Authentic, disconnected and real: why Gen Z fell in love with #digicams

The lo-fi aesthetic of the late nineties/early noughties has been a thing with Gen Z for a while and social media is awash with snaps that are the polar opposite of stylised selfies. They’re in the moment; messy, overexposed and unedited but, boy, do they look fun. What we’re seeing appears to be truly spontaneous and authentic. Anti-staged. Unposed. Real.

And while there are apps and filters which offer a pretty good representation of the grainy, badly lit ‘Indie Sleaze’ look, there is high demand for ‘vintage’ digital cameras (or #digicams, as they are affectionately known), such as the pocket-sized IXUS and Canon PowerShot models, which give a more authentic look. And this is key because when Gen Z entered the world of social media, millennials were artfully shooting, editing and curating every square on their grid.

Gen Z and Gen Alpha see no sense in working to please their audience when they could be pleasing themselves. That’s not to say that they are selfish – they just hold a different set of values to those we’ve been so used to seeing across social media over the last decade. If ten years of stylised selfies, gym poses and posts about being #blessed while watching the sunset have taught us anything, it’s that social media is hard work. Why on earth would a generation who have grown up through one crisis after another want to put themselves through even more stress?

This prioritisation of ‘vibes over polish’ is far too integral to their online presence to be simply dismissed as a trend, which begs the question: is it just driven by feelings of resentment towards the filtered and audience-pleasing approach of millennials – or is there something more fundamental at play? Could it be that we’re witnessing, in semi-real time, an exhausted post-Covid generation? Young people who have filter fatigue, while also being up to their necks in Generative AI? Who occupy a world where they question the truth of everything, but must also be permanently ‘on’?

It's a lot. But how has this translated to scrappy, low megapixel candid photography? As usual, social media holds many of the answers. A teenager born in 2008 would have been 12 when the first Covid 19 lockdowns came into place, propelling them from the playground into a primarily online world. One that was bursting at the seams with pandemic misinformation and conspiracy theories, during a time when photos could be edited and shared almost instantly. Where no-one is quite what or who they seem because of a heavy fog of Instagram filters, Facetune and Photoshop. Then Covid left, Generative AI arrived, and absolute fantasies are suddenly just a prompt away.

There simply aren’t the emoji to convey the mental heavy lifting that’s been necessary for these young people in just four absolutely astonishing years. The combination of social isolation and increased use in technology has either created or exacerbated poor mental health in the young. Educators too routinely report that their teenage students are less trusting and more anxious. Is it any wonder that they are seeking something ‘real’?

That word again. It’s a deliberate choice and to demonstrate why, let’s do a little exercise. Think about what a typical teenager’s bedroom might have looked like in the 1990s versus today. Yes, there would be posters on the walls, clothes on the floor and the empty cups that exasperated parents have been complaining about for generations. But there would also be books, magazines and CDs everywhere. No laptop, tablet, smartphone or e-reader. It’s telling that at the same time as youngsters are hunting through cupboards and thrift stores for their parents’ old school Canon cameras, they are also buying CDs and asking for mini photo printers for their birthdays.

It coincides with a time when an Instagram bug was held responsible for deleting archived stories. And artists, frustrated by the financial limits of streaming, are once again selling limited edition CDs with exclusive tracks, posters, stickers and badges included. These are things that can be owned and treasured. While convenient, the intangibility and risk factor of the subscription economy seems to have sent teens full circle. They want some physical ownership and a little safe distance from the online world when it suits them. Slipping a digital camera into their pocket might not seem much different to the virtual nature of a phone, but for today’s teens there is a gulf between the two.

Because they are a connected generation, no matter what, and everything about them has been culturally shaped by the always online, wherever, whenever mobile technology that arrived in the world at the same time as they did. With its enormous benefits comes an equal amount of pressure and, sadly, a life lived anxiously because your face could be anywhere. A digicam opens up a space between fun and the phone, a little pocket of time where it’s forever 2002, no one cares about looking perfect and nothing can be done with the photos until the cold light of day.

When the world moves at a million miles an hour, and viral can happen in a matter of minutes, there is something truly gentle, joyful and healthy in the idea that young people are choosing to put space between the images they take and the places they eventually share them. It seems that their response to the pressures of social media is to try – consciously or not – to change it from within. So, by relegating the smartphone to second place during a night out, Gen Z are temporarily disconnecting from the online world, but still have that crucial proof of an amazing time. Like they say, “pics, or it didn’t happen”.