The Real Cost of Instagram
(By Someone Who Knows) There’s no denying that Instagram is deemed a rich girl’s game, but Look’s Maxine has learned the hard way that trying to keep up can leave you in a bit of a pickle…
Being a girl who likes to shop comes with its own unique set of stereotypes. While I have, admittedly, been known to squeal at the sight of excellent shoes, I’ve never pushed a fellow shopper out of the way to snag a bargain or tried in vain to pay for a designer dress by splitting the cost across seven credit cards – only to have them declined.
Over the years, though, the thrill of spending has led me to make some questionable decisions. Although my shopping habits would suggest otherwise, I am by no means rich. Dedicating my life to fashion, I’ve consequently chosen a career that’ll always mean I’m significantly less well off than my friends (probably more so than they realise). The reason for this? Instagram.
I’ve gone to great lengths to make my Instagram look aspirational. To make it look more premium than my bank balance allows. And to do so has required compromise. I have beans on toast on average three times a week. I’ve delved into my ISA more times than I can count – losing interest, yes, but gaining clothes. I’ve forgone family holidays to afford myself new bags. It’s tragic.
And yes, while my job has undisputed perks in the form of discounts, press trips and some very generous gifts, I still pay for 95 per cent of the pieces I strategically post on social media.
Don’t get out the violins, though – I’m far from hard done by. The point I’m trying to make, however, is that it’s all a charade – and some people are better at playing the game than others. Instead of trying to keep up with endless #ootd posts, I’m now attempting to invest in pieces that not only have greater longevity but also, naturally, look great on my feed and aren’t one-post ponies.
My name is Maxine and I am an Instagram addict. Only now, I’m in remission.