Did you listen? If not, click past a post and harness the virtue of multi-tasking. Minutes, not outnumbering the digits on either pairs of appendages, could achieve a neat nail trim on those constantly enumerated fingers and toes, not to mention a sharply honed intellect.
For those of you who have already realized their pedicure, manicure, and mind-icure, let us proceed.
(prior to advancing further, I wish to inform readers that this post is probably more than slightly self-indulgent. Treating a case of writing constipation could result in a crude case of the opposite)
point 1-prosaism
I am an admitted cliche: a self-published blogger with aspirations for writing. I don’t imagine I’ll ever see a Bagley shelved between an Austen and Brontë, but I do fancy a well turned phrase occasionally. Something I can jester at during a theoretical talent show.
I am an admitted cliche: a self-published blogger with aspirations for writing. I don’t imagine I’ll ever see a Bagley shelved between an Austen and Brontë, but I do fancy a well turned phrase occasionally. Something I can jester at during a theoretical talent show.
Typing of, I wish I had penned Tom Wait’s imagery about inspiration coming like “a dream through a straw.” That’s how Cardigan Empire started. Almost accidental. I wanted to help a dear friend and negotiate peace in the fitting room.
point 2-obstruction
Yet of late my straw has been stopped. Possible attributions for this mental impediment include: sleep deprivation, newborn induced noun loss (the condition in which mothers find it difficult to hold a conversation without access to the Internet as a reference point), or classic time scarcity.
However, in moments of honesty, I can accurately define the cerebral stymie as simple fear of failure.
point 3-applause addiction
I’m a success junkie, a compliment whore. Pat my head literally or metaphorically, and I will bind myself to fetch your bidding, in desperate hopes of another verbal validation.
And I fear that I am the blogging equivalent to a second rate Cyndi Lauper. I’ve written my “Time after Time,” and there isn’t even the option of Dancing with the Stars or Celebrity Apprentice for expired bloggers.
I am old. My text messaging lacks acronyms. I am not trendy, in fact I’m excessively loyal to romantic details and feminine silhouettes. I am a remedial camera operator. And my husband rarely if ever returns until long after the golden hour has expired. I can’t sew, and I doubt I will ever make it to the thrift store on a weekly basis to find the clandestine steals. My follower dial has been stalled for several fortnights, and my blog design is so 2008.
point 4-external accreditation
My personal pinnacles may not be cataloged with fame, but occasionally I review my efforts and am pleased with the results.
As I stare down at my poetic barrier, the thought that I am neither fully responsible for my creative success nor my literary litter, tranquilizes my anxiety. I need to negotiate with inspiration and occasionally issue a generous thank you note, but I don’t have to spontaneously generate from the dusty corners of my mind.
point 5-CE’s declaration
In closing, i am disclosing the Cardigan Empire mission statement, and I expect you to hold me to it. It details what this creative effort is and is not.
What Cardigan Empire wants to be:
Educational: CE should never induce envy. If I can’t show you how to do it better than I have done it, I have failed.
Communal: I’d prefer to post a photo of how I helped you look pretty than read a profusion of compliments on my own look. (and I have a plan on how to do that, which I shall share in due time)
Quality: I am committed to conscientious selection and cleverly calculated cost per wear. I believe a closet should be as carefully assembled and deliberately diversified as your stock portfolio.
Literary: Each post will team with pretty words, supercilious vocabulary, and lots of alliteration.
I am going to let Cardigan Empire be what it was born to be, if I can help one mother love her body, or one wife feel pretty, or one daughter respect herself…
that’s a pearl and I’m happy to be an oyster.
Have you ever felt like that?
And thank you for all your entries to the Ellie Cutler Contest. Due to the number of last minute entries, I request a winning announcement extension. Tomorrow morning I look forward to awarding the grand prize and possibly a few runner-ups, they are too lovely not to share.
Feed me fashionably fresh
I don’t comment very often, but I must say, reading your blog is such a wonderful part of my day! I love your fancy phrases (even if sometimes it takes me a while to figure them out), I love seeing pictures of your gorgeous little ones and I love the genuine kindness that radiates from you!
Well said. Your writing never ceases to amaze me. You create such beautiful imagery. And I have loved your blog from day one- and not just because you are my dear friend, but because it is, well, the Bronte in a sea of english 101 essays.
Ohmygosh! I love reading your blog, too! I have for…goodness, almost 2 years now! I love your phrasing, your fashion AND writing styles, and your creativity. I’ve also been honored to have been able to have glimpses into your life as it has changed from a young, Mini-driving wife to a STILL young, fulfilled, mommy to two AND a wife!
We all have insecurities and worry that the efforts we make (blog or otherwise) may sometimes not reach the goals we set for them, but this is journey. A lovely journey.
I can’t wait to read more of what you have in store for us here on CE!
You are a shining star Rachel Bagley. Kudos to you for being a woman’s friend; without judgement and with pure intentions.
you have inspired me so keep going! and don’t stop posting pics of your outits…. i have to admit, i have copied MANY :)I am excited to see what you do!
Bravo. This has been my favorite post of CE. I had to listen to the Liz Gilbert clip in three stages because my son (who never sleeps) and my the dinner in my kitchen stove are both in cahoots with the antithesis of the angels Gilbert described.