GUEST COLUMNIST: Delete. The. App.
Today, we're hearing from Elizabeth, the love of my life and walking embodiment of an angel on earth. Her letter this week has me thinking about all of the different apps and pathways that have connected us. So many friends that are in my close circle were once mutuals on an app. Chelsea, Tim, Hannah, Sarah, Rob, Ari, Oskar. The list goes on. I met my husband on Twitter (when it was still Twitter).
Etta recently turned 1, which has me reflecting on the past year–it's been a weird one. If you would have asked me 365 days ago what I wanted to do for the next 30 years, you would have gotten a completely different answer than what I would say now. Plans change, people change, I changed. I think about how many friends came to visit when I was laid up with a broken leg, always with something in-hand. Friends out of state wrote me letters. Besties in other countries FaceTimed despite a 17-hour time difference to make sure I got their care package. You have such good friends, Sammy, my mom said. She's right, I do.
I've been trying to find that balance of motherhood, while I pivot into a new profession (iykyk), and try to live in the moment and not on a screen (the irony of writing this intro on my iPhone is not lost on me). All that to say, I'm taking Elizabeth's advice and deleting IG from my Tim Apple device, in an effort to be more present with loved ones, myself included. In the meantime, reach me by: pigeon, love letter, voice note, or yelling my name at the top of your lungs in hopes I hear you. We could also download Skype and video call each other because let’s be real, the sound of a FaceTime dial versus a Skype dial will never compare. Email is also acceptable.
You can subscribe to Elizabeth's Substack here and be notified when she publishes next. I love you guys. I love you, E.
Seriously, do it.
I deleted the Instagram app off my phone three-ish weeks ago. I truly do not miss doomscrolling. It was getting bad bad, you guys. My brain was mush.
I miss the memes, of course. And the astrology posts, the craft tutorials, the relatable motherhood content. These are small grievances for having a huge chunk of my time back. I’ve been using my iPad to access Instagram—mainly responding to DMs and managing the shop’s account. This happens a few times a week. I’ll scroll a little on my iPad but it is not as enticing as scrolling on your phone while cuddled up in bed.
Deleting the Instagram app off my phone has helped a lot, but I still find ways to spend time scrolling something. Lately it’s been Depop. I finally admitted to myself that the app has got to go, too. I check my email obsessively throughout the day (I have unsubscribed from a lot of junk mail). Or, I shop on websites I’ll never order from, curating carts that sit there only to go empty. And Pinterest! Oh how I have a new obsession with Pinterest. What else am I supposed to do at bedtime while waiting for the kids to fall asleep deep enough for me to slip away? Sit in the dark and use my imagination?! Terrifying.
All of this has reminded me that it’s not a singular app that is the problem, but the phone itself. We are all inextricably tied to these little boxes. We love holding it in our hands, feeling it jostle in our pockets. We anxiously, apathetically check to see if anyone (please, God, anyone!) has texted us. And if we misplace our phone, we must stop everything we are doing until it is found. At least, I know I have all of these tendencies, and more.
I was gifted a Nokia flip phone for my birthday this summer with the intention of partially replacing my smartphone. When I tried to set up the Nokia and move my iPhone’s SIM card over, I realized that my iPhone doesn’t have a physical SIM card. It has a digital one. Which means I need to buy a whole other SIM card for this “dumb phone” in order for it to work. Which means an additional cost to the phone bill and a whole new number. I’ll get around to doing all of that eventually, but it has put a damper on my excitement for the Nokia. These tasks are just another bullet point on a long list of chores I hope to get around to one day, hopefully, before I whither away and die.
Even though bringing my screen time down has benefits in every category of my life, it has the most impact on my business—and not necessarily a positive one. I have missed a handful of time-sensitive messages and potential connections. I have answered someone’s question only to find out the moment has passed for their request.
Contemporary tattoo artists (and every kind of artist) are plagued by the fact that an online presence is necessary in order to build a career. Some people are able to invest their time making funny reels that boost engagement or beautifully curated posts of their work—but most of us do not have the interest or knowledge and skill to do this well. Not to mention the time. A lot of creatives didn’t agree to be photographers, writers, editors, videographers and marketing strategists all at once when they set out to build a career from their art.
Social media is also the reason we are able to have so much success, and I am not blind to that either. Because of Instagram, I am able to fill my books when I open them. I can announce an event at the shop and show up to a line of people that goes, literally, around the corner. It is truly surreal!
All this to say, I don't know what to do. There is a part of me–and I don’t know how potent that part might be–that desperately wants to fall off the face of the internet in exchange for a 90’s inspired, analogy way of life. I crave it. I fantasize about it. It would surely solve all of my problems. And the other part of me knows that social media is a necessary evil and that I have to figure out how to use it with balance and restraint. To make it work for me in the way I want it to, rather than allow it to manipulate and control me.
And even so, I write this here, on another app that also has an algorithm and assumed ulterior motives for making money and gathering data. And even so, look at me spending my free time writing instead of aimlessly scrolling! And I’ll tell you what, this feels a heck of a lot more genuine and intentional than another fucking story on IG about my most recent menty B.
<3 E
P.S. Yes, I am re-reading Twilight.
P.P.S. This is the Substack email I woke up to this morning. Coincidence?! 🧐
Mark your calendars: our next in-person watch party is Nov. 29 at Elizabeth's shop, The Coven!
I'm excited to watch this one!
Thank you for reading! And thank you E for sharing 🫶🏼 Last month, I republished Ari's first issue of their newsletter, Hyperfixated. If you ever want your work shared, hit me up (see graph 1 of this newsletter for preferred methods of communication).
Sam Davenport