Why I charge for my Substack

All these Substacks are getting expensive, no? Let's address the elephant in the room.

Confession: I have a weird cheap side. I hate paying for certain things. Like $20 for internet on American Airlines! We paid for business class … but this. I just could not. So I get it. I get how $8 a month is not nothing. Especially when you start subscribing to lots of them. Honestly most of the time I start with the free no pledge option.

Heck I haven’t even wanted to pay for a New York Times subscription. And that’s so weird. I’m a writer, I need to read this. But like it feels so sudden! Just yesterday you could just hop on and read it all for free. I mean just yesterday was like a decade or so ago, but still!

Once, my mom felt the same about print magazines. They were a luxury. Paper you looked at and tossed! Could you ever? One of our fave mother-daughter activities was arriving early for a flight, sitting on a suitcase, and reading all the magazines in the news stand. And one of the first things I did when I made my own money was subscribe to every single magazine out there. Ahhhhhhh. (When I was done, of course, I passed them all on to Mom. I mean let’s not be ridiculous.)

Eventually, though, I came around to the NYT. And to New York Magazine online too. Gotta have my Cut. Because, look, the model has changed. The quickest way to age is to stop moving forward and accepting new things that can offer joy. My Leandra, My Becky, My Magasin. These are treats. I’ve earned the right to delight in them, and honestly, they’re worth it. I get that there’s time and legwork involved on the other side.

Thank you for valuing me. I value you!

As for my own Substack, I started out playing around, exploring the medium. But then I decided that this would be a real thing. (And I am a do-what-I-say-I’m-going-to-do kind of person to a fault.) I got confident that I could commit to 2-3 times a week. And also that I could deliver new information, and valuable information. And make it worth the $8 a month. But even more than that, attaching money makes it somehow real. Money is a way we signal value; sometimes the only way we’ve got. I’m honored that this is a community of people who value what I have to say; it helps me feel comfortable saying it. It helps ensure that you’re intending to read it! Or you wouldn’t pay even this small amount.

I want my insights and tips to truly be additive.

I also like charging a subscription fee and having it be the main way I make money with the kind of style tips I write about. It keeps me very dedicated to providing information and insights you’re not hearing all over the place, and ensures that they’re genuine and not brand-influenced. I didn’t like the idea of accepting money or merch from brands (wrote about this here), and I have determined not to do that except in truly meaningful and thoughtful cases. (In fact, I’m often buying and returning on my own dime in order to speak confidently to what I’m writing about.) So this is the way you pay for what I do here, which is to create the kind of content I like to read! Genuine. New ideas. Ahas. Tips and links. All of it free of ads. (Some of the people I love and whose style I really value, now so many of their posts are ads; I’m missing that feeling that I’m seeing their genuine personal style.)

I customize my work for you

If you write me with a question here, I will do my very best to answer it. And will do so promptly or tell you when you can expect it! So for example, when my friend Maura asked me what she should wear under all this sheer stuff, she (and we!) got The Cover Your Ass Memo … and when Jenny noted in a comment that she never has a reason to dress in a day fill of practical activities, I wrote about “Lofted Settledness” - the feeling that comes from dressing, even at home, what it is and how to get it and suggesting we all #sashup for what Jenny called the pageant of life.

And I’m vulnerable here

Somehow knowing everyone has paid even a nominal amount to be here makes me feel safer. I balance my practical shopping tips and links with some very vulnerable stuff on aging, who we are, how we feel, sadness, internal conflict, family, all the things, all with some personal anecdotes. It’s not here for the dissection or inspection of some random lurker, etc! I feel this is a community where I don’t have to “present” with shoe polish, where I can be me, and you can be you, scuffs and all.

Keep me honest, and be honest with yourself

I do suggest that you look critically at your Substack subscriptions, just as I suggest you do with your closet! A few things to ask yourself, especially if you are paying for a subscription:

• Am I learning something new?

• Something useful?

• Am I being pushed to think in a new way?

• Does this feel like an afterthought for the writer vs. other things they do?

• Does it feel like an ad?

• Does this connect with me personally?

• When this arrives in my mailbox am I excited?

• Do I trust the insights here?

• Does this jibe with my moral core? (I’m about to unsub from one that’s only showing me fast fashion)

• Is the writer responsive/communicative/kind?

Free if you need me

Having said all of the above, if you are experiencing actual financial hardship, I always want to be helpful. I have gotten some asks along the lines of “I have 3 kids and I can’t keep track of all these subscriptions so can I just read this article” but what I think about more is a student on financial aid, an individual who does not have a level playing field, a single parent, etc. Please write to me if that’s you. I respond. Ask me for a Standing Coffee.

Oh, and use the heck out of this!

Once you’ve paid for it, you should be getting value out of it! Tell me what you want more (and less) of. Tell me what style quandaries are on your mind. I want to help tackle them.

XOXO,

Rachel