“It takes discipline not to let social media steal your time.” — Alexis Ohanian
Discipline? Ok, now I know why my addiction to screens and social media is problematic at times; I need discipline. Sticking to a task or goal is a daily battle, and I often lose it. I was that way before cell phones, AOL, and Instagram, but those pursuits have made it worse. Actually, it’s more truthful to say that I have failed at taming my own temptations. It’s not the platforms; it’s me.
This week, I saw a social media trend that influenced thousands to line up to buy a $3 tote bag. A canvas bag, not even big enough for a dozen eggs and a loaf of bread, was the Holy Grail for some. A series of four new colors “dropped” this week, and every 20-something Insta-girl (and others) leaped into action. I think they use the term “dropped” because when one of these trends pops up, we all have to drop what we’re doing and go get the thing, do the dance, and wear whatever it is that’s trending until it’s over, and then we’re on to the next.
I’ve seen the news about the bags but have a slight problem with purses, totes, and handbags. It’s a side effect of my shoe addiction; if you have a nice pair of pumps, a bag that goes with them is the next step. Whether it’s one of my Amazon “dupes” or a prize piece of my vintage evening bag collection, the last thing I need is another purse. However, I was shopping in the store offering the new colors and, well…I was influenced right then and there.
Unlike the news reports, there were no hordes of screaming Gen Z girls (and their cool moms) plowing through crates of canvas totes. In fact, almost no one paid any mind to the bags at all, walking by them murmuring, “Oh, I think I saw those on the news,” and then picking up some cheese and “2 buck Chuck” (which, newsflash, now costs $3.50) and going on their way. I have a Gen Z daughter, so I grabbed one in each color for her. Of course, I did my due diligence and posted about them so others would know where they could get them.
The comments were flying: “You can sell it online for hundreds” and “Go back, buy a whole bunch, you’ll be rich,” and of course, a few people who pleaded, “OMG OMG, please, I will pay you, can you run back and get me some, I have to have them!” I returned and got one set for a friend because she asked, but I work in collectibles and see eBay sales data daily. These bags are not selling for hundreds. A $3 canvas grocery bag is not a retirement plan, in the same way a $10 bean-stuffed animal wasn’t, a pink Power Ranger wasn’t, and that Cabbage Patch doll wound up in a landfill, not a stock portfolio.
Why do so many of us buy into these fads? Is it the same mindset that had us all convinced that hiding under a school desk would save us from a nuclear bomb? We can’t blame social media entirely; there were no smartphones or apps like TikTok back in the day, but in 1938, a radio play by Orson Welles had thousands convinced that Martians were landing in New Jersey. Despite several announcements during the show that it was a play and not an actual news broadcast, there was widespread panic. Fake news isn’t new, I guess.
This week, it was a canvas bag that had everyone playing “Follow the leader,” but next week, it could be something more serious. I think discipline is a good idea—we have to train ourselves not to mindlessly follow along with whatever we see online. Influencers are not the enemy; many of them have experiences they share with others to inform, educate, or entertain. If we look at it as just something to watch for the heck of it, great, but we shouldn’t make every reel or YouTube video a call to action because that’s how we got Tide pods on the lunch menu. Cut back a little on the iPhone and go eat a real apple. I promise you’ll be better off.
Brenda Kelley Kim has lived in Marblehead for 50 years and is an author, freelance writer, and mother of three. Her column appears weekly.
