Nowadays, it’s not enough to just be a writer, typing away your
thoughts on a typewriter in the middle of the countryside like a Sylvia Plath
type. You must also have a social media presence to validate your existence,
making you worthy of even writing a novel, poetry, or what have you. And some
of the most successful writers today are not only Google-able, but use their space online to create a real
brand for themselves. There are two ways that this personal branding can go:
the first, and more likely traveled route, is the shameless self-promotional
branding pertaining to all online personalities, not just writers (See: The
Kardashians, Charlie Sheen… or even Walt Whitman, who although pre-dates the
Internet, knew the importance of mastering the management his public image.),
which involves "pimping" oneself in order to get recognition. However, a more rare type
of personal branding is the type of branding that helps you really know the
person, not put them on a pedestal of celebrity (See: Mindy Kaling, Kathy Griffin,
and Lena Dunham).
That’s what I love about authors like Sloane Crosley. They’re hip
to the change in pace of writing, but use the new system in a meaningful way.
The online projects that Sloane Crosley has taken on (aside from her essay writings) have been fun and witty, while staying true to who she projects in her memoirs. It’s
no coincidence that one of my closest friends Lyris first introduced me to
her, as Sloane creates an image
for herself that’s so intimate that I really do feel as if I'm sitting with her in her living room, rehashing details from last night. Although Sloane is
surely as famous as other media figures out there, it’s the way that she uses her brand that sets her apart from the pack.
This is an excerpt from a post a wrote for BUST Magazine:
From the moment I
saw I Was Told There’d Be Cake on
the bookshelf, I
knew Sloane Crosley was a girl after my heart and taste buds. As a 17
year-old, I have looked to my fellow New Yorker’s escapades as letters from an
imaginary older sister. Although I am interested in a career as a style
journalist, I also am very interested in keeping up with all of my mini-essays
that I hash out in my own diary.
Sloane herself is part
anthropologist, part diarist; she is acutely observant of the people, places,
and things, around her....she knows her nouns. In 2011, she started an online
project, Sad Stuff On The Street,
with her then-partner, Greg Larson, which seeks to tell the stories of sad
objects lost on the street. It’s year two of the project, and I caught up with
Sloane to talk about how the project began, the saddest things she’s ever
found, and what’s next for the project. I am so honored to have been able to
interview one of the raddest writers out there—read on below.
When and why was Sad
Stuff On The Street started?
My friend Greg and I
started it over a year ago. A couple of years before that, we met and I began a
long-distance relationship, with him in San Francisco and me in New York. I
guess I would say that taking pictures of bittersweet garbage on the street was
one way we kept in touch, but we probably would have done it if we lived in the
same city. The relations part of the relationship didn't continue. We broke up,
but we stayed great friends — I saw him today, actually — and we kept sending
each other sad things. There's a detailed and self-indulgent version of this
story buried within the site.
On the site there
are some serious and hilarious debates as to what constitutes an object as
being “sad.” Has there been a consensus?
I think our standards
have gone up now that we've had such international sadness exposure and we have
so much more material. I'm not trying to elevate a Tumblr here, but it has been
really fun to watch. One week will bring us submissions from France, Japan,
Australia, Brazil, Yemen, North Korea...we had a month where there was an
unusual influx from Russia. Guess who does sad stuff really well? The Russians.
Anyway, sadness is a
mood. So what goes on the site is subject to our moods. I know if I see too
many decapitated dolls, I have an anti-dolly reaction and will hold off on
putting them up. Just because we try to go for something a little more
unusually sad. We like funny sad things with heart. I personally like the stuff
that's very morbid without being disgusting. So a good exception to the doll
rule was a recent submission of a clear plastic bag stuffed with about twenty
naked Barbies and ties to a fence. That's creepy-sad and that's for us.
There's no real
consensus, though. We both like a post where you're left wondering how the hell
the sad thing came to be. We also both have veto power and rarely use it. I
would say Greg is slightly less dark — slightly — and has a great eye for the
classics. If you see a beautiful, busted rainbow umbrella, drowning in a
puddle, that's Greg. Or all the "Depressed Teddy Bear Series" and
"Depressed Elmo Series" are Greg.
What is the saddest
thing you or Greg ever found on the street? Favorite? Weirdest?
That's really hard. I
can look but that feels like cheating. Off the top of my head, there was an
elaborate toy pirate ship shipwrecked next to a tree on a street in Paris.
That's my own longstanding favorite. There was a mattress that said,
"Nothing really mattress." Once Greg found a cardboard box full of
"Free Bread Sandwiches." Recently there was a drowning penguin
stuffed animal and that is a good example of how context can make a post — he
was found on the side of a canal in Venice, Italy.
Do you think there’s
a place in heaven for lost objects?
I don't think they're
ever lost. They just move.
Do you ever take the
objects home with you? Or do you like to leave them there as more of a gift of
street art?
Eww, gross, no. But Greg
and I take very few of the photos these days. So I'm not in Mexico City to pick
up said object. I wish I was.
Has anyone ever
contacted you after seeing a post on the site, claiming that that was their
missing item?
Not directly. People
have posted things on their personal blog. Sometimes we get notes if we leave
off or mess up a link to a sumbitter's personal page. Another great side-effect
to this is that the photography community seems to have gotten in on it. And
we'll sometimes get these stunning photographs from professional photographers
who just see it as another space to share work that wouldn't go in a magazine
or to a gallery.
Have you found that
there is a particular place in the world that has the highest concentration of
sad stuff?
Because of how we began,
just spreading the word to our friends, the site has the longest legs in New
York, San Francisco and Los Angeles. But it's really and truly everywhere. Lots
of Austin, Miami, Boston, Chicago. Small towns too. I'm always disappointed
that there's not more Las Vegas. Maybe if you're looking down in Las Vegas it's
because you lost a bunch of money and/or are about to puke. You're probably in
no mood to seek out external sources of melancholy.
What’s next for Sad
Stuff On The Street? Do you two have any plans to turn Sad Stuff into an essay
series? It would be really cool if there was some sort of meet-up series around
the United States, where people could bring in their objects or photos of their
objects, and share their stories!
Oh, well, thank you. We
do talk about it, about what to do next. We've had some ideas of our own as
well as a couple thrown our way. For now we're both just kind of in it for the
love of the sadness.
Thanks so much,
Sloane! Check out Sad Stuff On The Street here.
Follow me on Twitter @emmaedition
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