Every morning I wake up and I start thinking about doing my yoga exercises.
Every morning I use my boyfriend (well, I don’t have a boyfriend actually, but every blogger has a guy taking pictures of them ALL day long, so let’s just pretend I have one) to take some pictures of me while I am practicing Sitsasana or Surya Namaskara, and I am wearing a super-cool outfit – I will clearly tag its brand in one of my posts.
Thanks brand for making me feel cool early in the morning.
To be honest I cannot do anything because I’m not really a sportsgirl, but the secret to be a blogger is: pretending to be one.
So I usually steal pictures of other yogi girls who look like me on Pinterest.
After my yoga training I have a coffee. But before drinking I jump on my shabby-chic chair and I take a pic for my Instagram. A white table, a cup of coffee, two shaped-heart biscuits that I will never eat and click, click, click. My second post of the day for my social networks is ready.
Good morning from Paris, London or New York
(You would never say “Good morning from Pieve a Maiano”)
Then, I start “working”. I put my Mac on top of my very white bed; I have my white agenda next to my brown cat and I am ready to take the third pic of the day.
I basically stalk some brands or companies to ask them to take me of free trips.
“Hi, I am a very famous blogger from Italy, I have 6 millions fans, of course they’re all real, I need a room in your super hotel in New York because if I tag myself in such a room with such an amazing view everybody will be jealous, and this is exactly what I want”
Sometimes I also talk to my manager asking tips about what lipstick color I should wear in one of my very well paid posts.
Work, work, work, work
Lunch time. I cannot wait to have a lunch with my babes. I cannot wait to eat salmon and avocado and drink a fresh juice.
I ask my babes if they can put their perfect manicured hands on the table and hold a side of their plates so I take a pic.
It takes some time before we start eating because the photo has to be perfect to be shared.
Yummy, lunch with my babes
Still work to do. God, I’m so tired. I usually go around Milan (if I’m not traveling around the world and staying at amazing hotels I never pay for, of course) for my fittings, appointments and coffees with fashion P.Rs.
Thanks Uber for taking me around.
When I have my photo shoots I’m so stressed! I have my make up artist, my hairdresser, and my stylist; however, they make me waste so much time just for a 15 minutes photo shoot.
This is a very hard job, really.
Time for Instagram Stories: I pretend to sing a song dancing like a bitch, while my hairdresser is doing my hair. I have to show my fans that I am not only clever (because we all know that I am, don’t we?), but that I am very funny too.
Shooting with brand, brand, brand, brand, brand, brand and brand (the same brands every blogger works with, but we don’t like being different)
Shooting for $$$$$$$$$$
In the evening, if I’m not out for a drink with my babes, I like to chill out with my boyfriend and my cat. My boyfriend is the same guy who takes pictures of me while I am practicing yoga in the morning. So, in the evening, he does the same: he takes pictures of me while I am relaxing on my white sofa (placed in the middle of an amazing white house with a furry grey carpet – of course it’s not my house, but I pretend that it is), while I am drinking some #detoxjuices.
Thanks brand for helping me cleaning my body.
My boyfriend is an amazing tripod: we never fight because he never speaks. He is amazing.
Love is in the air
Time to go to bed. I wear my “normal” pijama because I am a versatile girl, I can easily wear elegant dresses, yoga trousers and a Mickey Mouse pijama. I am fucking cool.
And I take a selfie.
Good night (followed by the moon and the face with “zzz” emoticon).
Why did I write in english?
Come on, because I am a rad blogger, and rad bloggers don’t speak italian.
Thanks Cristina for proofreading my post (even if I should’t say it because I am too cool).