Letter From The Editor

Reflections on the Past Six Months

I started Dilettante Magazine with the intention of finally dedicating myself to something.

 A Dilettante is “a person who cultivates an area of interest, such as the arts, without real commitment or knowledge”. 

I gave this name to the magazine in reaction to being called a dilettante by someone I went to college with. Which, in fairness, is exactly what I was. For years, I’d been a serial hobbyist: picking up crafts, focusing on them intently for a month or two and then dropping them– never to be seen again. 

I felt bad about this habit. I felt unfulfilled and aimless. I wasn’t proud of many of the things I was making and that, in turn, made me feel like a bad artist. It’s cliché, but it’s true: the only way to get better at something is to practice. You need to do it over and over again, learning and growing along the way. But I simply didn’t have the discipline to force myself to work when I didn’t feel “inspired” or “compelled to create”. Which is horseshit. If you only make things when you feel “inspired” you’re never going to make anything worthwhile.

I had to get real with myself. I needed a way to develop the discipline needed to be good. So, I took stock of what I was good at: writing, and decided to commit myself to it. Then, I added in the Magazine component. Mostly because I was worried about getting bored and abandoning the whole ordeal like I did with everything else. 

I felt like the variety of a magazine would be freeing. I could do whatever I wanted, publish any kind of story or creative project I dreamt up– all in service of a greater goal. Eventually, this developed and evolved and narrowed into what I’m doing today– and that’s how Dilettante Magazine was born. 

Today marks 6 months of me trying seriously to become a writer. It’s been rewarding, it’s been fun– but it’s mostly been challenging. Over the course of these past six months, I’ve published a collaborative physical issue of the magazine, numerous essays, a cookbook, a weird podcast, some badly edited Youtube videos, hosted a writing workshop, published a couple essays and poems in Literary Magazines, done a handful of freelance writing pieces and now, I have my own Vintage Fashion column in Byline. 

I feel very proud of myself. I did what I set out to do. I fostered a sense of discipline that’s carried over into other aspects of my life. I’m much more put-together and organized as a result of this endeavor. But, I won’t lie– It’s a major struggle to create– especially when some of the things you’re creating are bad. I’ve had to hold on tightly to this idea that things have to be bad before they get good. I know logically that no one pops out of the womb knowing how to make the perfect Youtube video, but that doesn’t change the fact that it sucks to know exactly what a good thing looks like and not have the skills you need to make it.

All that to say: I can’t edit worth shit. I’m just very bad at computers. (Not everyone’s good at everything! There’s more than one kind of thing!) So, It’s often been disappointing– to slave over something for days and weeks, just to ultimately hate and be embarrassed by the end product. 

But there is a Silver Lining! My lack of talent in certain arenas does leave open the opportunity for partnership– and quite frankly, the most rewarding part of dedicating myself to this journey has been connecting with other creative types. I had this impression that the creative world was closed off, exclusive and intimidatingly impenetrable– and while that has sometimes been true, it’s mostly not! Most people are open and friendly and have a strong desire to connect. 

I have grown a lot through my collaborations with others.-- and truthfully, I want to grow more. I am excited by the opportunities presented to me. However, I am mindful of the necessity to deftly navigate this landscape.

One of the biggest aspects I’ve struggled with while jump-starting my career has been the extent to which I need to market my own image. Social Media rules everything these days. You can’t even dream of getting a book deal unless you have X amount of followers on Instagram and X amount of followers on TikTok and X amount of subscribers on Substack and Youtube and Spotify and whatever other app blows up next. 

It’s a necessary evil. You need to play the influencer game if you want even a shot at working on a big creative project– and I feel deeply uncomfortable about that. It’s vulnerable to share yourself online! Not just emotionally (because writing is a very personal and soul-bearing endeavor) but also physically. 

Virtually everyone in the world has internet access. Not all of them are the dream demographic of sweet and supportive fans– some people are genuinely disturbed. You have to be conscious that they are seeing your work too.

I watched a documentary a while ago called I Think We’re Alone Now. It was made in 2008 and follows two fans of the 1980s pop singer Tiffany. It’s a compelling documentary– but a tough watch. The two subjects of the doc are, for lack of a better word, enraptured by Tiffany (a singer who, at that point, was already a fading star). Photos plastered all over the walls, memorabilia filling every corner of the room, she is the dominating topic of every conversation. Both these fans live in deluded, one-sided romantic relationships with Tiffany– at one point getting into a jealous conflict with each other over it. 

It’s mostly sad. You can see clearly that it was a profound sense of loneliness that compelled each of them into this parasocial delusion. One subject had been diagnosed with Asperger’s at a young age and never had the opportunity to enter into a romantic relationship. The other, a trans woman, felt totally rejected and isolated from society that she was desperately reaching out for Love at every turn.

Everyone needs Love. We need connection and relationships and validation and intimacy. These are primal human needs. Without them, it is very easy to fall into a deep loneliness and eventually, a sort of psychosis.

Tiffany, quite honestly, had very little to do with the entire situation. She was merely a figurehead to project these feelings on to. She was completely unaware that someone was interpreting her every little public move as either a validation or rejection of this imagined relationship– and very little control over managing their reaction if they ever felt dismissed or denied by her. 

In 2016, Christina Grimmie was signing autographs after a concert when she was shot and killed by a fan who had a delusional romantic obsession with her. She had no idea he even existed until the moment he decided to end her life. Yet he had, that entire time, been engaging in this unhealthy fantasy of a relationship with her– culminating in a sense of rejection so strong that he thought well, if I can’t have you, no one can. 

The degree to which the internet allows strangers to develop a parasocial relationship with you is frightening. There is absolutely no way you can control the perception of yourself. As a fashion-obsessed person with a curvier body, I know this to be painfully true. Every day, my TikTok comments are flooded with creepy, romantic advances of men from around the world.

I went through a particularly humiliating experience where, while at a party with my boyfriend, one of his friends wouldn’t stop translating the Russian comments on my videos and reading aloud all their unrequited, uncomfortable sexual fantasies with me in front of everyone. It was so embarrassing. I was paralyzed in the moment, but I wanted so badly to say: 

I didn’t ask for this!

I just wanted to post outfit videos online like everyone else!

Is it a crime to let yourself feel beautiful?

Situations like this force me to constantly interrogate if “success” is really what I want– or do I just want the vain indulgence of being “a success”? We are always seeing depictions of stardom in the media. HBO’s The Other Two, Netflix’s Britney vs Spears, Amy (2015). I watch those and think: is that a life I really want? A life of overexposure, A life open to constant critique and scrupulation– of  extreme vulnerability? Am I willing to sacrifice my privacy and my safety in pursuit of this dream? Am I willing to become a workhorse and overmarket my image in order to become “successful”?

No. I have zero interest in being a “Personality” or a “Content Creator”– and definitely not an “Influencer”. But I wrestle with the degree to which I can pursue this dream without playing those games. I want so badly to publish a book– and to do it right. I want to do crazy marketing events, throw a big launch party, do readings at bookstores and maybe even do a talk at a University.

But moreso, I want a happy life. I want to live in a little house with my little family. I want to cook delicious dinners and laugh with my friends and watch TV. I don’t care if no one knows my name after I die. I have no fears about living a life that is lost to history. All that matters to me is the here and now.  So, if that means sacrificing a certain tier of success in lieu of a comfortable and happy day-to-day life, so be it.

Anyways! All that to say, I’m still writing my next book! At the moment, it is centered around Glamour— although don’t be surprised if it changes wildly before publication. It already has many times. I really, truly, deeply, genuinely, and whole-heartedly hope you like it. 

I have big plans for the future. I know I just waxed poetic for a page and a half about my disavowal of fame and the pursuit of it– but I still want to take this dream as far as I comfortably can. I’m excited to take you along for the ride.

In the meantime, please keep up with Material Pursuit! I am so proud of the work being done at Byline and am very hopeful about the future there.

Talk soon.