These boots were made for stalking
Screen time stresses me out.
As I write this, I’m surrounded by five screens.
The Real Housewives of Orange County on my T.V.
Writing this blog on my laptop
iPhone to my left
iPad (for which I will browse eBay, The Real Real, and Pinterest on one I’m done here) to my right
Kindle, for which I will try to finish the third ACOTAR book on before bed, on the coffee table
I also have a half-eaten bag of BonBon and little box of Sugarfina Sugar Lips (A DELICACY) if we’re being completely honest.
I’m in a never-ending battle against my screen time. I have vivid flashbacks of my pediatrician telling me at my last check up with her that I should only be having around 3-4 hours of screen time a day. This seems nearly impossible, and she told me this probably within the last 5 years, so it’s not like this was advice before the iPhone and TikTok and Max T.V. shows or anything.
Yesterday, one of my favorite Substack’s Feed Me discussed screen time and the loneliness pandemic in people 18-24. Right now, I’m averaging 5 hours and 25 minutes per day. This may seem like a real flex to some of you, and disgusting to others. The sole occasion I felt great about this was when I saw Brett’s Bites of Pass That Puss fame post that her screen time was nearly 11 hours. According to Apple, this is down 11% per my usual, which is because I’ve been making a grave effort to stay off of my phone as much as possible. I’ve since graduated to a “primary” doctor who has yet to mention anything about screen time, so maybe I’m overthinking this.
I hate to sound redundant as this is a theme I’ve discussed thoroughly as of late, but my phone often feels like a hot potato. I feel anxious and overwhelmed by it most times, and have expressed to my friends my longing for a flip phone. I listened to Judd Apatow, co-creator of the most important piece of work in my lifetime, GIRLS, discuss on a podcast how he has bought multiple flip phones to also combat this anxiety, but has never taken any of them out of their box. Another meaningful lesson he’s unintentionally taught me.
For someone so afraid of their phone, I spend an awful lot amount of time on it. Often, as I’ve discussed at nauseam, stalking people that I don’t know on Instagram and watching TikTok for an hour straight instead of an actual T.V. show or something useful. Multiple times a week I choose to ignore the 2 hour time limit I have set on Instagram to continue on my threads from one account to the next and to the next, suddenly coming to when my search for a restaurant in Fort Green ended on a microinfluencer from Copenhagen.
I feel genuinely accomplished when I get the weekly screen time report notification and it says that my screen time is down, and I get disappointed in myself when it’s been a particularly bad week. When I get a dull ache behind my eyes for being on my phone for too long or my hands and neck cramp. I also embarrass myself by putting my phone down, just to pick it back up three seconds later, or open Instagram, close Instagram, and open it again. Just mortifying.
As someone who’s been on Instagram for 10 years, and has spent virtually her entire life on the internet, it’s a tough habit to break. I just took a break writing this to scroll for approximately 10 minutes where I saw nothing of note. It’s muscle memory at this point.
Instagram is amazing because it connects people and creates communities, keeps you up to date, provides inspiration and allows discovery of new things or ideas, and it’s entirely what you make of it. I live in a cozy little corner of the world that is everything I describe every week on here, with an entirely different perception of Instagram than the person sitting next to me on the subway. It’s simultaneously horrible for the reasons we’re all already aware of. I think developing a healthier relationship with social media as a whole is my key to finding peace with my phone, but alas, a long journey ahead.
Recently my scrolling almost made me purchase a Japanese-edition of The Royal Tenenbaums promotional mini booklet from IDEA that was over $100. IDEA is one of those Instagram accounts that makes me tired because of how much I love it and how much they sell that I want to purchase. I thought of texting “how much would you spend on a book you really wanted” to some of my book collector friends, but the sheer thought of that made me face the harsh reality of what I was doing. I had also done a simple Google search after IDEA was unable to verify my credit card through divine intervention, and saw it available for much cheaper on eBay.
In some very exciting book news, I bought myself the ACOTAR box set. I haven’t taken it out of the plastic, nor do I have plans to. I just finished the third book (another 5-stars on Goodreads), and I bought the Kindle version of the fourth to leave the box in pristine condition. Heirlooms for my future heirs and heiresses.
The $100 that I saved on The Royal Tenenbaums impulse purchase will now be allocated to finalizing my fall shoe purchase, boots and/or new sneakers. Neither of which I have landed on.
To give you all a monthly glimpse into my TRR wishlist (no, I still haven’t bought a new work bag either), it currently consists of moto boots from Kate Spade, Jimmy Choo, Frye, and beyond. I’ve tried my hand at bidding for old Frye riding boots on eBay, but something about slipping my toes into such tight confinements from an unknown seller isn’t sitting right with me. Perhaps I just don’t have enough grit.
I was inspired to purchase a moto boot from Pinterest and the streets, but I’m still not convinced they’re for me. The only boots I own are knee-high black square toe leather ones from Alohas 3 or 4 years back, Ganni all-weather slip-on chelsea boots (not exactly these) I got last year, and Isabel Marant thigh high’s I slugged home from their sample sale last year (at sample sale price, ignore the sticker shock), and break into a full body sweat getting into. I am, of course, also a proud owner of some mini UGGs, but they’ve seen finer days.
Boots are so hard for me. Anyone else? They’re so personal, no two pairs the same on one person. Although the scars and calluses on my feet may say otherwise, I truly do value comfort, which can also be difficult. The feeling of your foot rubbing against the inside heel of a boot after a long day, tearing open a fresh blister on the trudge home is made of nightmares. If anyone has a boot recommendation slightly reminiscent of the above, you know where to find me.
Maybe I can put my doomscrolling to good use and finally find the perfect pair. I’m the Goldilocks of pre-loved designer items.
literally same