Tales from the Back Row Read Online Free

­aren’t like people you’ve slept with or cupcakes—they do not just disappear. I couldn’t wait to tell the people I was working with at Condé Nast Traveler , where I had recently accepted a freelance three-day-a-week job assisting the sole web editor, that I had to quit to go become NYmag.com ’s first fashion blogger. The vocally fashion-­obsessed editorial assistant who sat behind me and acted like I didn’t exist would be shocked. The glee this filled me with was almost enough to counteract the nervousness I had about my writing abilities: how was I ever going to be as good or funny every single day as the existing and enormously talented NYmag.com blogging team?
    I started my coveted fashion blogging job at NYmag.com in February 2008, right before Fall Fashion Week. “What an exciting time to start!” everyone said. Well, no—what a terrifying time to start. I had two days to learn everything about fashion, and blogging. I can’t even memorize a Britney Spears song in two days.
    People who wrote for the internet, referred to broadly at the time as “bloggers,” were just beginning to earn legitimacy in the fashion world. On January 31, 2008, the New York Times published a story about the rise of beauty bloggers, boldly stating, “the cosmetics industry has stopped seeing bloggers as bottom feeders.” (Of course, this feels hilarious now that beauty vloggers are millionaires . . . )
    The same was true for some fashion bloggers. The term can apply to all kinds of different people, many of whose worth was debated intensely. Fashion bloggers are like the global warming of the fashion industry—their impact only selectively acknowledged despite their undeniable existence. At this time, a debate was raging in the fashion industry about a blogger’s place in the industry. Did they deserve the front-row seats they had started getting? Most famously, Bryanboy sat front row at a Dolce & Gabbana show with a laptop, which really sent people into a frenzy. But not long after that, when then thirteen-year-old fashion blogger Tavi Gevinsonsat front row at the Dior Couture show (wearing a gigantic, ­view-­obstructing bow on her head, no less), the raised eyebrows turned to outright vitriol. Industry lifers couldn’t understand how a teenager could burst onto the scene with a website, a dream, and a cute outfit and be awarded status they believed it should take decades to earn. Yet, you can see how easy it is to get confused about bloggers, firstly because it’s confusing that taking photos of oneself wearing clothes now translates to, for a very lucky few, a lucrative career path. But this is only one kind of fashion blogger, for a few varieties exist:
    1. Journalists who happen to write for blogs. This is my category. I’m a journalist whose medium happens to be the internet—a “blog,” or “vertical” (fancy name for “section of a website that probably has its own tab at the top”).
    2. Personal-style bloggers. The people who post to the internet photos of themselves wearing clothes. The most fully formed ­personal-style blogs also treat viewers to a broader look at their subjects’ lives. Think: photos of the inside of a hotel room, closet porn, this vintage store I went to this one time, cupcakes I thought were really pretty. These bloggers are bang-up stylists, own the best clothes, and eat the best baked goods, and I am jealous of all of them.
    3. Fashion fans who chronicle their fandom online. Due to the independent nature of their sites, bloggers can create their own journalistic standards. Whereas many news outlets have rules about not accepting expensive gifts or free trips, independent bloggers can accept as many free gifts and trips as they want (if a blogger reviews a product they receive for free, FTC regulations require that the blogger disclose the product was a gift). The more