Dear Martha: You’re Right About Bloggers.

Martha Stewart Bashes Bloggers

Martha Stewart, who was quite the charismatic and humorous speaker at BlogHer 2012, where she said that she was honored to share her birthday with us, had some choice words to say about bloggers this week.

Really, you absolutely must watch the video to fully grasp the fantastic derision in her words. But let’s review.

Stephanie Ruhle: “Is there an argument to be made that maybe social media is in poor taste?”

Martha Stewart, interrupting excitedly: “Oh – oh I DO have a minor gripe about that too. Because WHO are these bloggers? They’re not trained editors at Vogue magazine! I mean there are bloggers writing recipes that aren’t tested that aren’t necessarily very good, or are copies of everything that really good editors have created and done. So, bloggers create a kind of um, a, um, popularity but, they are NOT the experts! And we have to understand that.”

So Martha, I would like to say that you are correct.

At least about one thing.

We are NOT the trained editors at Vogue Magazine.

We are better.

And here are ten ways we treat our readers better than Vogue Magazine does theirs, or you yours for that matter.

1. Instead of finding child models for our photos, we use our own kids. And sometimes, those kids are angrier and/or dirtier than our reader’s kids, giving them hope that perhaps they’re not the worst Mom out there.

Martha Stewart Bloggers Kids

 

2. Sure, we tell them about our crafting projects gone right at times, but they can get that kind of overdone perfection in any doctor’s-waiting-room-copy of an old Martha Stewart Magazine. So we’re also willing to show our projects gone very, very wrong.

Martha Stewart Bloggers Crafts

3. Half our content isn’t ads. Or at least it shouldn’t be.

4. We assure them that they are not weird or slowly going insane. Did you know that in fact everyone’s breast pump talks to them? It does. And I bet neither Vogue nor Martha ever told them that.

5. We show them what we really let our kids eat – and that they lived through it.

Martha Stewart Bloggers Food

6. Speaking of food, anyone can put together a perfectly coifed tablescape. But will anyone show what a typical toddler tablescape looks like? I’ve never seen this in Martha Stewart Living, but I bet they’ve seen it in their home.

IMG_5028

7. We all know that if you have a test kitchen and 20 professional chefs, you too can make gorgeous, identical, intricately decorated, picture-perfect anything. That’s why you need bloggers – to show you what they’ll probably look like if you try to make them.

IMG_2061 (2)

8. If we do give DIY instructions and our readers can’t figure out how the heck to make that chevron pattern line up, we actually answer their questions. Good luck getting tech support from Vogue or Martha.

9. Vogue shows you how to dress using size negative 4 models. If we give you advice on how to dress, we use actual female human beings.

10. We properly warn of the nasty underside of attempting crafts with children. I am positive that if Martha even allows children in her magazines, they get scrubbed between shots.

IMG_2769

 

So Vogue can keep their trained editors and we will keep our bloggers. And Martha might should reconsider using her most repulsed tones and grand sweeping generalizations about an entire people group. If for no other reason, so that her PR team can create a bit more genuine retraction.

 

Martha Stewart Bloggers Tweets


Update: Martha had another non-apology attempt to save face with this tweet:

Martha Stewart Blogger Tweet

So let’s do a quick recap of Martha’s words:

a. Bloggers are not the experts,
b. Bloggers are stealing the expert’s ideas,
c. Bloggers inspire Martha the most.

Therefore, we can clearly deduce that Martha is stealing our ideas.

Baby Got Pad.

There is really nothing I adore more than watch people awkwardly record important moments with iPads. Especially in large crowds of people where their ‘pad completely blocks the view of the people around them and they’re likely to give their neighbor a black eye if they get too excited.

iPad Photography in public spacesOr two.

And, much akin to umbrellas in football stadiums, I suspect that one day soon, there will be “iPads Prohibited” signs at the entrance of every children’s performance and sports game.

iPad PhotographyAt least hold her right-side-up.

I can also say that I have gotten more than a few stranger’s blue jean butt selfies in my inbox with a giant iPad case nearly blocking the view that I was supposed to be analyzing.

So when Chris got me an iPad this spring, this was the first photo I took:

iPad Selfie“Chris bought me a new camera!”

Upon tweeting about my iPad photography opinions a few months ago, my husband spontaneously rewrote the first few lines of “Baby Got Back” and tweeted it to me. And they were brilliant.

And for my birthday, he finished it.

A girl couldn’t ask for a better present, although I’m sure there are more waiting for me. [Right, honey?]

So while I bask in my 32nd birthday and anxiously await my other gifts, please enjoy his artistic labor of love.

Baby Got Pad.

OMG, Becky, look at her camera.
It is so big.
She looks like one of those bloggers.
But, y’know, who understands those bloggers?
I mean, her camera, is just so big.
I can’t believe its just so rectangular.
Its like, out there, I mean – gross. Look!
She’s just so weird.

[Bass Line]

I like big cameras and I can not lie
You other photogs can’t deny
That when a girl walks up with an iPad case
And unfolds it in your face
You SMH, wanna throw up tough
Cause you notice that case was stuffed.
Deep in the scene she’s crafting
I’m hooked and I can’t stop laughing
Oh baby, I wanna get witch’a
And take your picture.
My homegirls just can’t phase me
But that case you got makes me so crazy
Toes, kids, or sunbeams
You say you wanna fill up your stream?
Well see me, smell me,
Cause this ain’t that average selfie.
I’ve seen that screen
Her favorite filter’s green
She must be hiding from you
Its like she’s playing peekaboo.
I’m tired of dumb webzines
Sayin’ iPhones are the thing
Take the average blogger and scan her space
She gotta pack much case.

So ladies (Yeah) ladies (Yeah)
Has your girlfriend got the Pad?
Tell her to take it (take it) take it (take it)
Take that cheesy pic!
Baby got Pad.

How Not to be a Doctor.

Dear New Doctor,

Hi! I’m Rachel. You should know that, but since you didn’t read my chart, I guess you don’t.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I’ve been seeing a wonderful doctor all summer, but he wasn’t in the correct specialty to continue treating me. So, he referred me to you – for your expertise and advice.

Even with his office making the appointment for me, I had to wait a month to see you. A month spent trudging through my symptoms while wearing the hope that you would be able to help me manage them more effectively. So I was unusually anticipatory when I arrived at your office on Wednesday.

As I got out of my car, I was as hopeful as the sky seemed, and my Instagram caption to go with it:

Birmingham Alabama Skyline
Fog burning off, clouds rolling in, blue skies in between. Birmingham.

As she took me back to my room to await your regal arrival, your nurse assured me, “You’ll love New Doctor – he’s so smart.”

And I’m sure you are – because they don’t have remedial medical school. I hope.

However.

It did not seem smart when you came into the room, listened to my heart for ten seconds, asked me about my symptoms and then followed up with, “And you don’t have any other symptoms?” (because apparently the severity of my long list of symptoms did not deign me with the right to be in your presence.)

It also did not seem smart when you promptly diagnosed me with a syndrome that explains the 1% of my symptoms – coincidentally the same 1% that can be objectively seen on a test.

(Although I do adore myself some objectivity as well.)

It seemed even less smart to then tell me that there really wasn’t anything that could be done about that 1%, except try this drug that might help or might do nothing or might make me worse. Nor was it comforting when you reiterated that all of the lifestyle changes I’ve made to help decrease my issues were completely unrelated to the problem and would not do any good whatsoever, nor would any other changes.

“Drinking more water, eating more salt, lowering caffeine – none of this has anything to do with what is wrong with you. It’s a reflex problem, and there’s nothing that can be done about it. You will just have to learn to have to live with it.”

But really – who doesn’t want a doctor to tell you that you’re full of crap for drinking more water? I do. I hate the stuff. So I’ll give you ten points for that.

Let’s move on. I’m sure that you get all kinds of wacko hypochondriacs in your Kingdom, but when I inquired as to the rest of my very real symptoms, your reply of “Well, we all have vague symptoms that can’t be explained…” was not refreshing. Nor was it when you used that “you’ll just have to live with it” line again.

But I was positive that you scored the highest marks in your Condescension 101 class when you made sure to repeat very pointedly several times how many different tests I’ve had that didn’t show anything wrong with me (leaving me to remind you of the one test that did, but hey – that’s only one test. Why should we listen to it?), and that there was clearly no mechanical issues with my heart, so – again, the live with it load.

All of that was great and wonderful and I had a delightful time venting to my friends and husband via text as I left your office. How I had waited a month for that ten minute appointment with you, despite your nurse assuring me that our visit would be at least 40 minutes. And how you had wanted so very much to make sure that I could read between the huge gaping lines that you thought I was fabricating my entire life.

When I got to my car, I was as upset as the sky seemed, and the caption to go with it:

Birmingham Alabama Storms
Gone are the blue skies. I know how you feel, Birmingham.

But you know what the really fantastic part was?

Three hours later, when your secretary called me back.

“Hi. Is this Rachel? Oh good. New Doctor reviewed your records after you left, and he realized that you did not need to take the medication he prescribed you, but instead, he has another one he wants me to call in for you. You haven’t already picked up that prescription, have you?”

“Um, yes, I have.”

“Oh I’m so sorry – well don’t take it!”

“Why exactly does he want to change my prescription?”

“Well, he said he’d reviewed your records and realized that something else would be a better approach.”

“And what is this other medicine? Is it just a different beta blocker?”

“Um, let me look it up. No…it actually looks like it’s…it’s a….steroid??”

“I have very bad reactions to steroids. I’d like to understand a little more about why he decided to change my medication that much before I take anything.”

“Okay. I’ll let him know about your reactions and find out why he wanted the change.”

And then ten minutes later, when she called back.

“Hi, Rachel? I talked to New Doctor about your steroid issues, and he said for you to just take the original medication that he prescribed you.”

“The beta blocker?”

“Yes.”

“But…why did he want to change my medication so drastically in the first place?”

“Well, I asked him again and he just said that it was because he reviewed your records and thought it best.”

“Awesome.”

Actually, those two conversations really did make me feel much better. Because they sealed in my mind what I had hoped before – that you’re the one that’s suspect, not me.

So here’s what I prescribe for you:

1. Buy a chalkboard.

2. Hang it in the waiting room.

3. Write “I will read my patient’s charts before or while they are in my care” 100 times.

(You’re gonna be shocked at what useful information can be found within!)

4. Erase your chalkboard.

5. Write “I will assume my new patients aren’t crazy until they prove otherwise” 200 times.

(Non-crazy people are out there, and if they don’t hear how dreadful you are first, they might visit you!)

6. Erase your chalkboard.

7. Write “My patients might even be intelligent. They have a right to a medication explanation” 300 times.

(I know, this is getting way out there, but WE CAN UNDERSTAND YOUR WORDS. USE THEM.)

If that doesn’t help, then your symptoms are probably too vague to treat. Learn to live with them.

Sincerely,

Your former patient.