General

I’ve wondered whether to re-write this post and make it more exciting; I’ve wondered whether to make a countdown of content and list my favourite blog posts from over the past eight years and fill it with throwback photos. But really, this post only needs simplicity.

It is equally as nerve-wracking as it is exciting to write. This marks a new era in my life, as hyperbolic as that may sound.

On March 29th 2012, I started this blog. Today, on September 3rd 2020, I am publishing my last post on tollydollyposhfashion.com and launching a new website – tolmeiagregory.com – tomorrow, on September 4th.

It’s also a little uncomfortable talking so directly about myself; it feels a bit icky and unnatural due to the nature of the work I’ve now committed myself to and how it’s not really being about me but the world and us, as a collective. However, this is is my space after all and even though I don’t get often share overly personal things, I recognise that it’s always appreciated more than I usually expect it to.

If you’ve been a follower for a while, you may have noticed that my blog has become increasingly inactive (and if you’ve only followed me recently, you might not know it even exists!). In the early days, I was posting daily updates, made up of outfit pictures taken on an iPhone 3 and collages of product photos to showcase celebrity style inspiration. In the latter days of covering climate activism and sustainable fashion? You’d be lucky to see me publishing once a month.

This change has been entirely natural. It has come after years of pouring my heart and energy into frequently uploaded content, after writing 830 blog posts (yes, you read that correctly; 830) and after growing from an 11-year-old to a fully independent 20-year-old who has her own bills to pay.

My content gradually evolved and blog posts went from taking half-an-hour to complete to several days, from photography to research. It’s not that it became unenjoyable but it was taking time away from what was becoming a more valuable use of my time.

Instagram and its many uses were slowly becoming a more powerful tool and it was freeing up that time. Instead of compiling long-form content, I was able to keep important conversations going around the clock. I could make things more personal, allow my content to become more accessible to all and share other people’s work and educational content in a much easier way. My platform has blossomed into something stronger than it was before. I’m also more than certain that most people’s digital attention spans have lessened since 2012, as sad as that may be.

Along the way, I’ve even become self-employed and started a career as an illustrator. Launching GIPHY stickers in 2018 was one of the best decisions I ever made because it has given me freedom and flexibility and the skills to run my own business.

As a now self-proclaimed activist – the ability to share and inspire people instantly is more important to me now than having to maintain a platform fit for consistent levels of high-quality long-form content. After all, we’re facing a Climate Emergency – time is of the essence. Of course, I’ve always appreciated quality over quantity but there are now more conversations to be had and topics to cover than there ever was before.

I will note that alongside this, personal wellbeing has to come first. At the time of writing this, I am coming towards the end of a month-long break from keeping on top of my social media platforms; the first time I’ve ever done this. The only Instagram and Twitter-ing I’ve engaged with have been for my local activism group back home, where I live-tweeted an action from my parent’s house in Italy as they mass-cycled down a dual-carriageway in the UK. Proof that everybody can get involved, even if you aren’t physically on the streets!

I also never aimed to keep up my blog for this long. It was a summer project, initially. It was just an idea that 11-year-old Tolly had, to combine her interest in fashion and the digital world into one. It was never my goal to become an ‘influencer’ or to have my work featured in publications and to be nominated for awards (and most recently, turn them down, especially when the nomination is coming from a publication promoting consumerism and unhealthy diet culture for women). Just as it was never my aim to become an activist. This has all been a truly organic progress; I’ve just been going along for a ride with what this has all become.

I’m sure my 11-year-old self would be proud of everything she’s achieved over the years and would be even prouder to know that I am using my platform in such a positive way. Letting go of this blog is much like letting go of my aspirations of becoming a fashion designer – yes, it’s a big decision to make but it makes sense. It’s making room for something even better and more fulfilling.

However, I’ve decided to not let go of this blog entirely. I want it to carry on existing because it is much more than a fashion blog. I’ve only archived or deleted a handful of blog posts. Every other bad blog post is still up. Every outfit post taken by my dad from dodgy angles before we discovered what ‘bokeh’ means, still lives on. Every most-likely problematic thought that I’d yet to educate myself on, is still there (because it’s possible to evolve, grow and learn and unlearn).

Every post dedicated to a fast-fashion brand or a company I wouldn’t dare support nowadays is still available for all to see (something that often surprises new followers is that I haven’t always been an ethical fashion advocate). The blog post that documented the traumatic experience of surviving an earthquake a few years ago, is still up to revisit.

It’s a time capsule that is still full of resources for young people just finding their footing in things like sustainable fashion or becoming themselves. It would be a waste to let it go, but it also wouldn’t feel right to carry it all with me as I keep riding along this journey. I tried that; I copied old content – the really good stuff – over to my new website, and it just didn’t feel right.

I want to thank each and every person who has ever sat down and read even a sentence of this blog. You have been a part of my growing up, my childhood and my ‘becoming’. I know – dramatic.

It’s not as if this is goodbye forever, it’s just a goodbye to this slice of my internet pie. And if you’re curious what the next chapter looks like, you can go and have a read on my new blog or, of course, continue to stay updated elsewhere like on Instagram and Twitter. I’ll also have a limited run of art prints available, which is another new exciting venture for me.

I will still be writing content that is longer than an Instagram caption but it’s not something I’ll be tied to. There will no longer be the pressure to be a ‘blogger’. I can just be me and when something worth talking about comes up, it will have a new home – the home that will also belong to my work as an activist and a digital artist.

And to be completely honest? I think I may have slightly outgrown this nickname or ‘brand’. It was lovely and endearing in the beginning, taken from a story my mum made up when I was little but I’ve admittedly reached the point where I feel a little bit embarrassed every time I share my username with someone in person because, really, I’m not Tolly Dolly anything…

I’m Tolmeia.

One year ago, I rather naively and nervously journeyed to London to participate in Extinction Rebellion’s first ‘International Rebellion’. I say naively because, at that stage in my activism journey, I had little to no knowledge of my rights to protest, the different laws I could potentially be breaking and the risks I was opening myself up to by partaking in an act of civil disobedience, to demand drastic climate action.

I want to preface this by saying I understand the flaws of the movement as a whole. In an ideal world, there would be no need for separate movements and organisations to focus on the climate crisis – we would work together, as a civilisation to mitigate the effects of an emergency that is very much still ongoing despite the current global pandemic that is upon us.

We would (and should) go to great lengths to raise the voices of those who have been paving the way since before climate change was ever something we had to consider.

I understand that the mostly positive experiences I have had over the past year, have come out of a place of privilege and out of the little risk to my safety, wellbeing and overall security. I will never beat around the bush that this type of activism can often cost a fair amount of money (whether it’s for covering accommodation, food, travel or other expenses), take a lot of time and have potential legal consequences.

Not everybody can afford to take two weeks off of work or travel the country frequently, no matter how much they understand and appreciate the severity of the issue.

Direct action is not the be-all and end-all of activism (believing this is a very ableist view on activism) nor is it always the best way to bring about change – it is simply one way and one way that has come to resonate and work for me on an individual basis. However, I will note that there are many ways you can support a movement like XR, without taking to the streets.

This has been a year of my personal rebellion. It’s been one of learning and growing and coming to understand what I value in a world which is constantly challenging my reasons for staying hopeful.

If anything, this isn’t going to be about ecological collapse, facing mass extinction or discussing the reasons for acting in the first place – this is going to be about community and how now, in a time of global uncertainty, I have never felt more sure that coming together and holding hands with each other (metaphorically, of course), is the most important thing we can do to challenge the systems that are failing us. In a sense, this is a journal entry.

On this day last year, I showed up and I knew nobody.

But what came out of that day was discovering that being a part of a community isn’t about knowing anybody; it’s about coming together for a common cause, a goal or a vested interest and holding each other up on the journey that you’re all on.

It’s about the small in-between moments that we’re currently having to replicate virtually – the brief check-ins, the tilt of the head before you step in and ask if somebody’s okay. All of the things that seem like common decency but are often left behind in the fast-paced world we’ve become so used to.

Obviously, this is coming from the perspective of someone living in a country where we’ve all become so wrapped up in capitalism’s individualism that these basic human interactions seem to have slipped away.

This reflection comes at a time which feels more poignant than ever because if it wasn’t for community, the lockdown that many of us in 2020 suddenly find ourselves in, would be an even harder struggle.

There would be no mutual aid groups, clapping on our doorsteps (no matter how politically divisive that may be), singing in the streets or motivational messages being chalked onto pavements.

That first day of my rebellion, which helped in tipping the agenda to a point in which the UK Parliament declared a climate emergency, was my first true taste of this.

There was a moment that may sound insignificant if you’ve been fortunate enough to find yourself among what feels like ‘your people’ before, which always comes to mind. I can’t quite remember if this was the Monday or the Friday in which I returned for a second day of action after not being able to sit still for the days in between but I’m not sure it matters.

I was sat in the middle of Oxford Circus as the sun began to set on an unusually warm (well – is it really unusual when 2019 was one of the hottest years on record?) April evening surrounded by unfamiliar faces when a selection of biscuits started to be passed around. (The biscuits aren’t an important part of this story – if anything, it just makes the story more entertaining to retell).

Maybe it was just something about the way the light was falling on the pink boat that sat in front of me, the sheer monumental feeling of being a part of what would likely become a piece of history or the beauty of something as simple as a biscuit to fuel me after a day of exhaustion – but I felt at peace.

I felt okay in all my fear and the few strands of hope I was clinging on to with my recent realisation that there is no going back from the impact that’s been made on our planet, our world and our futures.

No matter what changes we make, no matter how we start to adapt, we will, unfortunately, see the consequences of our actions (more on this here).

I felt comforted, supported and suddenly not so alone.

And I now know that I was there by that pink boat draped in sunlight with many people I would now call friends, without knowing it.

I now know that the person who spoke in the middle of Piccadilly Circus about losing their father and how it made fighting for climate justice all the more personal, as Talia.

I now know the person who boarded the same return coach home as me, with the blue hair and the Irish accent, as Jess.

I now know the name of the person wearing the XR-themed jewellery who also boarded that very same coach and sat in the seat behind me. A few months later, I would find myself holding their hands with my eyes filled with tears, as they were lifted into a police van for continuing to take a stand.

I can now recognise faces in crowds and the people behind the instruments that echo through the streets when we come together as a band made up of strangers.

I remember those I’ve shared vulnerable moments with, and I’ve reconnected with them on the basis that we know we can find ourselves in a safe space when we see each other again.

I’ve had low moments and phone calls to get me through that I never would have received otherwise. I’ve had emails filled with wisdom and messages full of love.

Even when I’ve shown up alone, it’s never felt that way. It’s like one big interconnected family that was created out of something as necessary as wanting to protect life.

I’ve felt seen and heard. I’ve felt accepted without judgement because this cause doesn’t depend on who you are. It just needs you to show up in all your true colours; with tears and grief and hope and all.

Imagining a new world isn’t easy for me. There are too many obstacles in the way, too many reasons to look away and crumble at reality. But I now know that a new world relies on us. It relies on us being an us. It relies on a collective. A we. A sense of togetherness and solidarity for those who aren’t within our reach.

The belief that nobody should have no-one to turn to.

It’s self-sufficient but only if the self means more than one. It’s a world where we rely on each other because we know that there is nothing stronger. I see hope in each other more than anything else because there is never-ending proof that we work.

So, if anything, this is a thank you.

A thank you to every person that has welcomed and accepted me and not only understood but related to my fears. It’s a thank you to the shoulders I’ve cried on without barely having spoken a word.

A thank you for the joy and the laughter when there are so many reasons to stay in the darkness – because what’s the reason for fighting for life if we don’t celebrate the simple act of living?

In this past year, I’ve lived deeply but only because I’ve found people who have given me the space to do so.

For me, celebrating life despite all of the injustices and all of the battles we’ve yet to face is as good an act of rebellion as any other.

As the end of the year (and the decade) draws to a close, I thought I would round things off by answering some questions I’ve received lately. The end of this year has been one of work, activism and personal-related growth which explains the lack of longer-form content I’ve managed to publish as of late. 2019 has been a big one, so, let’s talk about it…

WHAT I WORE: Faux Fur Coat (Jumble sale – old) // Carhartt Dungarees (Depop) // Ruffle Blouse (Vintage Kilo Sale) // Teddy Jumper (Old) // Butterfly Sneakers (PO-ZU)* // Hat (Hand-me-down)

What are you most proud of this year?

My confidence. At the beginning of the year, I was only just starting to tip my toe into the waters of public speaking, attending events and taking part in direct forms of activism. I remember being extremely nervous to take part in my first demo (which was about protecting the rights of garment workers in Bangladesh), so much so that I lost my appetite on the day.

Since then, I feel so much more at ease when it comes to speaking on panels or putting myself in vulnerable positions for the causes that are close to my heart. I’ve realised that I do know what I’m talking about and that the reason I’m invited to speak and have my voice is heard is that people believe in my work and trust my point of view. 

It’s been a huge lesson in the fact that practice makes (almost) perfect. The more you push yourself to do something, the easier it becomes. Once you’ve pushed past that initial barrier of anxiety and nerves, you won’t have to go through it again.

It’s just been a very big year for me both personally and for my work. I’ve done more than I ever have before and that’s exactly what I wanted out of the year. 

What started your interest in sustainability and climate change?

Although I may not have answered this question directly on my blog before, I’ve answered it a dozen or more times this year in various interviews. The word ‘interest’ has started to baffle me though because shouldn’t we all have an interest in the climate? It’s about all of us, not just certain individuals who seem to have grasped the concept.

But to answer this question in more simple terms, my sustainable journey started in the aftermath of the Rana Plaza garment factory collapse when I watched The True Cost documentary for the first time. It was my lightbulb moment that started the line of questioning which has since led to me realising that we are facing a climate emergency and that big industry and those in power play a huge role in it.

Fashion will always be my main interest but in educating myself about one aspect of life, I have in turn realised the true scope of so many issues that are at play.

What’s inspiring you right now?

As much as I’ve spoken about how we need to move away from relying on youth activists and praising them rather than acting on their words, I have to say that the clear cut, no-nonsense attitudes of people my age and younger is just so incredibly refreshing. We will not take inaction and we will not stand for injustice. 

For as long as I know there are these strong, powerful voices from people who are sticking to their guns and not taking half-hearted commitments from those who can enact real change, I will feel supported and motivated to keep going.

I’ve also been inspired by fellow digital artists who are using their talents to spread information in creative ways, such as the duo from Adapt and collectives such as No Planet No Fun. The #ProtestByDesign hashtag has also been really enjoyable to follow.

  LOCATION: Paris, France 🇫🇷

How did you become an activist and get such a big platform?

I think I became an activist accidentally. I suppose before participating in any form of direct action, I would have described or seen myself as an advocate for certain issues but the activist label never felt right until I was on the streets and actually practising what I was preaching.

It feels like the right term for me, especially as somebody with an online presence because I often get categorised as an influencer and I’ve always been unsure about what that means. I don’t want it to implicate that I’m selling products constantly and that my platforms are like billboards; I want people to know that I’m doing a lot more than just tweeting links to petitions and reposting news articles.

In terms of having a ‘big platform’, I have the past year and a half to thank as I’ve seen the biggest amount of growth in the shortest space of time. I’ve been fortunate enough to have received some incredible features and interviews from various publications and platforms which have enabled many more new people to discover me.

I also think there’s a growing need from social media users to find the types of people who align with their values and who are able to easily educate them on a relatable level and that’s exactly what I’m aiming to do.

Do you have plans for 2020?

I’m officially a rent-paying individual so, I’m expecting a lot of my time will now be focused on generating an income as an artist! But at the same time as that, I want to continue going with the flow and learning as I go along. That’s one huge benefit to being self-employed; I’m not restricted which means I’m able to explore whatever avenues I want to.

I’ve been thinking about how I could start to use my knowledge as an activist to advise others and to ensure that the term ‘climate emergency’ isn’t used loosely and that change genuinely happens, no matter what it might look like. This is thanks to my experience of attending Climate Launch Pad in Amsterdam, which made me realise that my voice could be used in more ways than it already is.

In terms of solid plans? I’ve been confirmed as an ambassador for an upcoming event next summer alongside some other activists who I already love and admire, so, that’s something to look forward to.

If you have any more questions for me, my comments are always open for you to use…

Thank you for your continued support over this past year. Here’s to another which hopefully brings about the radical action we’re looking for…

This is the speech I wrote about feeling proud of youth activists for the November 1st 2019 climate strike in Gloucester, UK.

As a quick introduction to who I am – I’m Tolly, I’m 19, I’m part of Extinction Rebellion and I’ve been on my environmentalist journey ever since I educated myself on the impacts of the fashion industry (the industry that I originally wanted to break into) several years ago.

The last time I wrote a speech for an action similar to this was back in July of this year. I wanted it to be a way of appreciating the greatness that has come out of this movement, like the community I have found in it.

I suppose I could do that again; I could praise us all for being here and I could thank you. However, since then, I have come to this understanding that we really shouldn’t have to be here and that we shouldn’t be being thanked or being admired for being such inspirational young people.

In that speech, amongst the heartfelt admittance of love for everyone who was stood alongside me, I also said that we shouldn’t have to be here. And it’s true; we shouldn’t have to be.

Any adult with any small sense of power and opportunity to instigate change should not be looking at us in awe. I don’t say this to the parents who are just struggling to get by and to put food on their children’s plate. I don’t say this to the families in the Global South who have had next to no part in the harm that has been done.

I say this to the leaders; to the politicians; and to the CEOs.

You should be looking at us and feeling a sense of shame; not a sense of pride.

Because this is nothing new. For example, Exxon; an oil and gas company and one of the highest greenhouse gas emitters in the world, is in court at the moment in New York, as they are being trialled for not telling the truth about the climate crisis to their investors – yet back in 1982, scientists working with Exxon accurately predicted what would happen with carbon emissions and global warming. Back in 1982.

I certainly wasn’t born. My 31-year-old sister wasn’t born and my parents were only in their twenties. Then in 1991, oil and gas company Shell, released a public information film acknowledging that there is a – “Possibility of change faster than at any time since the end of the ice age… too fast for life to adapt without severe dislocation”.

There’s even a New Zealand newspaper clipping from 1912 that suggested that burning coal may have a considerable effect on the earth in a few centuries. This is nothing new for anyone, so, why are we, the children of that generation being called heroes?

“The kids are going to save us! We’ll be fine! The next generation gives me so much hope!”

I don’t want to stand up here and bring you a sense of hope. We are not here because we want to be, we are here because you have not listened. You did not listen back in 1912, in 1982 or even in 1991 and despite the millions of people who have come out and campaigned over the past year, you are not listening now.

This is also not new for the 164 activists who died in 2018 alone, for defending their land and their right to a prosperous and healthy future, many of whom were from indigenous communities. If anything, those are the people we should be listening to.

We are so lucky and I think that’s part of the reason why we are not being listened to, here at home in the UK. A lot of us are going to be okay, for the meantime, especially those in privileged, high-up places. They don’t have the fear that so many other people have to live with, every single day.

But the climate crisis doesn’t have borders. It’s not just about here in Gloucestershire; it’s not just about here in England or in the UK. That’s what makes the climate crisis an immigration crisis, too. According to the International Organisation for Migration, 1 in 30 people in the world could be displaced due to climate impacts by 2050.

The biggest lie you can tell is that the climate crisis has borders and that for as long as other countries are so-say doing worse than us, we can rest easy. We simply cannot.

When somebody tells me that I should go and protest in another country, say India for example, not only can I tell them that actually, that’s not necessary because over 27 Indian cities took part in the September climate strikes and that Extinction Rebellion India has a website I can link them to – I can also tell them, that actually, we’re not doing better.

In the EU, the UK currently gives more subsidies to fossil fuels than any other country. Let’s also not forget the number of products that we import from all over the world, either. I once raised this point with an MP who ended up laughing in my face despite the fact I’d been crying moments prior, due to the inescapable fear that my future is being threatened.

Linking this back into how I found myself in this position; not only do we subsidise fossil fuels more than any other country in the EU, we also buy more clothes per person.

And where are those clothes manufactured? A lot of the time; places such as India. But I’ll leave that one for the local activists. It’s not a laughing matter but I joke, obviously. This is all our responsibility, especially the responsibility of those who sit and praise us without actually taking any action.

I don’t know about you, but I am not here because I want to be. I’m here because I don’t want to look back and say that I did nothing. And neither should the people who are supposedly here to protect us.

We want to inspire people to act, yes, but we are not here to be inspirational. We are here because what other choice do we have? Don’t just look at us as shiny, bright faces with funny placards; look at us as people who have hopes and dreams that we’re beginning to let go of. Look at us as people who know that others are suffering and that right now, we’re all just playing one big waiting game.

If you are really inspired – you will act now.

And if you are able to, you will also vote for the right people on December 12^th.

Climate and environmental activism isn’t new but its most certainly becoming a more common title that people are willing to label themselves as. The climate and ecological emergency is something that threatens all life on earth, so, it’s no surprise that over 7 million people have taken to striking and that over 31,000 people have expressed their interest in participating in Extinction Rebellion UK’s upcoming actions…

However, I recently asked my Instagram followers what stops them from participating in direct climate activism (like the recent Global Climate Strike) and the responses made it incredibly clear why we need to be listening to the masses in order to make movements more accessible for all.

Answers included mental health; physical disabilities; chronic pain; lack of time due to lifestyle and education; anxiety and panic disorders; caring for children and even living in countries which don’t allow for freedom of speech – there are a myriad of reasons why many people can’t take to physical forms of activism (such as a swarming, blocking roads and taking part in strikes and marches).

It wouldn’t be right for me to offer solutions to these very specific and individual cases which often don’t have quick fixes, however, I do believe I can help break down the idea that direct climate activism (or any direct activism, really) can only be supported in those sometimes physically draining and emotionally-tolling activities.

Climate activism (by the likes of Extinction Rebellion – which the majority of my direct activism experience comes from) involves so many roles behind-the-scenes that can be just as vital as those willing to break laws or put themselves up for arrest. Using my own personal experience, I’ve created this basic list which covers some of the ways that I have indirectly supported climate activists and how you can, too…

~ ARRESTEE SUPPORT ~

I have attended court hearings and final verdict hearings in support of local rebels after they have been arrested on actions. This has involved attending court from a few hours to a full day, listening to the proceedings and providing emotional and physical support when needed. For example; giving hugs, doing coffee runs or making sure that people are in the right place at the right time.

How to do it?

Connect with your local activist groups or have an Ecosia (web browser) search for upcoming court dates related to recent actions. Even if you don’t know the individuals, court cases are open to public viewing which means you can come and show that they have people on their side. If you’re part of Extinction Rebellion, you can also put yourself up for an official Arrestee Support role in your local group.

~ ART & DESIGN ~

I’ve created graphics and flyer designs for local actions, in order to support the promotion of actions (even if I haven’t been part of them in a direct way). For example, I created the map used during Extinction Rebellion Bristol’s Summer Uprising, which displayed things like accessible toilets, the kitchen and camping site. I’ve also painted and designed banners for ‘swarming’ (blocking roads) which have been used on actions and become part of my local group’s identity – using upcycled materials, of course.

How to do it?

If you have the tools – you are free to create whatever you think can aid a movement. For Extinction Rebellion, there is a full guide to the ART that is used across the Rebellion; it’s important to stick to the guides as it keeps things as impactful as possible.

~ SOCIAL MEDIA ~

On a similar vein, a lot of the work I do is on social media. I’ve designed the official GIF stickers for Extinction Rebellion; once again, designed graphics for my local groups and upcoming events and have promoted actions in order to reach wider audiences who might be interested in supporting the movement and telling the truth about the climate emergency.

How to do it?

Anyone can support climate activism by using social media. Share tweets from activists (making sure to include minorities or groups who don’t always get the spotlight) or promote upcoming actions. Follow activist groups in your area, even if you’re unable to support in person. With activist groups, typically, this kind of role can be shared so that no one person is solely relied upon, meaning this is a really great role if you have limited time on your hands but you still want to play your part.

~ OUTREACH ~

Supporting direct-action doesn’t always mean taking to the streets or participating in a march or strike; it can also mean doing outreach to find those who are willing to take to the streets, by spending a weekend or a few hours doing things such as leafleting or stall-running. Locally, I’ve worked on stalls which have combined leafleting and activities such as fabric printing (because who doesn’t want activist slogans all over their clothes?). If you’re able to bake – vegan treats like flapjacks and cookies go down a treat and are a great way of raising donations.

How to do it?

Once again, it’s important to connect with a local activist group to see how and when they need your help. If you want to help out with something as simple as baking then it may just be a case of knowing the dates for upcoming events and having a place to drop them off.

~ WELLBEING ~

Speaking of flapjacks… I’ve baked a whole load for actions because activists need food to keep them going! My vegan flapjack recipe (well, this vegan flapjack recipe) is now infamous to my local XR group and works as a great energy boost and stomach filler. If any restaurant owners or chefs are reading – sometimes restaurants even provide free meals for hundreds of people on site (like this incredible vegan curry pictured above). Wellbeing isn’t just providing food though; it can mean emotional support and offering a shoulder to cry on or it can mean donating woolly hats or sunglasses for actions (depending on the season, of course).

How to do it?

Once again, get in touch with your local activist group to see what they’re in need of. If you can’t (or don’t want to) offer emotional support then ask what physical items they’re in need of. Have some spare yoga mats lying about or some reusable water bottles that you’ve collected too many of? Activists taking part in non-violent direction action can always do with things like these.

For the upcoming International Rebellion in London (starting 7th October 2019), October Sustenance are looking for support both in the kitchen and in receiving donations.

~ FINANCES ~

I’ve given to legal crowdfunds for activists who have been arrested in my area and I’ve helped raise donations by manning those outreach stalls and baking those all-important vegan flapjacks. Donations are highly appreciated, especially for legal matters because stepping up to fight for climate justice shouldn’t cost as much as it does for those who are able to put themselves into an arrestable position.

How to do it?

Donate to an environmental organisation or a local activist group nearby to you or find a relevant crowdfund which is in need of support. Crowdjustice is a great place to start.

Have more questions about how you can support climate activism? Ask away in the comments!

Arctic permafrost is rapidly melting.
France is sweltering in record-breaking heat.
India is suffering from severe droughts and water shortages.
Mozambique is recovering from a devastating cyclone.
The UK is being hit with heaving rain and flooding.
Guadalajara faces 1.5 metres of hail in summertime.

We only have 11 years.
We only have 5 years.
We can’t go above 2 degrees Celsius of warming.
100 companies are responsible for 71% of global emissions.

It’s an Emergency.

So, recycle.
Reuse.
Don’t drive.
Use a reusable bottle.
Avoid single-use plastic.
Shop small.
Shop organic.
Save water.
Go vegan.

Be hopeful.

But it’s hard to be hopeful, right?

On my journey of eco-awareness, I’m currently at the stage of beginning to accept that perhaps, we don’t have 11 years. Maybe, it’s actually too late. Maybe, this is the beginning of the end.

In fact, I’d say ’11 years’ is becoming more of a metaphorical statement. In the academic (and what from what I’m gathering, slightly controversial) paper that gave me the last push to start writing this, ‘Deep Adaptation: A Map for Navigating Climate Tragedy‘ written by Professor Jem Bendell, it states that the IPCC (Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change) which made this 11 year claim we’re all focusing on, has a history of underestimating the rate of environmental changes, due to how the panel works over long periods of time in conducting reports.

This means that 11 years is likely far too optimistic. Some suggest we should be looking at 5 years, or even less; with things like melting permafrost (a layer of soil that remains frozen for long stretches of time) that risks releasing 3 gigatonnes of methane, with a far stronger effect on climate than CO2, we could face the real effects of the climate crisis in the next decade.

(I’m hesitant to say we most likely will face this. Nothing is certain, of course. If anything, we have that to cling on to.)

With information like this being fed to us in the palms of our hands on a daily basis (thanks to the privilege of being able to educate ourselves with smartphones and access to the internet), it’s no surprise that ‘eco-anxiety’ is on the rise and papers like that of Professor Bendell’s are now becoming something we have to read with a sense of caution.

Is it healthy for us to constantly be bombarded with news and statistics that suggest that we are currently amidst the world’s Sixth Mass Extinction? Will we read something insightful and educational or will we come away feeling distraught and emotionally exhausted?

It’s only recently that I have reached this point of acceptance and that what I read and learn has become less a tool for inspiring positive change but more a way of coping. Although I don’t want this piece to become pro-one specific solution or example of how to move forward, this shift in how I’m approaching the climate conversation has most certainly derived from my experiences with Extinction Rebellion.

In the Extinction Rebellion handbook, ‘This Is Not A Drill‘, the chapter on ‘Climate Sorrow’ by Susie Orbach (a British psychotherapist), resonated with me greatly.

As much as I talk openly about climate issues (whether they be fashion-related or about Earth, as a whole), I still find it hard to genuinely get a grasp on what it all means. I’m fortunate that living in the UK, the effects of the climate emergency have yet to hit with full force which means I’m not seeing it on my doorstep, yet.

We still see weather over 30 degrees Celsius as a ‘heatwave’. We still see storms as a burst of ‘heavy rain’. This makes it hard for me to imagine what our lives will become and (sometimes) to truly believe in what I’m saying.

But there is enough evidence to now suggest that it is too late; that those heatwaves and the risk of flooding we face are just a glimpse of what’s to come; that when I’m 50 and the UK has supposedly reached its net-zero target (somehow, even though the Government is happy to watch the expansion of Heathrow Airport go ahead and to reject all recommendations that could ensure a more sustainable fashion industry), the world will be changed forever; that the technologically advanced future we’d envisioned with flying cars could become one of starvation and war.

Professor Bendell also wrote in ‘This Is Not A Drill’ and a line that I’ve come back to several times over and that has managed to make me cry on more than one occasion, is this –

“Most of all I now grieve for the young, and the more beautiful world they will never inherit”.

I am coming to terms with this. I am coming to terms with the uncertainty of my future. I am coming to terms with the fact that the uncertainty of my future is no longer about the ‘big life stuff’ (my plans, my career, my hopes, my dreams) but about the uncertainty of our existence and how painful it may become.

I essentially, feel hopeless.

Yet, I’m not giving up. I believe there is a difference. To give up is to look the other way and carry on, business as usual. It is to let those in power, off the hook. To feel hopeless is to accept your feelings and go through the motions of experiencing grief for what we have lost already and for what we will lose in that future of uncertainty. Giving up is letting that hopelessness win.

In line with this, it’s known that when we face a tragic event or overcome trauma, we are often forever changed by what took place. Take my own personal experience – I am the survivor of four major earthquakes that happened in Italy during 2016.

You can read my full account a few days after the initial shock here but essentially, I have lived through seeing my life flash before my eyes. I feared for my life. As I crawled under a table as the earth roared from beneath me, I feared that I would never meet my youngest nephew who had recently been born. I feared so much and then it was over. I was safe.

Admittedly, I wasn’t a whole new person when I moved away from that situation (I put this down to being extremely fortunate in that I came away without a scratch) but I remember that feeling of wanting to take on the world with a new sense of ambition. If I could survive that, I could survive anything.

So, it makes me wonder; can we preemptively take on the world with a new sense of purpose, if we can already see the disaster about to happen? You can’t predict an earthquake happening in the dead of night but you can predict that we have a decade to lessen the effects of a climate catastrophe.

Can we use that hopelessness that would usually happen in the midst of an ongoing tragedy, to prepare us? Can we use it to experience the next decade at its fullest potential? Can we start to appreciate the Earth for all that it is, when we know we may lose our place on it?

WHAT I WORE: Floral Blouse (Vintage Kilo Sale) // Carhartt Dungarees (Depop) // Butterfly Sneakers (Po-Zu)*

There is power in feeling hopeless because it gives you time to mourn, grieve and then spend your time wisely. How you do that, is up to you. Whether you join a Rebellion; continue to make lifestyle changes that are not only beneficial to the planet that we may leave behind but beneficial to you and your health, or whether you simply keep these conversations going on in your personal circles in order to help others come to terms with climate sorrow and this sense of hopelessness that is all too easy to become overwhelmed by – making the most out of what we have, is one of the best things we can do.

I’ll be on the streets; singing, dancing, holding hands and uniting with others who are all in the same (pink) boat.

After all, if what we’re facing – impending doom, an apocalypse; whatever name you want to give it – is already making us want to give up, why on Earth would we want to make our remaining time on this planet, any more unbearable?

If you are in need of support when it comes to eco-anxiety, activism and anything else related to this topic, there are wellbeing resources available from Extinction Rebellion, as well as XR Coaching and the Good Samaritans Crisis Helpline.

In the past few months, I have taken my activism offline and out onto the streets in support of causes I care about, so, I thought I would share some essential tips for first-time protesters, as I know it can be a little overwhelming when you don’t know what to expect. These tips can apply to a mix of protests and marches, although they are heavily influenced by the recent Extinction Rebellion actions that took place in London.

Work out if protesting is for you…

Taking action in real life isn’t for everybody, no matter how much we’d like to be supporting a cause. This can be for a whole array of reasons, whether it’s to do with mental health, physical health and abilities, age, race or even location; the list goes on.

Although my personal protest experience is still fairly limited, I’ve experienced a few different variations of protest; from peaceful marches (such as the 2018 Women’s March in Florence, Italy and one of the initial Youth Strike for Climate marches in London), to small intimate direct calls for change (such as the protest in support of the Bangladesh Accord in 2019) and even the larger scale and long-lasting protests of Extinction Rebellion.

In my own experience, the sense of community from all of the various protests I’ve been a part of has alleviated many of my concerns and anxious feelings. Once you’re amongst your people – I say ‘your people’ because you are all coming together for the same cause, after all – you’ll realise that you’re not alone and whatever you’re trying to achieve can be done as a united group.

I don’t feel confident in giving one set piece of advice on working out whether protesting is for you because everyone is so different (and so is every strike, march and protest), however, if being alone is a big concern to you, either stay put until you can find a protesting friend to join you on the journey or be open to meeting new people on the day (more on this later).

Put safety first and come prepared…

Here is your protest starter kit, which you can comfortably pack into a backpack:

*Why a phone number? Because, depending on the protest’s actions, you could be putting yourself in the position of possible arrest. This doesn’t necessarily apply to all protests but it’s recommended if you want to put your mind to ease, especially if your memory isn’t the strongest. Use a pen and write a helpful number on your arm (whether this is a parent/guardian or close-friend).

*For food, I suggest a snack box filled with fruit or on-the-go snacks like crisps and biscuits. For a larger option, if you know you won’t be able to easily access a shop or a full meal during the day, I suggest stocking up on something simple (and plastic-free!) like a Gregg’s vegan sausage roll. Sorry for being exclusionary if you don’t live in the UK.

Assess the situation for you and you only…

This is super important to remember because everybody attends protests for different reasons, and we all have our own personal limitations and boundaries. For example, when joining in with the actions of Extinction Rebellion’s International Rebellion, I knew I did not want to put myself in the position to be arrested.

It wasn’t because I didn’t care enough to stand up for my cause, it was because I knew I wouldn’t have been able to cope with it or manage it on my own. I made it very clear with the groups of people I teamed up with on the days I was there and I also made sure to stay vigilant when I was in prominent police presence.

(I will note that theoretically, you should only get arrested if you want to get arrested. You are given warnings if you are partaking in an arrestable action (like road-blocking), so, you can decide whether to move on or face the consequences.)

However, as a speaker during the Rebellion mentioned, this is particularly important to be mindful of if you are part of a minority or are a person of colour, as systemic racism is apparent and we cannot ignore that, especially in a scenario where illegal actions may be happening. If you are a white person, pay attention to and support those around you, particularly those you know are already made more vulnerable.

Look and listen…

On a similar vein, it’s vital to pay attention to what is actually going on around you, within the protest. If you ever feel unsafe or uncertain, make sure to pull yourself out of that situation, even if it means leaving others behind. This applies to just needing to rehydrate or find food, as well. If we don’t look after ourselves, it’s a lot harder to look after others (and the planet!).

Also ensure that you are listening to those leading the way, whether that be the group leading a protest or whether that’s the police. Non-violent and peaceful protests are collective actions which involve listening and working together, as a team.

Find your people…

As I’ve briefly already mentioned, if you are alone and feel slightly lost and unsure, I highly recommend finding others who are in a similar boat, even if this means going out of your comfort zone and introducing yourselves to groups of strangers.

Not only will this make you less vulnerable but it will also make your experience much more enjoyable – because even if protests are usually focusing on a pressing issue, they can also be a way to lift your spirits.

Extinction Rebellion is particularly great at ensuring nobody is left alone, not only because they advise buddying up but also because the group is so close-knit and supportive. My Instagram feed is now scattered with fellow-protesters that I’ve met along the way and I experienced some truly beautiful moments with them – like sitting in the middle of Oxford Circus, sharing biscuits with strangers as the sun was setting. That’s not something you do every day.

Also, remember to look out for local groups which are focusing on issues you care about closer to home, as often larger protests are held in capital cities which makes them less accessible to those who would have to travel.

I’m now part of my local Extinction Rebellion group which has meetings once a week, to discuss plans for local actions and to express our climate-related thoughts and feelings in an open and honest space.

Those are some very basic tips for attending your first protests! If you have any more questions, ask away in the comments…

Dear Earth,

If I had to choose a relationship status to correctly label my feelings towards you, I think I’d choose – ‘It’s complicated’.

It’s not because I don’t find you utterly beautiful; in fact, I probably don’t appreciate your beauty as much as I should do. I undoubtedly take you for granted and haven’t ever really taken the time to fully comprehend all of the incredible aspects of life you give to me and the rest of the world, every single day.

My knowledge of plant and animal species is admittedly, not the largest and I don’t always take the time to stop and smell the roses when I pass them by. I also don’t pick up litter to restore your beauty when necessary because I’m often thinking of myself, first.

It’s not because I don’t care about your future, either; I do. There’s more I could be doing and we both know that. I live with that guilt every day, brought upon by myself as well as the system I was born into, but I hope you understand that it’s because sometimes putting myself first is necessary, especially when I know your future could be a difficult and scary one to face. As much as I wish it didn’t, your future puts a heavy weight on my shoulders that I sometimes have to lighten.

I would say it’s not because you, yourself are scary and that all of the uncertainty being created is caused by mankind but I do have experience in your sheer force and strength. I’ve felt you move beneath my feet, seen you make my family cry in fear and heard your roar so loud it was almost deafening. I know what it means to see loss happen under your control and I know more loss is occurring every day just from how we treat you.

I understand that you can’t help it and it’s just the way you were created but I will never be able to forget the trauma that you caused me. I say you are beautiful but there are parts of you that I’m still working on rebuilding my connection to, like the mountains; they still look different to me.

Despite how much I love you – or try to love you – I know you need more than what I, and everybody else, is giving you and that you need it urgently. I hope that you can see the people who are fighting for you, whether it’s on the streets and bridges we’ve built or if it’s in the countries that are already suffering.

We are here and we are trying and those who aren’t listening will face the consequences along with us but without preparation. We have abused you – I have abused you – and your sheer force and strength will soon come out in other, undefeatable ways. I don’t know what that will look like and I don’t believe anyone does, no matter how many predictions have been made.

I separate the world that I am living in from the earth that I am living on and I would like to try and keep a promise to start doing less of that. The world could come to an end as we know it but you have your strength; you don’t need me or anybody else. You will live on without me, even if you are in pain.

So yes, our relationship is complicated. Even now, these words do not seem adequate enough to express my concern and confusion towards you.

You deserve so much more than one day of the world’s attention. If with it, it didn’t bring pain, I would want you to use your mighty roar more often, so that more people would sit down and listen to what you’re trying to tell us. I have the ability to listen and learn from you, over the animals and creatures who will have to let it wash over them with no warning. So, why Earth, are people not listening to you? I’m listening. I’m listening even when I don’t know what to say back.

Happy Your Day. I hope I get to celebrate many more with you.

Love from,
Tolly

I wrote this blog post over a couple of weeks, letting some feelings sink in. Take this as a brain-dump (and a question) as sorts, as I try to re-evaluate my relationship with sustainability and activism…

Part of the reason my blog isn’t as active as it used to be is that over time, I’ve come to appreciate more considered, thought-out writing that is as helpful and as insightful as it can be for my readers.

However, that sort of content can take time and with the recent report from the IPCC (Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change) stating that by 2040 we could see major irreparable effects of global warming, it suddenly feels as if we don’t have that time and that the time we do have, shouldn’t be spent writing a blog or hosting an Instagram profile that’s main purpose is to try and get people to shop differently.

If 100 companies have been named as the source of more than 70% of the world’s greenhouse gas emissions by the Carbon Disclosure Project – most of which are companies leading the oil and coal industries -, then surely it’s time to focus our efforts on bringing them down than pointing a finger at people who aren’t turning down single-use straws or buying a new pair of pyjamas from Primark?

Before you attempt to predict where this piece is going, I’ll do the work for you by saying that I won’t be finishing it off by promoting the idea of small steps saving the world. I would hope to never enforce that idea, only the thought that of course, small steps are better than nothing and are often a great way to instil a peace of mind for our own consciences (as well as being a tool to continue these sorts of climate-related conversations, everyday).

In fact, it’s quite likely that the majority of this post will be uninspiring and demotivating. You may even come away from this blog post with dread.

For me, even making sure this piece is factually correct by researching different articles and reports, has left me feeling hopeless and honestly, rather terrified for our future. I feel as if I’m in a state of panic. Seeing a headline which talks about a possible outcome for babies born today, leaves a lump in my throat.

My youngest nephew has just turned two-years-old and he’ll only be entering his mid-twenties by the time the damage has – or could have – become unstoppable and the idea of that, has me contemplating my own future life choices and whether a family (one of blood and the same genetics) will be one of them.

The IPCC report states that the world’s carbon pollution would have to be cut dramatically to ensure that we are down to 0% carbon emissions by 2050. At the current rate and with no dramatic changes in place, whether it be politically or industry-wide, the world as we know it is heading for a 3-centigrade rise in warming and I don’t believe anyone truly knows what that would look like.

The dramatic changes which could be made to avoid this involve things such as increasing carbon tax (fellow eco-activist Alden Wicker touched on this here, discussing how it would hike up prices of services such as air travel yet could also be rewarding, as the tax contribution could be reinvested annually), as well as quite frankly, pulling the plugs on the worst offenders, even if it makes life a lot more inconvenient.

All of this has left me at a bit of a crossroads. How do I, as somebody who has a platform and has recently been given the ‘environmental activist’ label, move forwards? And in which direction should that be? As I said, it’s got me questioning whether I am using my time or my voice as wisely as I should be.

That’s not to say I’m going to let this all stop me; as Mary Robinson (former President of Ireland) so rightly said, “Feeling ‘this is too big for me’, is no use to anybody”. Quite a few of you wanted to remind me of that too, when I jumped to Instagram Stories stating I was having a crisis.

Thankfully since then, I’ve also seen a notable rise in people discussing topics such as fast-fashion and sustainability, even if they never have before. I think we have Stacey Dooley’s BBC documentary “Fashion’s Dirty Secrets” to thank for this.

With more people starting to add to the conversation at the same time as more frightening statistics, it’s important that we don’t let go of any kind of motivation or momentum that is spurring us on to make positive change because it shows that we care and that we don’t want to just sit back and accept the doom and gloom for normality.

The voice in the back of my head – or your head – telling me that I’m not doing enough, shouldn’t be one to guilt me or turn me into a fearful wreck; it should be the one I hold onto tightly and when I’m ready, use to the best of my abilities to prove that I can do enough and more.

The biggest question mark and challenge I currently face though, is what should I use it for? I then realised, often when discussing these issues, the term ‘we’ is used. We could this. We could that. Why aren’t we changing our actions? So, why aren’t I thinking of this as a chance to ask and include others? What can we do? How can we use our voices and progress forwards, even in a pit of despair and defeat?

So, yes, I’m going to ask you. Take it as a bit of research. I want to know how you think we – yes, you and me, the reader of this blog – can start to do more. I don’t mean in the sense of cutting down on plastic or going out to vote. Both of those options have their own levels of importance and there are many people already pushing these as ways to go (including myself).

What I mean is – how can we pull together and do something as a team (yes, we’re a team now) that can create some sort of positive change? How we can drag ourselves out of the comforts of clicktivism and into the scary waters of real-life action?

I’ve thrown this idea out into the world a couple of times recently, so, I’ll throw it around here publicly. Something I’d like to achieve in the future (possibly the very near future) is a campaign of sorts. I don’t know how I’ll do it but I know I’d love for you to all be involved somehow and perhaps this can be the beginning of working out what we can do to make it happen.

I’m leaving this blog post as a place to mull over ideas. What issues – within the realm of ethical and sustainable fashion – are the ones you believe we could really help to solve? The time we do have, I’d like to us to use wisely. Have a think, let me know and hopefully, we can all come out of this collective, climate change fear-induced slump together!

Whether you leave a comment on here or Instagram, send me a tweet or go one step further to express your thoughts via email (my inbox is always open!), I look forward to hearing from you.

In the meantime, not too long ago I discussed how to avoid becoming overwhelmed by sustainable issues, which might come in helpful if you’re experiencing similar feelings. I also recently posted on Instagram, a tiny list of things that are keeping me going.

Today marks 6 years of my blog and in honour of that, I want to get real with you. Currently, I feel as if I’m in a unique position with my blog. I’ve been working on it for a decent amount of time – a third of my life! – yet my progression and growth have been slow compared to others…

Photography by Olesya Gonta – shot in Florence, Italy in the summer of 2017.

WHAT I WORE: Yellow Leather Jacket (Vintage) // Blouse (Second-hand) // Skirt (Second-hand) // Recycled Denim Chokers (Yours Again)* // Hair Bow (Unknown)

This is just a commentary, not a piece written out of jealousy or desperation. I understand that there are many easy to pinpoint and fairly recognisable reasons for the rise and fall of my blog. I also understand that there are probably hundreds of other bloggers and writers who fall into the same boat (and if you are one, perhaps you’ll relate). Well, perhaps not the same; I did say I feel like I’m in a unique position after all.

For those of you who don’t know or perhaps need reminding, I started my blog just before I turned 12-years-old, an age of which I now look back on and realise really was as young as it seemed to others, and that’s coming from the girl who has always seen herself as more mature than I am (I’ve never feared or shied away from growing up. The idea excites me more than anything because there’s so much more potential to be lived out as you age).

At around 13, my blog somehow gained attraction. I usually try not to use terms like “somehow” because it almost implies it was for no good reason. I use it here, however, because, in comparison to my blog now in 2018, it baffles me to think I was deemed as an impressive creator (sorry, younger version of myself but you’ll be glad to know you haven’t settled for what you were writing back then).

It doesn’t bother me to say this and I am unashamed to admit it but honestly, in terms of numbers, audience interaction and what is normally deemed as “online success”, my blog peaked around that time.

One of my most frequent click-backs is from an article I was featured in, in The Telegraph Magazine. To this day, I still get people finding my blog through that piece discussing teen bloggers, even though the image which depicts me is of my 11-year-old-self wearing an admittedly, culturally appropriative headband.

Don’t get me wrong, I am proud of that feature (albeit the offensive accessory) and grateful for what followed it but that isn’t me now – unsurprisingly and thankfully, I’ve changed, learned and evolved as a human being and ultimately, as a blogger.

The content I’m creating now is the content I am the proudest of so far, yet the traction it receives and the audience it now lends itself to is vastly smaller. My numbers peaked at the point where I was really only learning and finding my feet but my blog itself is now peaking when I’d say it’s most in need of being seen. As much as I blog because I love it, I also blog for a bigger purpose, now.

As I said, there are many reasons for this. First and foremost, I was a teen blogger at a time when there weren’t that many who were visible. I was part of a small and niche group of young and spritely voices. I was labelled as a future “Tavi Gevinson” on multiple occasions (which is extremely flattering – Tavi has gone on to do wonderful things).

But now, it’s fairly common to see a blog link in a teen’s Twitter bio or for an opinionated thread of tweets to gain thousands and views, for it to turn out to have been written by an intelligent and forward thinking 14-year-old. A Tumblr post can gain thousands of notes compared to a website I’ve put blood, sweat and tears into for a good portion of my life so far.

The internet has grown and changed in a way nobody would have expected, leading blogging and YouTube to become aspirational career paths (whether that’s a good thing or not, is another conversation to be had). There are magazines dedicated to advising teenagers on how to get started online and that’s only really happened in the past three or four years.

Secondly, I’ve never had a huge audience in the first place. When I say my blog and my platform peaked a few years ago, I’m obviously not implying I used to be as well-known as Zoella.

My numbers are small and magazine features never gained me much more than experience and behind-the-scenes opportunities (more on that later – I value this a lot). It’s only recently that I’ve reached 2,000 followers on Instagram when some teenagers are reaching millions within a matter of a year or two, and maybe this is rightly so.

Lastly, and perhaps more obvious as of late – the topics I write about just don’t interest people in the same way other subjects do. As much as I’d rather it didn’t, the world of blogging (specifically within the beauty, fashion and lifestyle sectors) relies upon well, the consumerist culture and that doesn’t sit too well with somebody interested in the matters of sustainability.

There are many opportunities I’ve been given and reached out for that would easily have progressed me further in the direction of what this new industry would claim to be “success”. There are brands I could have worked with who would have been able to expose me to a wider audience.

There are clients and companies who would have benefited me financially if I’d started dismissing my moral and personal beliefs. I could have scrapped my rule of being organic across the board and added Google Ads to my sidebar years ago and I probably could have afforded to re-design my site by now (yes, this is a cry for help for any web designers looking to add to their portfolio!).

The truth is, a Primark haul, a make-up tutorial or tips on how to style up current trends, are always going to attract more people than a discussion on Cradle to Cradle design and how our clothes contribute to climate change.

If that’s how I described my content to a new reader, I think even I would be turned off by it. My outfit and style posts are a great example of this in themselves; they’re far easier to read, consume and digest meaning they’re often more popular than anything else.

That’s not to say discussing ethics and sustainability can’t equal success. Take a look at the likes of Eco-Cult; what Kestrel Jenkins has done with Conscious Chatter and what many other sustainably focused content creators are doing.  Even myself; I am a success story in my own right, it just might not look like that on the surface because I’m not attracting millions of views a year anymore (sadly).

2,000 followers on a platform don’t let you in on who is included within that 2,000, though. I’ve been very fortunate in being able to connect with people who I admire and who will be of more help and support to me and where I want all of this to lead than say, 200,000 unknown strangers. Although I’m not going to turn that down (*insert all my social media links here so you can follow me*), I believe this is all a lesson in the old adage of “quality over quantity”.

I mentioned that I would talk more about behind-the-scenes opportunities and I believe this is important to highlight, especially for those who also struggle with the numbers game. I try my very hardest not to be one of those people who vaguely posts about the exciting news they have but can’t share (I mostly keep quiet due to the fear of jinxing whatever good news it might relate to) but more often than not, I wouldn’t be able to do that anyway. Some of my success is almost invisible and completely unknown because it often ends up never coming to fruition.

Towards the end of last year I was given an opportunity that would have been a large milestone for me but it was taken away within a couple of email replies simply because it turned out that I had to be 18 to be involved (I’m impatiently waiting until I’m in the 18-24 age bracket so that never happens again!) and I’ve been offered many other experiences that have left me speechless but alas, we aren’t all flooded with enough money to travel and be a part of every single one.

A few thousand followers and unseen opportunities also don’t demonstrate the value of the effort and time that goes into everything I create. The fact that I haven’t reached a larger number of followers or the fact that my blog doesn’t generate me a stable income, could easily have knocked me back and made me question why I bother with any of it (this would be a great starting place for that aspirational career path conversation). I’d like to think I put in as much work as a full-time blogger does, without much in return.

A post I read recently by Megan from Wonderful You, discussed success similarly. She explained her own version of slower progression and growth and it interested me because, from my perspective, she is a very obvious success story. The grass is always greener.

I also have to factor in that I have spent a good majority of these past six years growing, whether that’s literally (my blog will soon see me into adulthood) or metaphorically. Most bloggers who started back in 2012 were already the age I am now, leaving them in their early or mid-twenties with whatever success they’ve achieved.

I’m only just turning 18 in May of this year and starting to feel fully content and confident in what I’m producing. If I wanted to compare my story to other “more successful ones”, it could take me another 6 years to reach that with what I’m currently doing.

I suppose I would never want to fit neatly into the box of an ordinary and successful “blogger” though because the assumptions that tie into that don’t align with me at all.

My Instagram isn’t a constant stream of outfit photos and selfies (okay, admittedly I’ve been posting more of them recently), my photography doesn’t look as if it’s been torn right out of a glossy magazine (this post excluded, thanks to the wonderful Olyesa) and I still have no real interest in properly entering the world of YouTube. I am not a “blogger” blogger, or an “influencer” or whatever other vague terms the industry and media want to use to characterize a humongous spectrum of people working, living and creating online.

I did say I blog for a bigger purpose now but this post wasn’t intended to have one. Perhaps you can take it as a letter I wrote to myself, to remind me that although I am not what most would see as a hugely successful or well-esteemed blogger, there is so much more to it than digits, followers and the amount of money it all generates me.

Six years has been a long, exciting and unexpected journey and out of all of it, the achievement I’m most proud of is just sticking with it.

Follow Olesya Gonta on Instagram & Behance

Speaking of… thank you to all my readers who have stuck with me since the early days and those of which who are new to all things TDP. Here’s to another (who knows?) six years