Chloe Moss, 23, is a fashion blogger and freelance writer who graduated with an English Literature degree from King’s College London in July. In her tenth Funemployed column, she looks at how her over-sharing on social media has come back to bite her…
The birth of social media outlets such as Twitter has taught us glorious lessons about life. On initial inspection, one might wonder, how much trouble can one get into in a mere 140 characters? But I think, from the likes of Ed Balls (his blunders have their own national day), Kim Kardashian (designer spelling errors) and Louise Thompson of MIC (accidental nude snaps), we can see that Twitter can actually get you into quite a spot of bother.
It’s not that I commit any out and out Twitter crimes, as it were. If over-sharing in the extreme is a faux pas, then yes, I am guilty of that. Look, I tweet about bikini waxes, but not during the act, and I never include photos. And I might proposition Mr. Kipling the cake magnate a few times a year, but that’s all good fun right? There’s also my penchant for tweeting various celebrities who have disappeared from the limelight asking where they’ve gone – the rapper Nelly, for example. He didn’t reply.
A recent Twitcident has highlighted the fact that my ‘open book’ Twitter policy might need reviewing. I was wearing an outfit, as seen below, in which the tassels of my top were so long that they kept getting caught in the crotch of my jeans. So I tweeted about it. I don’t know if it really was a camel toe, but I referred to it as one because it felt right. It also felt right to accompany it with a couple of the camel emojis for good measure (why there are two camel emojis, I do not know). I thought nothing more of it.
Then, over a week later, I was approached on Twitter by a company that specialises in a product aimed at eliminating camel toe. They claim to be a favourite of Loose Women, at which point I was mortally offended because I am NOT in the same category as the participants of that awful show. They sent me a helpful promo video, and then they followed me. What ensued was that I was then followed by numerous women’s wellness groups. It was as though they all flocked to help me in response to my cry for help. But it wasn’t a cry for help, it was merely a mildly humorous observation. And now I’m the poster child for women’s fashion afflictions at the ripe old age of 23.
I do not know where I went so wrong that while other bloggers are being sent clothes or being taken on free meals, I’m being approached by companies that sell camel toe-banishing products that, as my friend pointed out, looks like a shoe horn. Honestly it does, you could stick a shoe horn down there for the same effect, sorry guys, not to burn any potential endorsement deals. So now I’m thinking, am I doing Twitter wrong? Is my Twitter broken? Do I need to stop referring to camel toe as an extra accessory in my outfit posts?
The realisation that I have come to is this. There are a lot of bloggers who take photos that are all colour co-ordinated, everything in pastel. Their Instagram has a theme, again it’s usually pastel. They take photos of their food from a perfect angle before eating it. They keep their bikini waxes behind the scenes. I, however, do not take pastel photos, and my Instagram always has a slightly brown tinge to it. I’m usually too hungry to remember to take a photo of my scrambled eggs.
So I think, rather than fight it, I should just embrace this aspect of my social media presence. At the end of the day, I’m from the school of fashion thought that it isn’t about a polished finished product, but it’s about having fun and for me, the fun comes at the cost of being messy and feral and a bit gross. Ultimately, even if I do get offered shoe horns for various fashion afflictions around my body, at least I’m having fun with it. Twitter, that is, not the shoe horns.