Something worth writing about…

Ever New coat (c/o)
Steve Madden sandals
Chanel handbag
Vintage belt (similar)
Celine sunglasses
Strut Jewelry ring (c/o)
Caroline Neron earrings (c/o)

When I launched Coco & Vera – which, in case anyone was counting, was seven years ago; where does the time go? – I was relatively certain no one would read it. It wasn’t just that fashion blogs were in their nascent stage back then, although that didn’t help. When I dared to tell someone I had a blog, the most common response I got was, “What’s that?” (In some respects, little has changed.) I was very genuinely convinced that no one would be interested in what I had to say. My career as an assistant in an insurance sales office was far from glamourous; my daily outfits, constrained by the dress code, were equally humdrum.

I launched it anyway, because I wanted to. I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately; how I was so passionate that I dove in without caring if my writing interested anyone. In fact, I dove in without being convinced that my life was worth writing about. It was my life, I wouldn’t get another one, and I wanted to document it, come what may.

In the intervening years, I’ve learned that the best stories, the ones that stick with us, are rarely the ones that feature beautiful gowns and glamourous events. We want to read about people like us. Regular people, who struggle with and triumph over normal things, because these stories help us realise that we aren’t crazy or demanding or trying to hard. We’re just figuring things out, and so is everyone else.

But, in those same years, I’ve also become increasingly caught up in the social media swirl where every life looks exciting because all of the boring bits are edited out. I freely admit that I edit my own life the same way. It’s one thing to write stories about regular things; it is entirely another to film instagram stories of a messy desk dotted with crumpled Post-Its and half-empty cups of cold tea.

This has been the kind of week that hardly seems worth recording. I have worked, and work has left time for little else. Ian is getting over a cold. We cleaned our apartment. We scarcely even received any mail. I considered simply leaving this post blank, a series of outfit photos with no text, because, to sum up, I have nothing to report. But I realise that makes this week no different from the week I started Coco & Vera. I was a regular woman with a regular job and a regular budget. I still enjoyed writing about my life.

This week is a testament to the fact that nothing has changed. I remain a resoundingly regular person, although a few promotions at work have increased my budget slightly over the years. My day-to-day life mostly consists of work followed by more work. I live in yoga pants and my favourite clothes mostly only get out on weekends. I don’t generally feel the need to share an hour-by-hour recap of every day, because things change very little from hour to hour sometimes. But this is still my life. I’m not getting another one. And I still think it’s worth writing, this reality of mine, because I know the boring stuff interests people. After all, it’s what interests me, too.