Worth Following
The internet in 2009 was mostly garbage - endless blogs about nothing, lies, people posting about their shopping and TV shows like it mattered. But there were a few with actual substance going on.
Deef Pirmasens at Gefühlskonserve lived in Munich, gamed constantly, actually read things, didn’t apologize for his opinions. The kind of person you keep following because they’re not performing - just thinking out loud.
Neslisah wrote NESNES.DE from around Istanbul. Turkish, sharp, writing about music and photography and whatever life was throwing at her. She played this character - founder of NESNES Company, this whole empire - and pulled it off convincingly. Impossible to pin down, which was the point.
Thilo at Hasencore wrote like I did - crude, sexual, mixing it all together without apology. Sex, breasts, daily complaints, whatever came to mind. Maybe he drank too much, maybe he couldn’t get over his ex Liz, but the whole package worked. The blogs that lasted weren’t trying to please you.
The Pimpettes - Ines, Kaethe, Tanja, and the others - posted what they wanted. Faces blurred, everything else exposed. Naked breasts, fashion, frank sexuality. Unapologetic. You either got it or you didn’t.
Hotzen and Alex Hauck seemed cursed with having to be creative. Hotzen blogged design and photography, Alex ran C33 with massive posts about music videos and exhibitions - building something visually strange and inventive.
Woxy and Laura at The Fucking Fucks wrote about fashion and they were beautiful and they had taste and you could feel both on the page. Made you want to read about clothes.
Elv in Berlin took fashion seriously without being precious. Not like the twelve-year-olds posting their snoopy sweaters on Funpic. She had ideas, weird combinations that worked, danger in her choices.
Maria at ♥ parti collected images - beautiful, weird, sexual, whatever had shape. She had the eye. The volume of good stuff she found was just there if you wanted to look.
München’s Lieblingslied was two students running through Munich, asking people about their favorite songs, filming it. Simple idea, solid execution - the kind of project that made you believe someone was going to do something real with it.
Franzi at Indigoidian was 24, writing from northern Hesse about weird things, found things, sex things, stories that didn’t belong anywhere else. I followed her for a while. There was something about the writing that kept pulling me back - something I couldn’t name. The kind of discovery you make when you’re not looking for anything, and suddenly there’s something that matters.