In the spirit of living in less theory and more practice, I decided over the weekend to put this commitment to the test. I wanted to make a vlog… something simple like a “day in my life in DC.”
A few minutes into making the decision, I already felt my adult-marketing brain starting to overthink everything. Did I need a script? Should I build a storyboard? How would I be strategically unique? I pulled myself out of the wormhole quickly (before it was too late).
Instead, I asked myself: “What if it was actually easy? What would the laziest, simplest version of this look like for me?” A lightbulb went off: I laid on my couch and pulled out my notes app. I jotted down a few bullet points until they became a rough shot list. It was actually just what I wanted to do that day: go to a museum, get a coffee, stop by Union Market, and get some groceries at Trader Joe’s. It took me 10-15 minutes to write and think through the logistics (metro time, order of filming, etc.)
Now, would this video be the greatest vlog of all time? Of course not. In fact, it wouldn’t even have been a 20-minute “proper” vlog. I had a feeling it’d make it to about 5 minutes at most when all was said and done. I was right:
I admittedly didn’t get through the entire shot list and it’s not the most cohesive piece of content, but I threw it together and now it lives online. It took me…
10-15 minutes to write out the video concept
5-6 hours out and about to film on my iPhone
One afternoon to edit on CapCut (Desktop)
I’m sure with more practice, I can do it faster and better. This micro vlog is quite simple and nothing crazy in concept, but I’m glad the memory is now alive for me to look back on in the future.
The irony of getting more “seasoned”
If you know me personally, you might know that I used to actually have a YouTube channel when I was in college. Back then, it was mainly videos I was making while studying abroad in South Korea. I had about 1,500 subscribers back then — not bad for a college gal having fun.
When it was time to graduate, career and college counselors seemed to echo over and over again that we needed to be professional online to get a job. Out of fear, I ended up deleting my channel. I got overly conscious about looking professional and polished online. That was 12 years ago!
I did end up getting a job, moving to New York City, and living my twenties out in the greatest city in this country. Not every day was exciting, but my years there certainly would’ve made a wonderful archive of vlogs.
I completely regret deleting that channel to this day due to the digital mementos I’ve lost. (My external drive ended up getting damaged and I lost all the backup files.) I didn’t think about it too much from any other perspective.
But ironically, as the years went by and I got more “seasoned” in my career, I realized how much of a missed opportunity I had from losing that channel. It wasn’t that I thought I would’ve “made it” somehow, but I did wonder what would’ve happened, skill-wise and creatively, if I had kept going.
Over the decade, funny YouTube personalities became “influencers” or “talent,” who then became full-blown media partners. They became the sought-after individuals I would end up briefing on behalf of clients. Concepts, strategy, and storyboards became inevitably more complex, red-taped, and high stakes. (Funny enough, this pattern has appeared in many other aspects of life as I’ve gotten a little older.)
Nowadays, I find myself revisiting all the things I used to love with a fresh question: What if this was easy again? How would I do it differently? Simply asking myself this question is getting me unstuck and moving forward.
I feel similarly to projects I started when I was younger. What if I had continued?
I’m glad you’re picking this up again with a new perspective.
what if it was easy?
a beautiful q, ty