Small Blog > Big Tech
As of January 19th, I am social-media-free, and freeing it certainly is! I've been a part of the social media world for 20 years, since the innocent days of MySpace, where we all learned to read snippets of HTML, just to fill our profiles with glittery nonsense images and awesome refrigerators with movable letter magnets--the coolest message board ever! It was a place where our chosen music started playing automatically when anyone viewed our profile, where we thought long and hard about the order in which our Top 8 Friends were displayed (BFFs only in that number one spot), and where we compiled information for others to read about who we thought we were at the time. I wish I had a screenshot of any of the ever-changing versions of my old profile. It was sparkly, loud, invasive (by choice), sometimes emo (eye-roll), and a generally pointless time-filler, but damn, it was pointless time-filler fun! And it was peak internet, it all went downhill after that, in my opinion. There were a few sparks here and there in the years that followed, but now that I'm able to look back over the past two decades, I definitely think MySpace was where we should have stopped innovating. And it could probably be argued that we shouldn't have innovated that far, either.
Did "social" media make us more social? I used Facebook (in the beginning) within my college network, before the rest of the world was allowed an account. It was a fun way to stay in touch with friends, upload tons of pictures from low-quality digital cameras, and eventually, a place to "poke" each other. But, at some point, it was overrun with family members and their respective opinions, shared news articles you probably didn't want to see, and ads you most certainly didn't want to see. Suddenly, "throwing a sheep" at a friend turned into a feed full of irrelevant advertisements, videos that started playing automatically, and political opinions from people you didn't like but kept on your friends list anyway. All-in-all, it did not make me more social. It made me want to be anti-social, if I'm being honest.
And then, Instagram entered the chat.
I joined in 2011, and immediately fell in love with its retro, snapshot-forward interface. I could take a grainy picture of a bowl of cereal, slap a filter on it to ensure it looked worse than the original, and bam! A new pointless time-filler, but now on my phone rather than a giant desktop computer. It was a new way to document life via a digital scrapbook where you could meet like-minded people through hashtags. People you'd probably never see or hear in the real world, but that mere fact somehow made it more enticing than a Facebook account that felt like an awkward family reunion. And I did meet many like-minded people in the beginning. People who loved Halloween and '80s slasher movies as much as I did. People who were creative and quirky. People who quilted and cross stitched and made things for the sake of making things. Humans who wanted to connect with other humans about the things that made us all, well, human. And in that little sliver of time, there was a spark! A shining, uphill moment amidst the descent that followed the death of MySpace.
And then, Facebook bought Instagram.
That itty bitty, billion-dollar purchase turned that uphill moment into a downward spiral that I haven't gotten used to since their check cleared. It was little things in the beginning, like ditching chronological order in your feed--remember when that was the standard? When you actually saw what you wanted to see? Good times. Then an occasional ad here or there. Still minor. Mostly acceptable and easy to overlook. Fast forward over a decade to present day, and my IG was full of ads I could not escape whether I was scrolling the main feed, swiping through Stories, or browsing the explore page. They were everywhere! Large companies, influencers, and everyday people alike were trying to sell me things left and right, so I couldn't even escape the ads from the people I chose to follow. They just so "happened" to have a link ready for every single item they were wearing, or for every item that could be seen in the background of their Stories. Locked and loaded. Waiting for that DM to come through that said, "LINK, PLEASE!"
I started to feel like a piece of meat. Like I was being used to line the pockets of everyone working at Instagram, as well as the everyday people running accounts that I'd followed years prior. The people who started out small seemed to care in the beginning, actually responded to comments and messages, but then grew a large following, landed partnerships with brands, shared affiliate link after affiliate link, and posted reel after reel of sponsored content. I was a set of eyes that could be bought. Nothing more. Genuine questions or comments I had went unanswered in favor of the "LINK, PLEASE!" messages. My questions didn't make them money; therefore, they were largely ignored. How is that "social" media? To ignore the people trying to socialize with you in favor of the ones you can profit from? After 14 years on that platform, watching it get worse as time passed, I had enough.
It was like I'd been asleep for a decade, and suddenly, I woke up, looked around, and realized that my personal goals weren't at a place I'd like them to be. This app had been keeping me from those goals by wasting my time. A convenient distraction holding me back from doing the things I wanted to do more of: create. And yes, I fully realize that I could have just not picked up my phone and tapped that icon. No one forced my eyes open "A Clockwork Orange" style and made me look at home design accounts, Halloween decor, or sewing tutorials. I did that on my own. But it's hard not to doom-scroll when you've got a minute to spare. And it's designed to be that way. It's designed to pull you in and keep you scrolling beyond that spare moment. The "algorithm" wants you to engage, so it knows what you like best. Then it can feed you more accurate ads and eventually, sell you things.
All of that got me thinking about 20+ years prior, when I didn't have a cell phone. When the internet was something you did, a place you visited. "Getting on the internet" meant connecting via the landline, dialing up right there in the living room at the family desktop computer, likely in full view of everyone else in the room. Logging into MSN Messenger, downloading some potentially sketchy files on LimeWire, playing a round of Spider Solitaire, and chatting with friends while listening to music on Windows Media Player. And then you'd "get off the internet" and go do something else. You left the internet in the living room with your dad who was smoking cigarettes on the couch.
For a large part of 2024, and most certainly the first few weeks of 2025, I wanted to leave the internet in another room. I didn't want to carry it around in my pocket to the degree that I had been doing since I got my first iPhone, 14 years prior. So, I purchased a "dumb phone," deactivated my Instagram accounts, and deleted the Instagram app. My iPhone is now a glorified alarm clock and music player. Part-time calculator. Occasional flashlight. I'll still use it to take photos and keep up with my shop when I'm away from my laptop, but it's nearly pointless when not connected to WiFi. It can't connect to maps and give me directions while I'm out and about, social media has been removed, and my "screen time" checker is going to think I died. Going back to T9/Predictive texting takes some getting used to, and it certainly isn't any faster, but I actually like it better. I can't see when anyone else is typing. I can't see "read" or "delivered" receipts on sent messages. I just slowly type on actual squishy buttons, hit send, then hear the satisfying sound of the flip-phone closing shut. And once it's closed, it feels like the equivalent of leaving the internet in another room.
So, all of this to say, my views on social media, smart phones, and advancements in tech have changed a lot over the past few years. The world I want to live in exists in the mid-to-late '90s. I can't go back, but I can certainly remove myself from social media, choose to blog about things worth mentioning, and generally get my head out of a smart phone and back into the real world. Sweet October is obviously a place to shop, but I'm a person who hates when ads are shoved down my throat, and I don't want to do that to anyone else, either. I'm also a person who needs to create to be happy, and that means I need to sell the things I make, or risk suffocating in a sea of colorful bags and Halloween quilts. While it would be a pretty grave, I'd rather it not come to that. If you visit my website for the sole purpose of reading my blog, that's awesome! If I only ever have one person reading, it's worth it. And if you visit my website because you want to purchase the things I make, also awesome! But I only want you here because you want to be here. For whatever reason that is, I'm glad you are. <3
I will continue to create bags and accessories that speak to each half of my brain: all things Halloween/spooky, AND all things vibrant/colorful/cute. As long as you want them, I'll continue making them. And if you stop wanting them, I just may end up being swallowed by Halloween accessories, because I won't stop creating. As for the blog, I plan to write about sewing, what I'm currently making, etc., but I will also write about my life and things outside of the sewing world, just as I did on Instagram. This is an online shop, yes, but I also want it to be a place of inspiration, for you and for me! My own digital scrapbook slash journal that I'm okay with complete strangers reading. I just never want you to feel pressured to purchase anything. That's the tech world I don't like, the one I chose to leave. Not wanting to spam you with ads probably makes me a terrible business person, but I'm not a business person. I make things because I can't NOT make things. So, as long as I am able to sew and write, I will. And my hope is that, by removing 17-20 hours per week of social media doom-scrolling, I'll be able to give sewing and writing the time it deserves. (Also, take a peek at your screen time settings for your weekly social media usage, you'll probably be surprised at just how much time you let it take from you.) I know I was, and I'm excited to get it back!
I also feel like it needs to be said, that I'm in no way disparaging anyone who still uses and enjoys social media. This is just how I feel about my own usage, and for my own time going forward. I deactivated my Facebook account years ago, and I was never on TikTok. Instagram was my only doom-scroll app, and I gave it way too much of my downtime. And while I was sad to say goodbye to actual good humans on that platform, as well as creative people who shared inspiring projects, it was ultimately not good for my mental well-being overall. The negatives simply outweighed the positives.
And that's why I'm here now, in a little corner of the internet controlled by me, not a giant social media company. If you want to stay informed about new blog posts, sales I'm having, or new products I'm making, feel free to sign up for emails, but know that I'm never going to spam you. If you see a new message in your inbox from Sweet October, I want it to make you happy. I don't want you to feel as though you need to unsubscribe to get me off your back. I would really like Sweet October to feel like your favorite '90s magazine: articles worth reading, images worth seeing, and cool things to buy if you feel so inclined. However, no beauty advice, no cigarette ads. And you can't cut it up to make a collage, but hopefully you'll feel like it's worth subscribing.
(Where I *don't* post from.)
So if you need me, I'll be over here listening to Counting Crows CDs while repurposing '90s Goosebumps sheets into rad accessories. I hope you'll say hello and let me know you're here! I would love a stylistically-folded-up note, handwritten on ruled paper torn from your Trapper Keeper, but the comment section will suffice.