So, I was scrolling online the other day, and you know how it is, you see these things, these big, shiny events. This time, it was something about a “Livvy Dunne White Party.” You see the pictures, everyone in white, looking all perfect and having a blast, supposedly. And it got me thinking, or rather, it got me doing something.
I figured, okay, what’s the big deal with these themed parties, especially the “all-white” aesthetic? Is it really that magical? So, I decided to try and capture a tiny bit of that vibe myself. Not a massive bash, mind you, just a small get-together with a few friends. The rule was simple: wear white. Sounds easy, right?
Well, let me tell you, the actual process was a pain. First off, coordinating everyone to actually find and wear white. You’d think it’s a basic color, but nope. “I don’t have anything white that’s not a t-shirt,” or “Does cream count?” Then, trying to make the space look somewhat “chic” with white stuff without spending a fortune. I was running around like a headless chicken trying to find white tablecloths that didn’t look like bedsheets and some decent white decorations that weren’t leftover from Christmas.
The whole thing was more effort than I bargained for. And for what? For a specific look. That’s what hit me. During the actual get-together, which was fine, don’t get me wrong, good company is always good, but the “white” theme? It didn’t add any special magic. What it did do was make everyone super conscious about spills. Red wine was a no-go, obviously. People were mostly just taking pictures. Lots of pictures. “Gotta get this for the ‘gram,” you know?
Why am I even going on about this? Because it reminded me of something. A few years back, I got this idea to start a little side hustle, trying to sell some handcrafted wooden signs online. I thought, “I like making things, people like custom stuff, this could work.” I spent weeks building a nice little website, taking what I thought were really good photos of my signs. I was so meticulous about the lighting, the angles, making them look perfect. I even tried to make a few “behind the scenes” videos, thinking that’s what people wanted to see – the “authentic” process.
The reality was, I spent more time staging photos and trying to write catchy descriptions than actually making the signs. And the sales? Barely trickled in. All that effort to project an image, a brand, and it just felt… hollow. It sucked the fun out of my workshop, which used to be my escape. It turned my hobby into a chore driven by how it would look online, not by the joy of creating.
So when I see these big, elaborate “Livvy Dunne White Party” type events, yeah, they look stunning. But all I can think about is the immense pressure and coordination, not for the experience itself, but for the documentation of the experience. It feels like a massive content creation exercise. Every smile, every pose, every perfectly placed white accessory – it’s all for the camera, for the feed. How much of it is genuine, spontaneous fun, and how much is work? It’s a performance, a well-orchestrated one.
I guess it’s easy to get caught up in wanting things to look a certain way, especially with social media breathing down our necks. But my little white-themed experiment, and remembering that frustrating sign-selling attempt, just kind of reinforced that for me. Sometimes, the best times are the ones where nobody’s thinking about the dress code or the right camera angle. They just happen. Maybe I’m just getting old, but I’ll take a messy, un-photogenic good time over a perfectly curated image any day.
