The Third Column

  Every three weeks, a new algorithm-backed aesthetic drops on our feeds—"Tomato Girl Summer," "Corporate Siren," "Mob Wife," "Eclectic Grandpa." We’ve turned personal style into an endless dress-up menu for the internet. The harsh truth? If your wardrobe changes every time your FYP refreshes, you don't have style. You have an algorithm subscription. We used to buy clothes to live in them, beat them up, and build a real history together. Now, pieces are bought for a 15-second video, worn once, and banished to the back of the closet the second the internet moves on to the next gimmick. Everyone thinks they’re expressing their unique identity, yet an entire generation shows up to the exact same spots looking like they were dressed by the same central server. It’s not individuality—it’s crowdsourced costume design. Real style isn't bought in a monthly haul. It’s found in repetition—wearing the same structured blazer, the same fluid drape ski...

It feels like we’ve optimised actual conversation right out of our lives. Nobody calls. Nobody stops for an unplanned chat. Everything is buffered through a screen—typed, filtered, scheduled, or sent as an audio note. We say we’re "too busy," but the truth is we’ve just traded real-time connection for convenience. Don't get me wrong, the digital world has its boons and its own rhythm. It keeps us connected across distances, speeds things up, and lets us manage absolute chaos. It has its purpose, and it’s here to stay. But where is the world actually going if every interaction becomes transactional? Efficiency is great for getting things done, but it’s terrible for genuine connection. When we hide behind screens to stay comfortable, we lose the unedited, spontaneous moments that actually make us feel human. The digital shift isn't inherently bad. It has its place. But at some point, we have to ask ourselves if we’re using technology to stay connected, or just using it ...