexy, avant garde or even from the current collections. But it was very me. Would anyone care?
Actress Zoe Kravitz once said that when it comes to fashion, you have to be prepared to fall flat on your face. Ditto, with Instagram. When I first read that quote, it resonated with me hugely because many of us – myself included – are fearful, not so much of actually falling flat on our faces, but of doing it publicly. We imagine being metaphorically stoned by the eye rolls and sniggers of others until our spirit is broken. I’m pretty sure bones heal far quicker than self-belief.
I thought about what Kravitz said while contemplating posting my picture, and it prompted me to remember that throughout my 25-year-career I have fallen flat on my face, or certainly tripped up embarrassingly as you would on a piece of broken pavement. This is because I’ve taken every opportunity that has come my way, for better or worse. I’ve been a writer, editor, stylist, creative director, podcaster, event MC, brand consultant, blogger, vlogger, copywriter, personal shopper, mentor, tutor. With some, I’ve had enormous success, with others less so. But I’ve always had a go because what I’ve never wanted to be is an armchair critic. So how can I sit at home critiquing other women’s feeds now if I’m not prepared to have a proper go myself, I thought? On this basis, I posted the picture, cringed a little, and hoped I hadn’t made a fool of myself.
If I learned what Charlie Chaplin knew to his enormous good fortune: “It takes courage to make a fool of yourself”, I also discovered that by posting this picture, I’d taken a huge step towards shaking off the shame, which Brené Brown describes as “...the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging” that dogs me. You see, there has always been a cajoling voice inside my head coaxing me to give #ootd a try; to show off what I think I’m good at; to compete in that virtual world of #styleideasdaily.
But our inner critic always shouts louder, doesn’t it? That devil on my shoulder can kill any squeal of self-belief quicker than my dog can destroy the squeak in her new toy.
But 45 Instagram outfit posts later, I’ve learned that I do belong. Nobody has thrown virtual rotten tomatoes at me, let alone stones. In fact, the experience has confirmed what I always knew but forgot in the midst of my own uncontrollable fears and insecurities – people are nice. I’m building – albeit slowly – a community of kind, gracious, interesting and inspiring women, and for anyone who still believes the stereotypes surrounding fashion – that it is frivolous, superficial and bitchy – there’s no better place than Instagram to be proven wrong.
Perhaps it’s because I’m a woman in midlife using hashtags to attract other women over 40 that my posts have been received with such goodwill.
While we may still struggle to see ourselves as anything other than flawed and flailing, as midlifers we tend to view each other in much more compassionate and flattering terms.
Would it be the same if I was 27 not 47? I don’t know, but certainly my Instagram followers are beginning to bring me the same kind of joy I get from this Heyday community, and that’s because it’s made up of like-minded women who have all had enough knocks along the way not to want to cause any bruising to others now.
On a more lighthearted, but no less important note, Instagram has helped me to identify my own brand. As someone who has adopted many brand voices and translated many brands’ visions into a coherent narrative over the years, it seems ridiculous that I could struggle to define my own. But self-consciousness breeds uncertainty. Having brazenly posted picture after picture of myself wearing the clothes that I own and love to wear, I can see myself now with greater clarity.
I’m a woman in midlife who loves to wear colour because it brings energy and novelty to each look, but I like to anchor that vitality in clean lines and sophisticated shapes because I want to appear refined rather than quirky. Attention to detail is important to me and is reflected in the design details and finishes of my clothes. I realise that these qualities are also reflective of my writing and the mentality of the brands I work with and aspire to work with. So my hope is that along with the lovely women who have started to follow me and enjoy my outfits, brands and organisations will take notice, look at my feed and think, ‘Yes, she embodies what we want to project’ – sophistication, clarity and positivity.
And if not, I still have this gorgeous community of fashion enthusiasts to keep me buoyed up, as well as a wardrobe that can work harder than I ever thought possible. #wearwhatyouown
Marie Kelly, January 2022
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