How to be a fashion blogger. — THE INTERNET NEEDS BORING FASHION BLOGS.

I don’t know how to ask someone to take a picture of me “for my blog” without sounding like a… like a total… what’s the mom-approved-PG word for douchebag? Because that’s what I sound like. A pretentious douchebag. It’s hard for me to take myself seriously when I’m saying, “Hey will you take a bloggy picture of me in front of this fountain?”… which is usually followed by, “What should I be doing? Should I, like, look off into the distance? Or, look over my shoulder? Should I smile? Is that weird? Smiling is weird, right?” Sure. Smiling in a picture? Totes weird. Only serial killers and ax murderers do that. Rarely is this magical moment complete without me asking, “Is it cute? Will you take another one? What should I do with my hands?” I never know what to do with my hands. And I alwaaaays ask if it’s cute. Like the person behind the camera is ever going to tell me: “I don’t know, Jenn. You’re twenty-seven years old and still pretending to be a model. Is THAT cute?” It’s not cute. In fact, the whole thing usually feels so awkward that I fidget for about five seconds in front of whatever fountain/brick wall/lake front/rooftop view I’m standing in front of and then ask, “Did you get it? Is it cute?” Like I’m Beyonce or something. IS IT CUTE? Sure. Like my personal paparazzi fan club was just begging to take a candid picture of me. “UGH. DID YOU GET IT? ARE WE DONE HERE?”

via How to be a fashion blogger. — THE INTERNET NEEDS BORING FASHION BLOGS.

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