Insta death

It was a cold, stormy night. As the sounds of thunder boomed around the little suburban suburb of Northmead… Mum pulled out the photo albums. That was our way to get through the black out, flicking through the formative years of my life. We reminisced on memories and people we hadn’t thought of in years. A few tears may have been shed (by mum only… I promise). The time flew by before ultimately the power came back on, and we went back to watching whatever was on TV, and went on with our night.

This really made me think about the legacy of photos. I tried to imagine sitting with my future kids on a similar night, and… scrolling through my iPhone at the photos? Or my holographic mac by then who knows. Will it compare to physically flicking through photos with my mum?


Think about if our family photos were transported to an instagram page. No thoughts of likes, comments, followers, just trying to capture a moment to reminisce on later. Genuine smiles, conversations, moments being captured. That’s kind of what instagram is supposed to be right? A library of your photos with which people you know can comment and talk to you on. The ultimate photo album I guess. So could you see yourself in 10 years, scrolling through your instagram and showing your kids your life?


No doubt that your kids aren’t going to know everything about you. But what will they see of your past? Half nude selfies fishing for likes? I guess the real issue here is not the photos being taken, but peoples self-obsession with the way they’re viewed in society and needing other peoples approval through social media.


As I’ve written this, I’ve started to wonder what’s going to happen to all the instagram accounts of our generation when we are 30+. All those hours wasted making sure your coffee is in the right position on your table, the lighting is right to show the faint (VERY FAINT) outline of your abs, or making sure you’re wearing that bra that makes you look like Sophia Vergara. We’ve all been guilty of this at some point. I know I’m always worrying about my bra. And for what really? People to tap a screen with their finger to show they like what you’ve done. What’s that really do for us? I assume eventually all of us will get sick of keeping up appearances for social media, right? Or will we all be old, and trying to find the right lighting to hide our wrinkles? Now that’s a scary thought.