Dooce’s Death is Rocking My World
She had me at “hairy vagina.”
While overthinking what to say in my “Hello World!” inaugural Substack post, my stagnant brainstorm was brutally interrupted by a blurb in my morning New York Times roundup: “Heather Armstrong, ‘Queen of the Mommy Bloggers’ Is Dead at 47.”
If you know me, you’re likely aware of my feelings about the term “mommy bloggers.” I loathed it before I became a mom and now with two kids, it still sticks in my craw* (along with residual marketing terms like “mompreneur”). But none of this could quell my admiration— and honestly a good deal of jealousy — for Heather Armstrong and her blog Dooce. In 2001, a time in the Interweb’s infancy when people hadn’t quite tapped into their online voices, Heather had it dialed in. These days, people who tell it like it is are a dime a dozen, but she was truly a pioneer in the realm of unsolicited, irreverent navel gazing. And she’s damn good at it. She describes herself in a 2021 post as “the same Heather who made Banana Republic a little bit angry when I wrote a sponsored post containing the words ‘hairy vagina.’” Heather made me feel like I, too, could write about my hairy vagina. Her naked truths had a sprinkle of shock value on the surface, but it’s her insecurities exposed beneath that made you feel seen in her imperfect, wavering reflection. She made it okay to feel things that sound the “Am I crazy?” bells, and rang her bell right along with you. In a world where mental health is taboo, she bravely shared her struggles with alcoholism, depression, and sobriety.
In the wake of her passing, I’m refreshing my commitment to writing and will do my best to share weekly posts. I will write about everything from food and travel to style and climate change. This is my new weekly habit and you, reader, are my new workout pal who keeps me accountable. Thanks for spotting me.
*For my fellow word nerds, a “craw” is the part of a bird’s stomach where food is predigested before going into the gizzard. Man, the fowl digestive system is full of fun words. Lunch anyone?
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