Weighing in on the Fashion Blogosphere’s Diversity Problem

In recent weeks, the IFB community has had its designer panties up in a twist over the uncomfortable notion that only hot, skinny, modelesque white blonde girls are capable of cultivating successful blogs.  With IFBCON wrapping up its glitzy annual powwow last week and attendees ruminating on their piles of swag and conference notes, I thought that it would be good (or bad? ha. just wait for the backlash.) timing to address one of the organization’s most notable recent snafus.

This whole hot button issue arose as a result of a somewhat clumsily worded post that appeared on IFB last month, in which the writer seemed to suggest (perhaps unintentionally) that (1) blogger success only occurs for a homogeneous subgroup of skinny, pretty, tall blondes, and (2) that this is because these women have better photos, content, posting schedules, and overall quality on their blogs in comparison to the rest of the pose-snap-post proletariat.  The post was obviously meant to open up the floor for discussion within the blogging network: it was titled “Bloggers & Body Image: Are We Helping Or Hurting Ourselves?”  The post was short, and seemed to be attempting to address way too many issues–prejudice in blogging, racism in the fashion industry, bloggers’ issues with body image, and how to best help more “non-top-tier” bloggers carve out a successful niche for themselves.  As a result, it failed to really address any of those things, and what it did cover, it covered poorly.  Nevertheless, the writer was brave to even open the can of worms, to take the heat from a ton of disgruntled IFBers, and to start a conversation that desperately needed to be had.

The post was lacking, severely, in almost every aspect, but it was still significant.  At the very least, it offered some great questions, namely, how could a self-editing and self-promoting quasi-industry like blogging (which, in IFB terms, refers exclusively to FASHION blogging, of course) become so commercial, and whether there was anything that could be done to change that.

The purported point of fashion blogging is for people to democratize fashion, to share their points of view, to inspire others and to create a fun and supportive network.  This network is supposed to be “above” tired conventions of beauty like waist size, skin color or height.  This network is not supposed to discriminate against age, tax bracket, or non-blondeness.  But yet, this network falls prey to all these measures of marketability as hot skinny rich white girls get picked up for an endorsement here or a book deal there.  Since a blog’s success is evidently measured solely by how well it serves as its proprietor’s bread and butter, it appears that monetizing only works for the Marilyns, or at least, much more so than the Jackies.

Though there’s certainly a grain of truth to this loosely crafted argument (that only Barbies are capable of achieving fashion blog “success” and “elite” or “top-tier” blog status, and that it’s because they’re not only hotter but better at everything than everyone else), it appears to be based on selective observations, and it sets its criteria in a vague and questionable way.  Is money the only way to measure a blog’s success?  Is this “typecasting” problem a worldwide issue or one that’s only prevalent in the culturally challenged, materially obsessed, and gravely self-unaware United States?  Who, exactly, gets to call the shots on which blog is deemed “top-tier”?  What does any of this shit (or that article) have to do with “body image”?

Before I go into a pro forma GSB rant, let’s take a step back and consider IFB’s intentions.  On the one hand, it sounds like the Choo-Clad-Foot-In-Mouth moment was meant to be a pep talk for us “common folk”: jack up your content and the traffic and freebies and ca$h money offers will follow.  Strive to do your personal best and then keep striving harder, and great things will happen.  Don’t let the hataz keep you from doing your thing.  And all that is great, kind advice.  Though the whole discussion of how non-statuesque appearance precludes the other 99% of the aspiring blog-for-a-living community from ever realizing their dream is equivalent to pouring salt on a wound, I still hold that the intentions of IFB’s contributor were good.  The post (and the subsequent IFB open letter/apology) came out sounding less than polished, but at least there was some obvious, visible effort.

That said, maybe telling the “under-achieving” 99% that their blogs suck because they don’t have the hottest tools, clothes, or camera angles doth not a happy reader make.  Telling the readers that there is a purported problem and then not really exploring it beyond the establishment of its existence does not seem entirely proactive.  Worst of all, after poking around the blogosphere for other bloggers’ opinions on IFB’s bold statements, I noticed that IFB does not exactly hold the reputation for being routinely equipped with a sensitivity chip: apparently the site inadvertently alienates its base on a frequent basis.

For a network which aims to help “independent” fashion bloggers become “successful” through “monitizing,” IFB sure seems hung up on making aspiring young individualistic fashionistas cram into the same mold.  The network might give useful tips for improving traffic, content and quality, and it might serve as a watchdog in what is obviously a rigged industry–all awesome things– but it also fails to consider that some bloggers don’t have the time or money to invest in fancy equipment or gadgetry–or that different bloggers are interested in different things, or that there’s a world beyond the realms of Pinterest and Chictopia.  And to an onlooker, IFB really seems to canonize (pun intended) the absolutely dire importance of using a specific type of camera and a specific type of blogging platform to achieve optimal results.   I’ve bitched about this before, and I still don’t understand this bizarre “be an individual…just like everyone else!” attitude.   Hidden behind the flashy veneer of community spotlights and newsletters and livechats, there seems to be a persistent subliminal recipe for the prerequisite to achieving top tier fashion blog greatness: “Ditch your shitty point-and-shoot for a Blogspot Limited Edition Canon Rebel 2012 Fashionista Model, or, if you already drank the DSLR Kool-Aid, trade up your kit lens for a super diesel replacement and coerce your live-in SO to be your personal paparazzo and make sure that your blog consists predominantly of portraits of you posing in a mix of hi-lo outfits with a rotating inventory of at least four Zara boyfriend blazers, three Chanel bags, two pairs of Alaïa ankle boots, and a partridge in a pear tree and then all of a sudden your ultra important outfit photos will be a hit and Anthoholics Anonymous will be a-calling to have you style a project or design a capsule collection of bracelets crafted from organically grown hemp…”  

Sorry.  If I see one more IFB-praised blog post featuring a leggy blonde leaning against some textured industrial backdrop exhibiting the hackneyed Bambi-learning-to-walk-pose while donning a neon-colored ponte blazer, a sleeve of mismatched-to-perfection bangles that actually took 20 minutes of meticulous and deliberate planning to “curate,” a porkpie hat draped over a set of bluntly cut bangs, and a pair of cropped motorcycle boots, I might seriously lose my composure hope in the creative capacities of the purported future of the fashion industry.  I mean, this shit has been done.  A lot.  There’s an app for that.  Let’s move on.

I guess what I’m trying to connote with the above diatribe is that IFB kind of has a lot of nerve telling people how to write their blogs, coming up with labels like “top tier,” suggesting that not being “top tier” will preclude bloggers from achieving success (or happiness), and raising the notion that being not white, not tall, not blonde and/or not thin not only makes bloggers insecure about themselves but limits their ability to be accepted in the mainstream.  It also addresses the racism issue in a tangential and poorly articulated way, instead of calling a spade a spade and, perhaps, rallying for an organized initiative to bring more diversity to the foreground of the fashion blogosphere.  It must be way easier to arbitrarily toss around words like “elite” and “content” and “body image” and let the chips fall where they may.

Here’s where I stand.  I am not really a fashion blogger so none of this shit really makes me upset on a personal level, but I read a lot of blogs (most of which are far from “top tier’ and many of which are written by “minority” bloggers), and it greatly saddens me that these lovely, talented, beautiful people are being shafted and put down left and right, not just by the fashion world at large but by the fashion blogging community.  I don’t think that it’s particularly nice to tell people how they should think or how they should label themselves.  I don’t think that fabricating self-fulfilling prophesies is a particularly effective way to mitigate existing social, economic, and ethnic inequalities (newsflash: it exacerbates them instead).  I know that this was not IFB’s intention (at least, I hope it wasn’t), but bringing up these meaty issues carries the risk of deeply offending a lot of people, and it’s important to express one’s position with precision.

It’s hard for me to articulate my opinion on all this, because I think that at its root, the fashion blogging industry (and for the record, it IS an industry) is a cardinal, messed up, and somewhat misunderstood extension of the fashion industry in general.  The industry is not, and probably will not, ever be truly “democratized,” because it’s too lucrative an area (at least in those “top tier” big leagues) to propagate ethnic and economic diversity.  If success is measured solely by monitization and monitization only occurs when specific advertisers and retailers (who, of course, target specific, demographics) decide that their ads will generate the most traffic from one type of website which presents a certain image, then bloggers need to conform to this crystallized convention or else look for alternative ways to generate their blog revenue.  Is this unfair? Yes.  Is it stupid on the part of advertisers and retailers to alienate the 99% of blogs which are written by individuals who are a representative microcosm of society (you know, diverse in shape and size and discretionary income) and to whom the majority of readers are more likely to relate and gravitate?  You bet.  But the glamorous fashion industry bigwigs like their ambassadors to be Glamazonian reflections of their image, and even if we, the readers/writers, “take things into our own hands, ” it’s doubtful that this bitter equation will ever change.

We can’t force Label X to advertise on “Non-Top-Tier” Blogger Y’s blog.  And we can’t force Top Tier Barbie 1 to put down her custom distressed Balenciaga bag and vintage beaded Armani Privé gown that she scored from her retired debutante mother’s gilded walk-in closet in favor of a Tantalized by Tar-jay post.  These people will always be rich and blonde and skinny and glamorous, and they will probably be the preferred ad space contacts for any advertiser with deep pockets. But that doesn’t mean that everyone else has to feel shitty about it.

And just because 99% of us can’t afford to dress (or blog?) like that “elite top tier,” it doesn’t mean that we won’t keep seeing salacious shoe/bag/dress porn all over the blogosphere every day: lusting-for-the-unattainable culture has been the hot shit since US Weekly started reporting on the labels worn by deified celebrities, and it is not in the industry’s best interest to curtail its production of consumer/material porn just because we find it intangible.  We can either hate/envy those beautiful Barbie dolls with their Rick Owens jackets and Miu Miu shoes or we can live within our own constructs (budgetary and garmentary) and write, read, wear, and appreciate things on our own terms.    Fuck convention.

What I further don’t appreciate is that “body image” gets lumped into this whole conversation, and that it’s automatically assumed that every non-top-tier blogger wants to profit from blogging, achieve fame, gain 3 extra inches of height and lose 6 extra inches of waist/hip circumference, and/or, to be someone else entirely.  First of all, these are four separate subjects that warrant their own platforms.  Second, I know it’s a baffling concept, but some bloggers are happy in their own skin, BMI, melanin and keratin discrepancies and all.  There are plenty of bloggers who, while not “top tier” by IFB-identified conventional standards, are wildly popular, or successful, or well-respected, or happy just as they are, sans traffic or ca$h money.  There are sub-groups beyond niches, and those groups are happy and thriving.  There are bloggers who shoot with an iPhone instead of a $5,000 DSLR, wear DIY instead of couture, write about all sorts of stuff instead of only posting self-portraits, or blog somewhere else instead of Blogspot, and, despite resisting the lure of IFB-branded convention, are satisfied–and confident–with themselves and their blogs.

So really, maybe things aren’t necessarily as grim as they seem.  Or maybe they’re worse.  I guess it really depends on the angle from which we examine these notions of “beauty” and “success” and whether we maintain fruitful discourse and propagate ambitious initiatives or get bogged down by preachy assumptions.  I’m not going to pretend that racism and elitism does not exist in the fashion industry (or, by extension, in the fashion blogging industry).  It’s there, and it’s really shitty, and it makes me furious.

Every once in a while someone (Galliano, DVF, Lagerfeld, IFB) will have a gaffe and further reinforce the reality that sadly, some form of prejudice or another permeates every crevice of society.  But {racism & fashion} is a vast and complicated issue–a topic around which we tip-toe but shouldn’t.  And IFB just skimmed the tip of the iceberg (with some stumbles along the way).  Perhaps IFB’s attempt to open up the floor on this could have been better worded but at least it got people thinking and talking (and getting mad and hopefully taking action, though said action might not yield the most optimal results).  And in the end, if enough people keep talking (and not let this topic die in the message boards like a thousand other important issues–one of the reasons I’m posting this a month late to the party), then maybe IFB will start to feature different types of bloggers, the high school popularity contest will turn into something a bit more meritorious and fair, and the fashion blogging industry will elevate its standards on its own personal ethics, not just on content and pixellation.  But we have GOT to keep talking.  And closing off the comment section, removing easy access to the original posts and moving on to the next round of bloggy chit chat is not exactly the best way to keep that conversation going.  Just a thought.

Your thoughts?