Dear readers. This time I want to deal with a problem that preoccupies many, a black cloud in our ten lives, a severe crisis that threatens the fragile routine of all of us: I have not yet received a blue check.
I passed the 10,000 followers on TikTok - blue hook is not. I know, it's been a tough week and you've all been hoping for some good news, but reality is patting us in the face again.
And if I don't have a blue V, then what will the wall mosses text? What will my friend Omri, who suggested I open a TikTok account when one of my songs became a trend on the app, and in response I laughed in his face and told him I still have self-respect, what would he say?
When COVID-19 ended and advertising costs for concerts started to rise, when I insisted on recording another remote project for a New Zealand fog siren album, Omri, who is a smart guy, offered to invest a little more in the content I post on social media. "You're funny, make something up, or sing, put on lipstick and take a picture of yourself for a second, well."
I replied with an angry cat's exhale: "I don't like to be photographed!" Omri is an intelligent guy, so he didn't argue. To do a favor (mentally I'm really 14), I posted a story of my knee on Instagram.
For a long time, my relationship with Instagram looked like this: I rarely post enigmatic stories, and in response, nothing happens. Believe me, female singers can also be offended by their algorithm.
"But it's not me! I'm a woman of words!", or 793 words in a Facebook post without an image, which you have to click three times to get to the end of the text. "I'm a woman of words!" – that is, puns that people on Twitter really like, like:
Adam: Running out of yogurt
Me: Which yogurt comes to me
• • •
As fate would have it, we just decided to open a show in a bigger venue, which usually means that people should know that it's happening, otherwise I'll be stuck in this big hall alone with the soundman, which on the face of it sounds fun, really, but will cost me a lot of money. I actually had a lot of puns on it, but unfortunately people on Twitter are like me - grumpy. And grumpy people are less likely to go to concerts that have noise and... Other people.
So I gave myself a guided imagery that I was an auxiliary, opened a camera, sat down facing the window and said all kinds of nonsense. Then, God help me, I had to edit it so I had to watch! Myself! Talking!!! But what do you know, people watched it and liked it and clicked all the buttons that need to be pushed for the algorithm to admit your existence.
Then came a few occasions when it was really urgent for me to say something, political or social. From video to video, it hurt a little less, and I slowly came to terms with the fact that I didn't look like Giselle from every angle, and that from certain angles it definitely looked like I was 43 years old and had more chins than my inventory says (the list from 2014 includes one chin, waist and jawline).
• • •
But the truth is that on TikTok, unlike Instagram and like in the real world, a lot of people don't look like Giselle and they don't even apologize for it. Very unfashionably late I discovered that I could be who I was online, even if who I was would never dance in front of a camera, take pictures of her children or do the wipe challenge (there isn't one, I just made it up, but it could have been).
And I started finding my people. The ones I enjoy and learn about and they're from me, and I've started getting offers from all kinds of people who want to send me stuff and for me to post videos on, and from all kinds of influencer agencies ("Girls, I have a coupon code for you today on an ear warmer for rabbits/ soap for a motorcycle/ a mask for eyebrows"), but I don't think I want to be an influencer, because I don't want to sell anything but my music. And maybe, maybe eyebrow cream.
Then came the moment when my followers exceeded 10,000 (young people call it 10K). For the benefit of those who are not knowledgeable, this is the number at which account holders receive a "standard mark" from the app – the coveted blue hook that is at the same time both a status symbol and a literal one does not change anything – and I sat in the living room and waited for someone from TikTok to come and bring me a cake, or at least some phone, but no one came or called. I refreshed the app once an hour, but nothing! No blue V!
• • •
The web said you had to apply through the app, but I searched and couldn't find any. Then I called someone from TikTok to help me, and she said it really wasn't possible through the app and since then she's filtered me, and I'm left with no blue check, no hope, and no dream. Yes, you can be petty and say that it doesn't matter in any way, that it's completely meaningless, but that wouldn't be true. You might as well say, "Where's the blue hook????" - and right now I prefer the second option.
Soon I'll reach 10,000 followers on Instagram as well (cough, Instagram employees, cough, pay attention, cough). It used to feel like blasphemy to upload content that was neither music nor text. Today it's nice for me that people can get to know me and I them without intermediaries.
For example, this newspaper. You have no idea, after all, if and to what extent I am being edited here. Maybe I'm sending a much longer text and it's all about the Earth being a hexagon on a giant furry octopus - no! Don't delete it!! You won't silence me!!
Wrong? We'll fix it! If you find a mistake in the article, please share with us