Instagram vs reality. An all too pertinent topic, wouldn’t you agree? But just what is the truth behind your favourite bloggers Instagram page? Is she really that perfect? Find out below-and here’s to a having a laugh at ourselves.
Instagram: You wake up revived, rested and feeling utterly blessed. You are SUCH a morning person and your new (gifted) Nuxe evening cream has really provided you with that beautiful glow. The tan you painstakingly applied last night is so perfect you could weep. If your blogging focus tends to veer towards fashion, you celebrate the fact your Oliva Von Halle pyjamas didn’t crease over night. If you fall into the Mummy blogger category, you bask in the glory of your perfect children who didn’t arise from their slumber once. The little darlings. If you’re a food blogger, you actually managed to dream up a recipe that will go onto win you an award. You’re all too excited for your day of being perfect to begin.
Reality: You wake up sick, rumpled and feeling utterly cr*p. You have had no sleep and your dupe Nuxe evening cream turned out to be literally just that. A dupe. And now you’re covered in angry looking spots. Better yet, the tan that was painstakingly applied last night is so terrible you could weep. Your pyjamas are orange. If you’re a Mummy blogger, you have had approximately 20 mins sleep because little Edward had wet the bed and delightful Molly had been screaming half the night. The little brats. Food blogger? Any recipe inspo? No. Obviously not. Don’t be so silly.
Instagram: Breakfast Time. The most important meal of the day. Your overnight oats have soaked to perfection. If you are a Mummy blogger, you pop out to the garden for some fresh berries, only to realise Edward and Molly ate them all whilst spending yesterday foraging in the sunshine. The little rascals! If you are a fashion blogger, you were just recently sent a foodie hamper (totally ireleveant to the blog but it’s excellent exposure, right?) so you’re also sussed on the delicious breakfast toppings front. If you are a food blogger, hooray, because yesterday involved a late evening trip to Whole Foods to pick up the mere necessities (chia seeds, goji berries etc. etc.). Either way, thank goodness we all keep an array of delicious, fresh fruits in our (Smeg) fridges. Raspberries, strawberries, blueberries, rasberries, elderberries, snozberries…we have it all. You expertly scatter a rainbow of fruit across your overnight oats, before drizzling £4 worth of Manuka Honey as an extra (but necessary) topping. You eat slowly, letting the goodness radiate from each and every pore. You do, of course, document this whole, divine, breakfast affair on Instagram. If you don’t, it didn’t happen.
Reality: A bowl of Coco pops. You upload a picture from a fancy brunch place you went to 3 months before. People will (hopefully) have forgotten the picture and besides, this one is from a different angle. You insert a caption relevant to your blogging niche before pouring a second bowl of Coco pops.
Instagram: Time for some beautiful new content creation on your beautiful Instagram feed. Beautiful. If you are an interiors blogger, you smile, delighted as the morning light pours between the blinds, softly illuminating your living room. You fill your Emma Bridgewater 1/2 pint mug with coffee, and sip over a magazine. Whilst sipping and reading said magazine (25 Beautiful Homes) you notice how lovely it all looks on top of your duck egg blue Annie Sloan side table. Your baby blue and powder pink hydrangeas look divine in their antique vase. And just like that a beautiful picture is born. Completely at random. You are so, so, blessed. If you are a Mummy blogger you must take a picture of your darling babies, so you plait Molly’s hair and smooth Edward’s dungarees. Just before you go to take their picture, they simultaneously burst into spontaneous skipping in a rush to grab The Very Hungry Caterpillar. They sit down and read together, holding hands. And there it is, the money shot. How adorable are your two!? If you are a fashion blogger you enjoy free reign of the vast expanse of marble topped counters in your home. Your expensive collection of make-up and jewellery are casually scattered across the marble, amongst red rose petals. You take one snap and the perfect flat lay comes to life.
Reality: How the heck are you supposed to get pictures of your pigsty of a house when Edward has p*ssed on the floor and Molly has lobbed her breakfast all over the back wall. She’s broken the last bloody Emma Bridgewater plate. Can you even call yourself an interiors blogger at this rate?! You resign to chucking the dirty knickers, four day old mug of coffee, and family cat, on top of the pile of rubbish that has managed to accumulate in the middle of the kitchen. By focusing on a small corner of the room you manage to create what looks like a little haven. The lighting is, of course, terrible, but you can Facetune this later. If you need a picture of your kids, you can’t, because they’re gurning as usual and Edward is still covered in p*ss. Fashion blogger? Better get out your marble wrapping paper and lay it out along the floor. Spend 30 mins arranging make-up products and scattering rose petals. You take 123 photos. Not one looks good. You upload anyway. Worst case scenario? A motivational quote penned in fancy calligraphy will have to do.
Instagram: Your Net-a-Porter delivery has arrived just in time for the exciting new launch party event that’s happening this evening. You do a quick unboxing for your 120k followers. Your following shoots up by 2k.
Reality: You hear a knock at the door. Postman?! You rush down the stairs. A ‘Sorry we missed you’ card lies on your doormat. You scream a bloodcurdling scream.
Instagram: You begin to work on your makeup. Your skin is so flawless and so perfect that you barely need a smidge. But you go for it anyway, because you can enhance that beauty like no one else. Becca’s highlight, Mac’s Velvet Teddy and Charlotte Tilbury’s Gold Bar complete your oh so Instagram look. You are flawless. Your hair falls into natural, beachy waves and you are ready to shine at this evenings glamourous party. Please note, if you have children you will have one in each arm whilst doing your face. #MasteringMotherhood
Reality: You’ve over lined your lips so much you resemble Pete Burns. Your eyeliner makes Amy Winehouse look tame. Said eyeliner has been removed and reapplied so many times that you temporarily lost your mind and just drew all over your face in a blind rage. Oh, and it’s raining. The hair you have styled for 2.5 hours in order to look ‘effortless’ will be ruined in seconds. The kids and screaming. Your house is a mess. You haven’t uploaded any new recipes to your cooking blog for almost 3 weeks.
Instagram: Event time. You are papped all through the evening. The other bloggers flock around you, because you are their Queen. Their aspiration. Their everything. You nibble at canapés, and sip at prosecco. You do not gain weight. The event is largely a success and everyone compliments you on your Gucci twinset. Glam, but understated. Once again, you got it oh so right. You bask in the knowledge that everyone at the next event will be wearing the New Look version. Poetically tragic.
Reality: You stand in the corner, awkwardly, pretending to text on your phone. You know no one, and you are in heels whilst everyone else is in flats. You are also sweating. Profusely. If you’re a Mummy blogger you needn’t worry, because you couldn’t attend the event as the brats decided to cut a tooth. If you’re any other type of blogger you needn’t worry either, as you were never invited in the first place.
Instagram: After you’ve cleansed, toned and moisturised, you decide on one final selfie before bed. You spray yourself with a thin layer of Caudalie face mist, to seal your unrivalled beauty. You then take said selfie (flawless) and upload before inserting the appropriate has tags- examples include, #MakeupFree #WomenEmpoweringWomen #MotherhoodUnplugged. The comments and likes will flood in. You smile, safe in the knowledge that you are beautiful, loved, and envied by absolutely everyone.
Reality: You are way too tired to cleanse tone and moisturise. You scrub your skin with a wipe until it’s red raw. Obviously, you react terribly and break out in hives. Either way, you know you need to upload that evening selfie. You spray yourself with a bit of evening mist (brand you’ve never heard of, sample size, got in a PR goodie bag, smells a bit like petrol). You take your selfie, face tune your blemishes away (hives, spots, upper lip hair) and upload before inserting the appropriate hashtags- examples include, #MakeupFree #WomenEmpoweringWomen #MotherhoodUnplugged #LikeForLike #CommentForComment. The likes trickle in. There are no comments. Must be the algorithm
Instagram: You go to bed revived, rested and feeling utterly blessed.
Reality: You go to bed sick, rumpled and feeling utterly cr*p.