The Instagram Effect: Life Based On a True Story

I'll preface this post by saying I'm a huge Instagram fan. Of all the social networks, it's the one I'd miss the most if it were to disappear tomorrow. I suspect this love is rooted in a favorite childhood pastime: thumbing through old family albums. Many an hour was spent perusing the pages of family history, scrutinizing not only the photo subjects, but anything in the background, trying to absorb all the accidental life stories captured within. While Instagram lacks the tangible delight of heavy photo books and page flips, it has become the modern version of the family album of yore. What once required the foresight to capture photos, the patience to develop and a sizable chunk of time to lay everything out in a photo book, can now be accomplished with the literal click of a button.

But along with the good, comes a side of hostility. Critics berate Instagram (and its users) for the rise of the "Envy Effect," claiming the majority of photos shared on Instagram portray a perfect and unrealistic life. “When you’re waiting for your coffee to brew, the majority of your friends probably aren’t doing anything any more special. But it only takes one friend at the Eiffel Tower to make you feel like a loser.”

As one author says in his rebuttal to the post, "I wouldn’t be the first person to point out that if you’re jealous of your friend’s life as it looks on Instagram or Facebook, the problem is not social media — it’s you."

I tend to agree.

Nobody ever said Instagram was a non-fiction storytelling tool. If anything, it's a medium for telling the story of our lives based on a series of true events. It's art, not forensics.

I like experiencing the world through the eyes of those who find beauty in unexpected places. I like that people are taking the time to experience the magic of life on a micro-level. I like people who challenge themselves to find a softer world -- and share that with others. That doesn't take away from my life experience, it reminds me to keep my eyes, mind and heart open to everything around me.

Sunday night a friend shared a great post on Facebook: What I Instagrammed Vs. What Was Really Happening, Or My Entire Life is a Life. In the spirit of the true story, I'm taking a page from Olivia's playbook. Here are Instatruths of my own...

THE AUTUMNAL GLORY PHOTO

What it looks like... BEHOLD! Life in Ohio is a blissful state of autumnal glory – and it’s only early September. Must be going now. It’s time to don a thick scarf and a cozy cowl neck sweater for the hayride that takes us to pick apples and sing songs around a Pinterest-worthy bonfire.

The real story... Two minutes before I took this photo, my 2-year-old "nephin" chucked one of these pumpkins at the ground. Hard. As a result, we went home the proud, new owners of a bruised and battered pumpkin.

THE GALAVANTING AROUND THE GLOBE VACATION PHOTO

What it looks like... Clad in practical shoes, I hiked to the top of this mountain to be at one with nature and revel in the splendor of Mother Earth.

The real story... I was essentially tricked into climbing this hill by a much more outdoorsy, fit and nature-friendly friend. Number of asthma attacks experienced climbing hill: 1. Hits off asthma inhaler: 2. Number of complaints about climbing steep terrain only to arrive in front of a beautiful waterfall drenched in sweat on a 90-degree August day: countless.

THE HAPPIEST HOUR PHOTO

What it looks like... Just another Saturday night sipping on a fabulous drink at a fabulous bar living a fabulous life.

The real story... The bartenders at this place are so hipster I was afraid they would judge me if I asked if that was a pineapple top. So I just took a picture of it instead.

THE SELFIE

What it looks like... Just a quick photo to say hello!

The real story... This is the first time I’ve had my hair out of a messy bun in over a week. It only happened because I had a guest in town. If you run into me any place else under any other circumstances, neither I, nor my hair, will look anything like this.

THE PERFECT POOCH PHOTO

What it looks like... My dog is an adorable, quirky creature.

The real story... My dog is an adorable, quirky creature with a penchant for getting into trouble. This is his “I did something really terrible #SorryNotSorry” face. I see it all the time.

CHIME IN: Do you think the Instagram is a positive or a negative thing? 

A Brand Building Lesson Courtesy of HGTV

HGTV is my form of meditation. When I need a break from the world, I can always count on them to whisk me away for a couple hours of remodels, renovations and real estate purchases that leave me wondering what, exactly, a 23-year-old couple does that affords them the ability to buy a $700,000 vacation home in Belize. (I hear I’m not alone in this.) If there is one thing HGTV has taught me over the years, it’s the importance of a solid foundation. Let’s be honest. In a world of drawer pulls, lighting fixtures and “smart toilets,” foundations are blah at best. Unseen and unsexy, they’re sort of the girdle of home ownership. But it turns out they’re super important.

Here’s the thing: you can build a lovely home on a bad foundation. You might even be able to live there for years before it becomes evident something is wrong, but eventually you will have to confront reality. And when you do, it will be messy, costly and painful.

Yesterday I read an article about a brand I love. The headline was, unquestionably, one of the worst things I could ever imagine someone saying about a brand: “I Do Not Know On Person Who is Happy at Amazon.” The letter was penned by a current employee with hopes of casting a light on the reality behind the scenes at Amazon. (Suddenly those happy face boxes aren’t seeming to happy.) Sure, it’s possible it’s the handiwork of a disgruntled employee, but I don’t think so. These are the kinds of brutally honest things people send up as a flare when they have a clear vision of what could be, not when they’ve given up.

“Everyone has a time table for quitting. No one says, “I hope I stay here forever.”

“Man, there are smart people here. But they are also smart enough to know that they have been had. That is the thing with smart people, they have high expectations of their work place.”

“As incredible as this company is, it’s hard to imagine how much more powerful it could be if anyone here, more than the odd few, were happy.”

Your internal people (and culture) are the foundation of your brand. Sure, it’s tempting to fast forward to paint colors and flooring — the things that the outside world sees on a daily basis — rather than really investing in the basics. It’s fun to build a beautiful house, but if you want to build something successful and sustainable — focus on building a strong foundation. Start from within. 

An Open Letter from a "Fat Chick" to Mike Jeffries, CEO of Abercrombie + Fitch

I remember the moment as though it were yesterday (which is saying a lot, because it was nearly two decades ago...) Last week of 8th grade. One of the "popular girls" walked over to me in gym class and asked if she could write in my yearbook. When she handed my book back, I excitedly turned the cover, only to discover that she had written (in beautiful penmanship) the following:

Have a great summer. Stay thin.

Except the word "thin" had been crossed out with a single line. 

I have always struggled with my weight. Big-boned. Plus-size. Thick. Curvy. Voluptuous. Padded. Pick your adjective. Over the years I learned to deal with it in different ways. I learned to ignore it. Compensate for it. Deny it. Dress it up. Cover it over. Like everyone who struggles with something physical, I wear my battle on the outside for the world to see. There's no running from it, because there is no hiding it.

According to Elite Daily, Mike Jeffries, CEO of Abercombie + Fitch, has allegedly commented on everything from why he hates fat chicks to why he doesn't want "not-so-cool" kids shopping in his stores.

While I was initially outraged by the story, by the time I reached the end of the article, I felt more of a sense of overwhelming pity for the Abercrombie CEO than anything. A man blessed with unimaginable success proudly spouting off soundbites reminiscent of a cruel little girl I knew in eight grade? It would seem Mike Jeffries is a deeply unhappy man.

Mean-spiritedness aside, Mr. Jeffries' comments raise a flag about a bigger, more troubling cultural issue. Pretend, for one moment, that instead of fat chicks, unattractive people or "not-so-cool" kids Mr. Jeffries had said "African Americans" or "homosexuals" or "single moms." As a society, we would rise up and crucify any brand that flaunted that kind of exclusionary business plan.

I'm not slamming Abercrombie, proposing that they start carrying larger sizes or suggesting they welcome everyone into their stores. What I am questioning is why, in a country where two out of every three adults are considered overweight, is it acceptable for anyone, let alone the CEO of a major company, to proudly and publicly sling what could be considered by some to teeter on hate speech?

With each brand that joins arms with companies like Dove, TOMS and Anytime Fitness, opting to lead with their values in order to drive new, important conversations, a positive change is happening. Who do you think will thrive? I'm willing to bet at least two out of three Americans can answer that question...and they'll do so with their dollars.

Now on to the letter.

AN OPEN LETTER TO MR. MIKE JEFFRIES, CEO ABERCROMBIE + FITCH

Dear Mr. Jeffries,

Hi there. It's me, Amy. We've never met, but since it seems we won't be sitting at the same lunch table (or crossing paths in your stores) anytime soon, I thought it was important that you get to know me if you're going to hate me. I'm one of the two out of three Americans you can't stand and don't want in your stores. I'm your neighbor. Your doctor. The young woman working behind the hotel check-in desk. I'm your child's third grade teacher. Your sister's best friend. I'm the veterinarian who saved your dog's life...twice. And the lady sitting next to you on the flight to Los Angeles. I'm the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. I'm the housewife with one heck of an expendable income. I'm the 13-year-old teetering on the verge of an eating disorder. And the 22-year-old battling depression and low self-esteem. I'm the employee working in your office, living in fear that two pounds are the difference between my paycheck and the unemployment line. I'm the American Woman...and I've got something to say to you.

Mike (can I call you Mike?), I'm not only a fat chick, I'm also a "not-so-cool" kid. Always have been, always will be. I've had 31.5 years to come to terms with that. Along the way I have been bullied, tortured, teased and harassed. Somehow I came out the other end better for it. In case you haven't noticed, those not-so-cool kids are the ones who are passing people like you by--and doing some pretty amazing things. (You can read about a couple of them here and here and here.) Funny thing about wearing your struggle on the outside: it makes you stronger. It teaches you how to adapt. It forces you to dig deep and do more. And while people like you are sitting at the cool kids table intent on holding others down, the ragtag team of not-so-cool kids is busy pulling others up...and we've become an unstoppable force driving the world forward.

You got me, Mike! I don't wear a size 4. You should probably also know that my middle fingers curve ever-so-slightly outward and I have a Morton's toe. I'm terrible at long division and I'm not that great at parallel parking. But I'm a good person. I have an awesome job, great friends and a family that I wouldn't trade for the world. I have mentors with brains as big as their giant hearts, and a rescue dog who is always happy to see me at the end of the day. Like everyone (size 4 or size 24), I have wants and hopes and dreams. I dream of writing a children's book and inheriting a large sum of money so I can open a rescue retirement home for all the old shelter dogs that nobody wants. I'd like to pay for the person behind me at the toll booth sometime, and it'd be nice to get around to taking the "Great American Road Trip" one day. Overall I'm a pretty happy person. I'm a loyal friend and I strive to make the world better whenever and however I can. I love my community and I'm proud to call Columbus home. Although Abercrombie is headquartered here, you don't represent the voice or the spirit of the place I know and love. When people think of this city, it is my hope they'll choose to forget your name and instead think of people like Jeni Britton Bauer and Christian Long and Liz Lessner; doers and thinkers giving Columbus (and humankind) a good name.

As a marketer, I understand where you're coming from on some level, Mike. I really do. When you say "a lot of people don't belong in our clothes--they can't belong," I get it. For consumers, every purchase is a declaration. With each dollar a consumer spends, they are saying, "I am part of this brand and this brand is a part of me. I believe what this brand believes. I support what this brand supports." As I sit here wrapping up this letter, I am proud to say that I may be a not-so-cool kid and the extra pounds I carry may not be a thing of beauty, but I am nothing like you or your brand--and that, Mr. Jeffries, is a beautiful thing.

Sincerely, Amy Taylor