Eliza Brooke | The Verge

Instagram on desktop is better than mobile, change my mind

2018-03-23T17:44:27-04:00

Instagram launched in 2010 as a photo-sharing app designed to capture picturesque moments of our otherwise mundane lives. Since then, it’s evolved into a full social network, a messaging tool, and an ad platform, which exists in both mobile and desktop spaces.

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Now, most Instagram users opt for the mobile experience, replete with its familiar motions — scroll, double tap to like, scroll, scroll. But it’s come to our attention that there’s a population of Instagram users who actually prefer the web browser version. Which one is superior? We invited our colleagues from Racked, Eliza Brooke and Alanna Okun, to settle the debate.

Eliza: It’s Friday afternoon, so I would like to pick a fight.

Alanna: Say more.

Eliza: I really love Instagram on desktop. I believe this is an unpopular opinion.

“I would like to pick a fight.”

Alanna: It is! The only other person who I know of who prefers desk-gram is my mom. Who is a very smart and tech-savvy lady! But like, also my mom, so.

Eliza: I think my mom, too. So to start, Instagram is great on desktop because the images are huge, and because you don’t scroll as quickly, you really take the time to consider them. It’s like a magazine. This also means that you really figure out who you hate following. You can’t whisk away Donna’s shitty food photos like you do on the app. Eventually you will wind up unfollowing her, and that will make your life better.

Alanna: See, but that’s what I like about mobile — the lack of commitment. I have more choice in which photos I linger on (and zoom in on) and which ones I scroll right past. The thought of an image taking up a full, large screen is intimidating! I like the intimacy and the coziness of mobile, these little windows into people’s lives. And while I have reduced my number of hate-follows in my advanced age, I do keep a few around for schadenfreude and self-manufactured jealousy purposes.

Eliza: So, two things in response to that. One, the fact that images take up the full screen on desktop does mean that you need to be mindful of who’s around you and potentially looking over your shoulder. It’s like opening the hatch on all of your embarrassing lifestyle aspirations. You could make the same point about using the app on the subway, but it’s easier to tilt your phone screen away from prying eyes. Two, I find that desktop gives me some psychic space from the people I’m jealous of, whereas the intimacy of a phone makes me feel like I’m literally closer to my envy. Like I’m clutching my bad, gross secret to my chest.

Alanna: We’re making it sound like we’re the world’s most craven pervs on Insta.

Eliza: When it’s literally just us looking at [cool writer’s name redacted]’s apartment decor.

Alanna: God, I want her life.

Eliza: So much! Another great thing about Instagram on desktop is that you’re way, way, way less likely to fave someone’s photos while stalking them.

“I HAVE absolutely done some pretty embarrassing 112-weeks-in accidental faving”

Alanna: Ok, so while I HAVE absolutely done some pretty embarrassing 112-weeks-in accidental faving, that’s still not enough to convince me to switch to desktop. I kind of even like the thrill of mobile? It’s like that old board game Operation, where you have to meticulously tweeze bits ‘n’ pieces out of your unwitting patient.

Eliza: My parents did not instill healthy risk management in me as a child. I have done the thing where you are snooping through someone’s photos, leave their profile, are immediately filled with fear that you accidentally faved something, RETURN to their profile to make sure you didn’t fave something, and so on and so forth. It never ends.

Alanna: Another thing I don’t understand about your method is that half the joy of Instagram for me is its portability; I won’t lie, I’m not averse to bringing my phone into the bathroom with me. In fact, part of the way I forced myself to start flossing every night was when I began saving Instagram stories to watch while doing so!

Eliza: You have many more life hacks than I do.

Alanna: And this is actually psychotic but I kind of think of Instagram as like, my “unplugging” platform. Like when I’m lying in bed and am all done with Twitter and email and Facebook for the day, I switch over to the more passive, lulling scroll of Tumblr and Instagram. I know this is terrible for my REM cycles and brain and stuff, but I can’t help it! It brings me peace.

Eliza: I love that it does. I really struggle with Instagram self-control. A few months ago, my boyfriend, who does not have Instagram (and somewhat ruefully agreed to let me post photos of him if I really want to, so I never do), told me that every time I pick up my phone, the first thing I do is open Instagram. Apparently I would sometimes realize half a second later that I didn’t actually want Instagram and would swipe it away, but I always went there first. Clearly, I have a problem. I delete the app from my phone probably three times a week, and in its absence, the desktop version is a nice, less addictive middle ground. I consume Instagram in a much more moderate way now. That’s a huge part of why I prefer desktop.

The desktop version is a nice, less addictive middle ground

Alanna: That makes a lot of sense; I realize my reasoning for preferring mobile is also a testament to my full-blown addiction. Is there anything you do miss about the mobile version when you’re on desktop?

Eliza: I do miss the DMs. The app can be a really fun frenzy of tagging your friends and sending them things that you know they’ll love or that you can mutually eviscerate. But it’s also overwhelming, and you start to feel like you owe people something. Desktop is a quieter space. You also can’t post photos on desktop, which makes it a much more passive experience. I usually download the app again when I have something I desperately need the world to see. And when you want to share an Instagram post with a friend, you really have to go the extra mile and copy that link to drop in your iMessage conversation.

Alanna: I think what I’m drawn to, healthily or otherwise, is the endless feedback loop of posting, and getting faves and followers, and feeling validated and in on something, but that can cause a lot of fatigue. And when a photo doesn’t perform the way you expect it to (kill me!) or when the glow fades from a recent successful one (kill me twice!), you’re left feeling… cold. Not to mention the somewhat sinister nature of Facebook-owned apps in general; I’ve always kind of just assumed that all my data was being mined and sold, but even as my discomfort with that grows, I still feel fairly helpless in its thrall.

Maybe we should just throw our phones and computers into the East River?

Eliza: Let’s do it!!!!!! But my laptop is the property of Vox Media.

VR is where my fashion dreams can become reality

2016-10-13T12:23:02-04:00

A model at Iris Van Herpen’s fall 2016 haute couture show. Photo: Patrick Kovarick/Getty Images

When Oculus announced its new Oculus Avatars project last Thursday, I got a message from The Verge team asking if I wanted to write about it. I cover the vast world of clothing, not gadgets or gaming, but where there’s self-styling — and the Oculus team made it pretty clear that there’s plenty of room for that with its new avatars — there’s fashion.

Adi had it right when she said that these avatars are classy. A sketch of the human form is much more evocative than failed photorealism, and Oculus wisely limited its avatars to floating busts and hands rendered in luminous colors like red, gold, and a shifting purple-ish blue. They’re detailed enough to seem lifelike, but not so finely modeled that they’re creepy.

Because you can select your avatar’s face, color, hairstyle, eyewear, and outfit, the question at hand is where Oculus could take things, fashion-wise. Putting on clothes or styling your hair is always a matter of self-expression, but what would you do if you weren’t limited by budget, concerns about fit, or social anxiety? You would go for the $1,365 plaid Vetements shirt with football shoulders and detached sleeves that engulf your hands, is what you would do.

I’d recognize them, too, even if we looked nothing like our IRL selves

I would, at least. My face would also look a lot more like Tilda Swinton’s. The thing is, if my avatar was a Vetements-wearing Tilda and I was in a virtual space with a bunch of my friends and their avatars — “rooms” and “parties” being two of Oculus’ new social features — I’m pretty sure they’d know me on sight. I’d recognize them, too, even if we looked nothing like our IRL selves, simply because we understand each other’s aesthetic inclinations so well after years of gathering cues like favorite musicians, movies, and brands. Our tastes might manifest quietly in our everyday styling, but in VR, they could really bloom.

A model walks the runway in Iris Van Herpen’s glass bubble dress. (Kristy Sparow / Getty Images)" data-portal-copyright="" />

When I think of clothing I’d like to see translated to Oculus Avatars, the fashion nerd in me gets thirsty for the fantastic, totally unwearable garments that seem to exist only on the runway and in museums. (And sometimes, if someone like Björk is involved, on a stage or red carpet.) I’m talking about designers like Iris Van Herpen, a 32-year-old Dutch woman who works with techniques like laser cutting and 3D printing to create otherworldly shapes. You’ll never see Van Herpen’s delicate dress covered in thousands of silicone-coated, hand-blown glass bubbles out on the street, but in VR, the barrier to wearing it would be practically nil.

What winds up on the sales floor is not the experimental, but the easily digestible

A garment doesn’t have to be made of fragile materials for it to have a limited life in the real world. Designers tend to amp up the drama for their runway shows, meaning not everything that gets shown will actually get produced and sold at retail. What winds up on the sales floor is not the experimental, but the easily digestible. As The New Yorker wrote in its profile of the radical brand Hood By Air, “The runway pieces may have blown fashion critics’ minds, but it was the T-shirts that had changed the way people dressed.”

Models walk the runway at Hood By Air’s New York Fashion Week show in September. Note the shoes. (Frazer Harrison / Getty Images)" data-portal-copyright="" />

Hood By Air should take those runway pieces to VR, then. It’s safe to say that more than a few brands would be interested in exploring the possibilities of putting their designs on Oculus, if only for the sake of monetization or a media moment. Try Louis Vuitton: it cast Lightning from Final Fantasy in its spring / summer 2016 ad campaign, after all.

For what it’s worth, I’d gladly put my avatar in almost anything by Alexander McQueen, or in the haunting lace-and-pearl masks that the designer Riccardo Tisci has sent down Givenchy’s runway. For the style of Oculus Avatars, it seems sculptural pieces would work better than flowing or patterned garments; as digital creations, 3D-printed designs are practically made for the VR treatment.

A model backstage at Givenchy’s spring 2016 show. (Victor Virgile / Getty Images)" data-portal-copyright="" />

The tragic irony here is that for all the thrills of finally getting to (virtually) wear the clothing I’ve loved from afar, some of its detailing would probably get lost in translation. Would my Oculus companions even notice what my avatar is wearing? Let’s be honest, other people’s consideration plays a significant role in guiding our dressing decisions.

Create a landscape that’s brighter, stranger, and more fantastic than the one we actually live in

Maybe all those designers I mentioned should instead design new looks specifically for Oculus Avatars. Still a media moment, still monetizable, and possibly more exciting for fans. The whole point of high fashion — the clothes, the theatrical runway shows, the photo shoots that appear in magazines — is to make us dream, to create a landscape that’s brighter, stranger, and more fantastic than the one we actually live in. I can’t imagine anything more appropriate for the virtual world.

Eliza is a reporter at our sister publication Racked, where she writes about how and why people buy things.