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. 

You Shouldn't Feel Bad About Getting Your Nails Done (But That Doesn't Mean You Shouldn't Support Change)

If you haven't read the New York Times series Unvarnished, I highly recommend you do. And if you, like me, immediately feel uncomfortable after reading it, then the following is also something for you. 

If you don't have time for a several series investigate journalism piece, I'll sum it up for you: in New York City, one of the most expensive cities in the world, manicures and pedicures are cheap. Like, dirt cheap. A mani-pedi that might cost me perhaps $50-60 here in Oregon would cost may $20-30. Yeah, that's a big difference, especially considering that the cost of living in Oregon is staggeringly cheaper than New York City. 

Want to know the big reason nail services are so cheap in New York City? Surprise! It's because it's essentially slave labor! 

And it's probably not just in New York City, too. Several large chains are being investigated, which means that mall-based salons throughout the country are going to be under a microscope for their labor procedures. 

The main problem is that many of the manicurists working in New York City are here illegally; they don't speak much English; and they are desperate. The primarily groups are Korean, Chinese, and Vietnamese workers, as well as some Spanish workers and other Asian minorities. 

There are lots of horrible stories in the first part of Unvarnished. You read about a woman charged $270 (more than her average paycheck) for accidentally dripping nail polish remover on a New York woman's sandal, and then being fired; she concludes with, "I am worth less than a shoe." You read about a woman paying $200 to start working in a nail salon--common practice, a fee for "training"--and then working for three months without being paid. When she is finally told she will be paid, she finds out her daily wage is less than $3. There are more stories: tips are skimmed or stolen by the owners, women go months without being paid or are charged for supplies and services they use in their work. Some women hand their entire paychecks over for childcare. Women suffer miscarriages from the fumes or get sick. 

It's devastating. The entire series so far is devastating. 

And if you enjoy manicures and pedicures, it can start to eat at you.

I occasionally get pedicures at a salon in my hometown. It is very small and owned by a Vietnamese family; the manager is their son, who has a degree in mathematics. The workers all seem to be family. They are friendly and seem very happy. I tip well when I go there and chat with them. If they happened to accidentally spill nail polish or drip remover on my shoe, I wouldn't freak out; accidents happen. 

The responses to Unvarnished vary. Lots of women feel guilty. And lots of others get mad about why anyone thinks it is ok to get a pedicure or manicure. "Doesn't it just stink of servitude to begin with??" one comment says.  The answer is, no, not really. It's like any other salon service, like getting your hair cut or colored. Yeah, you could do it yourself; but it's nice to occasionally have someone else do it. 

As long as they're paid accordingly, of course. 

The issue at play here is this: The minute we read about something horrible happening, it's a natural human instinct to think (or potentially say), "but how does this effect  ME???" 

The answer is: it doesn't. This issue doesn't really touch you, unless you are one of the hundreds of manicurists working slave wages. You can't think of this issue in terms of you and your feelings and your guilt. You have to think of it in terms of: What can I do to ensure it improves? 

Already, New York City has taken steps to make changes to their salons. There will be sweeps of all nail salons in the city. That's a big first step. If you truly want things to change, you shouldn't focus on what you feel about it; instead, you should make steps to ensure public policy change. Ask at salons you visit, write your senators and governor, sign petitions. Do something.

You don't have to stop getting manicures or pedicures, especially if you like them. You should support measures that would protect salon workers and ensure them fair wages and safe working conditions (including further testing on the chemicals used during acrylic manicures and their long-term health effects). You shouldn't be paralyzed by your own guilt, but you also shouldn't ignore the issue. 

"Studyblrs" Make Me Wish I Was Still In School

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. 

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. 

A Few Really Good Things

One of my oldest blog friends, Sian, recently posted about some "Good Things" and included me in her blog post! It made me realize that I haven't written something that just celebrated the good stuff in my life (without also dredging up my current pregnancy-driven hormonal upheaval). You can read Sian's post here... and here are a few of my own good things! 

1. Baby Clothes. 

Is there anything cuter than teeny tiny baby clothes? Finally knowing the little guy's gender has opened up a lot of possibilities for clothes! I'm a big fan of the Cool Like Dad onesie and the wee knitted high-top shoes on the upper left! On Mother's Day, my sister also brought me a tote of my nephew's clothes from when they were babies, which was very exciting! 

2. Maternity Photos. 

A few weeks ago, Danny and I did a set of "maternity photos" (basically "we're expecting!" photos), which basically serve as the last pictures of us (professionally done) before we always have to wrangle a child in them! I really like the results, even if I look a bit bloated in all of them. (Truth: I was a bit bloated in all of them. It's not just a look thing!) 

3. Baking

A hobby I went a long time without indulging, but this past weekend, I really got my baking on! I forgot to take a picture of the baby onesie cookies I made, but they turned out quite cute! I made teal-blue cupcakes for my barbecue this past weekend and I made myself some mocha donuts for breakfast that morning. Because I could. 

4. Naps. 

One of the overwhelming narratives of my life lately is: I'm tired, I need a nap. And I do legitimately need a nap. This is where working from home comes in handy; I can send out an email, excuse myself, and pass out for an hour or two (with Remus on my head). It's strange how I can go from working happily to "if I don't lie down, I'm going to fall down." 

5. Sunny days. 

This past weekend was a gorgeous, glorious, beautiful May weekend, kind of a strange thing here in Oregon. It was lucky it was Mother's Day--lots of barbecues to be had! I spent most of my day outside Saturday planning my own generally baby-themed BBQ and then Sunday, I spent time at my parents house while Danny finished up homework. 

6. Relaxing

This post does not really encompass the crazy-busy pace of my life in the past two weeks. Unfortunately, one of my coworkers was out sick for nearly a month--which meant that his 40 hours of work were split between me and one or two other coworkers!! The past two weeks have been a blur, so being able to kick back and relax (even with cooking and planning and everything else) on the weekends is really important. And probably why I need so many naps!

7 Reasons You Should Take the Trip You've Been Thinking About

1. You can't remember the last time a weekend including something that wasn't errands, cleaning, and/or more of your week time work. 

2. You really, really just want to get out of town. 

3. You found a hotel on TripAdvisor that you just have to visit. It has soaking tubs. Woodsy decor. Eco-friendly mattresses. You read the restaurant menu and rapidly become obsessed with trying green goddess dressing. 

4. You just want to eat, shop, and pretend you have no other responsibilities (such as work, an impending human child, or a house to clean). 

5. It's not really that far away. 

6. You joke to everyone--your coworkers, your husband, your family, your friends--that you "may not come back"! Everyone laughs, but you seriously consider the financial and emotional consequences of raising a child in a hotel. 

7. When you get back, you'll realize how valuable everything you left behind is: work, smelly dog, potentially smelly husband, undone baby nursery, unpaid bills. 

Mothers, Don't Let Your Daughters Make Up Baby Names

This past weekend, I discovered a really funny blog. A woman named Jessie receives a newspeper insert every year that includes the birth announcements for all of Madison County, Idaho. She uses it to create a list of the absolute worst names in Idaho. She's done this for 7 years. She argues (pretty articulately, I must say) and provides evidence that shows that the wacky trend of making up weird names for babies was started in Utah and Idaho; there have been unfortunately named children in these states for decades. 

Before I noticed average everyday people giving their babies truly unfortunate names, I moved to Idaho and found myself surrounded by people with kinda weird names. Unique spellings and interesting pronunciations mostly. It wasn't something I had encountered in Eugene, Oregon. I mean, my graduating high school class was overrun with Michaels, Anthonys, and Christophers. 

However, in recent years, I've noticed more and more unique names from all corners. People making up names for their kids. I think we've all seen the picture of the pretty pregnant woman standing in front of a chalkboard featuring several very unpleasant names for her future baby... and the truly unfortunate one she decided to go with. In case you haven't, here it is. (You can also find this simply by Googling "white people awful baby names". It's the first result.) 

Let's appreciate for a moment that she didn't name the poor child McKarty. 

Let's appreciate for a moment that she didn't name the poor child McKarty. 

All of these names (and many popular ones) include the Column A and Column B technique: you take a bunch of random prefixes (La-, May-, Mc-, Brin-) in Column A and a random bunch of names or made up names in Column B (-kynn, -lynn, -ley/lee/lei, and more) and just smash then today. Brinley. Brinlynn. Maylynn. Maylei. It ensures that your child will have a truly unique name and no teacher will ever pronounce it correctly. 

As I wrote on Twitter, while reading the blog post I found, "I know you're not supposed to judge other women for what they name their babies, but I'm going to anyway." People will argue that people have the right to name their child whatever they damn well wish and that is certainly true. But a baby isn't an accessory; it isn't a pet; it isn't a toy. It grows up and has its own life. When little Lakynn or little Oakley or little Remington (not kidding) grows up, they have to put down "Lakynn TwilaLou Smith" on their resume, their college applications. If you think that a person's name doesn't affect their job prospects, then you're fooling yourself. 

It's natural to want to give teeny weeny widdle babies teeny weeny widdle names that are as cute and fat and special as them. But that's an impulse that needs to be shoved down. There are home videos of me as a baby with my parents and siblings calling me Michelle, which is 1) bizarre because my memory only recalls being called Shelly and 2) is a mouthful for a tiny baby. But while Michelle or Alexander or Jonathan are big names for little babies, they are also adult names that suggest adult people. 

In the future, we're going to have generations of people with far out names: the Brinleys and Oakleys and Remingtons and Diezzels and Lakynns and McKartys are going to grow up and apply for college. A generation of little girls are doomed to having people stare at their names in disbelief. "Are these just a bunch of letters smushed together? Did you name yourself?" Will the President of the United States ever be named RyKer or Londyn or Lexxus or Kenlee? Probably not. 

I have a penchant for weird, old names. I really like the way they sound and look, and I love when names have a history. However, I've been talked out of Angus and Ezra as boy names because, well, they're just too odd. (I will argue that a man named Angus is probably destined to be a badass. Just saying.) I find myself scaling back the "weirdness" on the names I pick for future baby because, well, I want it to have absolutely every opportunity. I don't want any decision I make to negatively impact its future. And that includes its name. 

I guess what I'm saying is: this trend seems to treat babies too much as fashion accessories that you can name however you want without consequences. But there are consequences to names. Really. Babies grow up into adults and they don't really get a second chance at having a name. A little girl named Remington will be named Remington for her entire life. Do you really want to do that to a child? Don't make up names for your baby. Stick to the classics. 

Sorry, I Have No Idea What I'm Doing

I have recently noticed a disturbing trend: when I'm shopping, or walking through a store, and encounter a strange situation (a ladder across an aisle, an employee stocking something in the way of everyone), people tend to follow my lead or do what I do (carefully tiptoe over the ladder, sneak past the employee). 

I have never, in my life, been a leader. I do not have the qualities necessary. I'm extremely good at streamlining my own day, acting in a manner that is extremely disciplined and specific, but I'm really terrible at explaining how to organize to other people, or how to do anything, actually. I'm bad at giving directions. I'm a bad leader. I just am. I have many strengths, but leading others is not one of them. 

And yet, when approaching a Starbucks the other day, I decided to awkwardly stand in what I hoped looked like an "I'm next" line format. I then found other people lining up behind me. "No," I wanted to say, "I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just standing here. I could be wrong. Do not follow my lead!"

Along with being a poor leader, I've always assumed I exude a feeling of "I'm totally clueless"-ness to other people, especially while out in public. I have walked into doors, nearly knocked over displays, and generally shown myself to be very, very bad at carrying myself with confidence and a sense of assuredness. The idea that someone else sees me standing directionless in a Starbucks and thinks, yes, this person knows what they're doing! is shocking to me. 

I've been noticing more and more that I don't feel quite as useless deciding what to do as I used to. While standing in line at the grocery store on Saturday (a surprisingly busy Saturday morning), a woman was pulled into a newly opened line and, as she moved, an elderly man tried to cut in front of me. A few years ago, I would have let him cut in line, standing awkwardly behind him. Instead, I moved up and tried to look confident in my decision to cut him off. I might have absolutely no idea what I'm doing standing in a line to buy bananas and bread, but I do know that I'd already been standing in line for a few minutes... and he hadn't been.

I don't want to say I'm more confident than I used to be. But in recent months (and especially since being pregnant), I've stopped being willing to let other people push me around simply because I didn't know what to say to stop it from happening. In terms of people following my lead, I wonder if this comes off as confidence in my decisions.

I need some kind of physical disclaimer that explains, despite my apparent confidence, that I actually have no idea if this is where the line starts, or how to order coffee, or if this outfit is appropriate, because while I look like I know what I'm doing, I really don't, but that doesn't mean you can cut in front of me, either. 

All the People We Leave Behind

About a week ago, I met with one of my best friends from high school. Alycia and I hadn't seen each other since either 2008 or 2009 (we couldn't really remember--I know it was summer and I was between years at college, but I'm just not sure). Either way, it'd been a long time since we'd seen each other, since we'd made the time to see each other. 

In the past few weeks, I'd been thinking about Alycia--and really, all my friends from high school--a lot. I know everyone has moments where they search for their ex on Facebook or someone they used to speak to. The weird thing about social media is our ability to find people we used to spend all our time with and see the highlights of their life: the vacation pictures, their status updates, their #humblebrags about work outs and more. Social media can make it easy to keep grudges alive or to keep someone at a distance while still obsessively following their life trajectory. 

There have been a lot of friends I've left behind: people I used to talk to all the time, or see everyday, that I just stopped speaking to. Sometimes, it was because of a falling out, a disagreement, or a sudden, mutual dislike. For whatever reason, being pregnant has really made me reconsider my behavior in the past. 

I'm definitely a grudge holder and a bit of a negative Nancy at time--not two of my most positive traits. I also tend to assume that if someone stops speaking to me, or stops replying to me, it's because I'm an awful person. This is most likely untrue (although I'm sure in some cases people really do either forget about me or just not like me that much). There are people I still don't ever want to talk to or think about... but I'd say overwhelmingly I miss a lot of the people I used to consider best friends. 

It's also very easy to forget that sometimes people just move on and change. There are people I used to be best friends with (as a child, or in middle school) that I still think of very fondly, but I realize we are in very different places or just very different people. The things that made us friends, that we had in common, have changed dramatically--and while it would be possible to be friendly, reconnecting and having the relationship we once had would be impossible. 

That being said, there are people that I wish I could still speak to--friends who always gave me great advice or listened when I was sad, friends who were talented and passionate. I miss them a lot, but for whatever reason, attempts to reach out to them never work out or fall apart. We're just different people, I guess, and as hard as that is, it's just a natural part of getting older and growing up.