upworthy

2000s

Mental Health

Woman discovers trick to instantly feel better about how you look in photos: 'ZOOM OUT I beg'

"I promise you’ll look back at those photos ... and see the bigger picture."

Canva Photos

25-year-old woman urges people to stop zooming in on photos.

Millennials in the early 2000s were really enjoying the perks of digital photos and cameras, which were relatively new at the time. I know, it's hard to imagine. We had small, physical cameras with memory cards that we'd carry around with us on a night out, even just to the bar. We would take photos all night—hundreds and hundreds of them. They were blurry, poorly lit, and candid. People were always making awkward faces in the background or being shown at unflattering angles.

We didn't care. We posted every single one of them to a Facebook album, tagged our friends, and let them live there permanently. Can you imagine?!

Things work a little differently now. Our online lives are a lot more curated. We don't post every photo we take, and in fact, all of us intuitively utilize a careful vetting process when we take group pictures or selfies. We snap the pic, or a few, and immediately go to look how it turned out. If it doesn't meet the standards of how we want ourselves to look in a public facing photo, it doesn't get posted. Worse, it might be deleted on the spot, the memory of that moment vanishing forever.

 body image, selfies, photography, photos, body positivity, self esteem, self worth, psychology, technology Take me back to when we hardly cared what we looked like in selfies.  Giphy  

25-year-old Emma-Kirsty Fraser has a theory on why we seem to be so much more selective, even flat out disgusted, with pictures of ourselves these days: It's the damn zoom.

In a recent Instagram reel, Fraser posted a photo of herself as the camera zoomed in the parts of her body she tends to over-examine in photos: Her arms, chin, midsection, and legs.

"Image the brainwashing required to get us to see this," she says as the camera bounces around to all the most self-critiqued parts of her body. "Instead of this!"

The camera then cuts to the full photo, of Fraser laughing and chatting with friends. It's a fun and beautiful moment, full of life. It captures a moment in time, friendship, love, and joy. No one in their right mind would see the photo and have any thoughts whatsoever about the shape of her chin or the size of her arms. But we've all been conditioned to hyper-analyze every pixel when it comes to our own body and how we think we come across in photos.

"ZOOM OUT I beg ... I think it’s quite terrifying when you realise how much brainwashing it took to get you to zoom in and criticise yourself in so much detail? Like if you showed 8 year old Emma a photo of herself there’s no way she would zoom in," Fraser captioned the post.

"There is so much more to life than the way your body looks and I promise you’ll look back at those photos (because you’re not going to delete them anymore!!!) and see the bigger picture, not your skin/body/blemishes."

Believe it or not, "pinch zooming" in on photos is a relatively new phenomenon that cropped up within the last 20 years.

Most experts credit (or blame, depending on your point of view) the iPhone with innovating and popularizing the feature around 2007. In a few years, it was available on Android phones as well. It didn't take long from there for us to ditch our Nikon Coolpix cameras and start exclusively taking photographs on our phones, quickly learning that we could spot and delete our double-chin moments before anyone saw them.

(Smartphones with cameras officially overtook digital cameras around 2007 but didn't become completely ubiquitous until about 2012-2013.)

The world, and our body image, was never the same.

 body image, selfies, photography, photos, body positivity, self esteem, self worth, psychology, technology Resist the urge to zoom in on your most sensitive features.  Photo by Antoine Beauvillain on Unsplash  

Fraser's post went viral, racking up 30,000 Likes on Instagram and over three million views.

Commenters were so grateful for the message they so desperately needed to hear:

"the fact i saw this picture and ONLY thought about how it was such a beautiful candid & captured your vibe perfectly"

"At first ... I saw nothing wrong with her. But if this was a photo of ME, tell why would I suddenly see all the flaws?"

"At first, I thought we were talking about the tattoos, the accessories, etc. because I saw nothing wrong with her. But if this was a photo of ME, tell why would I suddenly see all the flaws?"

"I'm 41, I still really REALLY struggle with this, I zoom in on every photo and criticise every flaw and a "bad" photo can bring down my body image for days. But I've started refusing to delete and coming back to photos after a day or so and slowly I'm learning to realise they often aren't as "bad" as my initial reaction would suggest."

"I struggled to see what you were talking about but then I imagined if it was me and I could see what might be perceived as issues. Kinda sad."

Fraser's words really struck a nerve, and she managed to capture a feeling and phenomenon that we all intuitively understand but rarely talk about.

When we look at photos of others, we see the big picture. We see their smile and the emotion of the photo, we take in the moment. We don't nitpick. So why do we do it to ourselves?

Body image and pressure to look "perfect" is about as bad, or worse, than its ever been—in part because the online world is so heavily curated. Real people are quieter and harder to find on social media, and instead we see more and more perfect-looking influencers and celebrities. Photos are easy to edit, touch up, or apply filters to. The real, blurry, awkward photos of the early 2000s are gone and probably never coming back.

But we can fight back in one very simple way. Just zoom out. Don't inspect your belly, your smile, or whatever your perceived flaws are. Enjoy the picture for what it is, a snapshot of a moment in time. Try to view it like a stranger would. And, for the love of God, don't be so quick to delete the memories that you can't get back.

Humor

Millennial woman relives the 'going out' routine of the early 2000s and it's so accurate

From the pregame to the quest for drunk food, every millennial lived this.

Not sure if we actually want to go back to this.

Millennials, are you ready to go back in time to the days of throwing on super low-rise jeans and hitting the clubs (after a few pregame “cocktails,” aka Red Bull and Vodka) on any given weekend? Buckle up, the nostalgia is about to get so good.

Recently fellow millennial Jenna Barclay, whose social media bread and butter is all things nostalgic, had wondered aloud if Gen Zers still “went out” the way our generation once did, because, as she recalled, “when I was in college in the 2000s, going out was huge.” Just what did a typical night of “going out” look like as a millennial? Let Barclay paint a picture with flawless accuracy.

First, there’s the frequency. As Barclay explained, “Our whole week revolved around going out Thursday through Saturday. There's a whole ritual around it.” yup, that check outs.

Then there are the “phases” of a night out, with Phase 1 of course being “getting ready.”


 
 @jennaabarclay I did this every weekend for 4 solid years and kids today just want to sit and look at their phones???? #2000s ♬ original sound - Jenna Barclay 
 
 

“You would haul all of your cheap Forever 21, going-out outfit options over to your friend's crappy off-campus apartment. And you would get ready together while you drank Francia, or maybe whatever beer you had leftover from the weekend before, like, Keystone Light or Natty Ice. Maybe if somebody just got paid and you were feeling fancy, you had some liquor, like some UV blue that you would mix with soda inside a plastic cup from a gas station with a straw,” she said. Wow, it’s like she lived my life!

After getting ready, would come the “pregame” phase, which “was the first official stop of the night,” where the one and only mission would be to “get as drunk as humanly possible before you went to the main event of the evening.” This would normally be accomplished by a variety of drinking games, such as King’s Cup, Ride the Bus, Presidents and A**holes, etc.


Around 10 or 11 pm (when millennials today are in PJs and watching Love is Blind on Netflix) would be the actual going out phase. And if you’ve done your pregame ritual correctly, this would be when chaos sets in.

“When you were all sufficiently wasted, you would all decide it was time to go to the party. And by this point, you're blackout, basically. I mean, you've taken half a bottle of UV to the face and like drank seven Keystone Light, like you're gone. So, you don't wear a jacket. You're always severely underdressed for the weather. You're probably wearing some super cheap high heels from Charlotte Russe that are probably gonna break, and you go teetering across your crappy college town to some other crappy off-campus house where you mostly just stand in one spot,” said Barclay.

Finally, we have the final (and arguably most fun!) phase of the night: the drunken fast food run. “Taco Bell, Taco Cabana, Watta-Burger, Little Caesars, whatever. It didn't matter as long as you secured the food. And then you'd usually go back to the original spot, the place where you got ready with that group of people. You would eat your food and then you would pass out.” Not gonna lie, this is a phase I haven’t grown out of just yet.

But wait, the event isn’t technically over! Because there’s a lot the morning after phase, in which you and your friend would have to figure out what the heck happened during your night of debauchery.


Keep in mind, kids, that we didn’t have the same modern day conveniences as we do today. So finding out this valuable intel would require, as Barclay explained, “fishing out your digital camera, which you took with you to every stop the night before.”

“And you would hardwire that bad boy to your big, pink, clunky Dell laptop, and you would sit there for like three hours while all 465 pictures that you took the night before uploaded onto the computer. And then you would put them in a public Facebook album that you would call something like, ‘Nights We’ll Never Remember with People We’ll Never Forget.’ And then you would individually caption every single one of the pictures with something like, I don't know, ‘LOL, drunk.’ And then as the cherry on top, you would tag all of your friends in all of these pictures, the worst, the most unflattering photos that have been taken of any human since the dawn of the world. You would tag them in every single one. And then we would just repeat this all the next night.”

Ah. good time. Good times, indeed.

Unsurprisingly, millennials were quick to pounce on this video, and relive their youth a bit.

“Can we talk about how we played beer pong with beer actually IN the cup?! Chugging grass, dirt and all!” one person wrote, while another commented, “To ThE nIgHtS wE wOnT rEmEmBer 😂😂😂😂 literally titled like this. I literally had to go through my fb and untag myself from so many of these albums.”

Still another recalled that “being chosen as the ‘get ready’ house was such an honor.”

A few chimed in to debate which phase of the night was actually the best part. One person argued that “The pregame was always more fun than the actual party,” while another claimed “the group hangover couch rot the next day watching MTV was the best part.”

As far as whether or not Gen Zers enjoy going out the same way millennials did…I think we all know that times have changed. Blame it on coming of age during a pandemic, a rising interest in sobriety, having less disposable income, you name it…by and large, Gen Zers are more likely to host apartment game nights than actually going out. That said, there does seem to be a growing interest in nightlife. And the cool thing is, there’s infinitely more curated options available today, even plenty of clubs that cater to the sober curious. So folks today can have a night out of fun in perhaps healthier ways.

However, according to some Gen Zer’s the comment section of Barclays’ video, some of these questionable traditions live on.

“As a gen z in college at a SEC school trust we do the exact same thing except we go to bars after pre games (we play the same games as yall lol)” one youngster wrote.

Another said, “happy to report i did do this in college, from 2019-2023 :)❤️”

Some habits die hard. Clearly.

Pop Culture

Unearthed clip shows a joyous MGMT performing one of the decade's biggest hits for a tiny audience

There are only a handful of people in the crowd but they are having the time of their lives.

@steeelo7/TikTok, Rad Scientist/Youtube

All the greats come from small beginnings.

Every generation has songs that help define the era. And without question, MGMT’s synthy, upbeat pop jam “Kids” helped define the early 2000s. Its playful irreverence matched the sort of unbounded optimism felt in a time just before the internet—and all its consequences—would change the world forever.

And this is why people are giddy over finding an unearthed clip of MGMT playing the hit song before it became a hit. It’s taking them right back to that simpler pre-internet time.

In the clip, which has been making the rounds across Reddit and Instagram, we see two goofy college aged dudes (Andrew VanWyngarden and Ben Goldwasser, respectively) circa 2003 and having the time of their lives while playing the catchy tune for one of the first times, if not the first time ever.

Zero pretense, zero phones. Just good vibes.

- YouTubewww.youtube.com

Besides just having a revived appreciation for the band, people were really yearning for a time when cell phones didn’t dominate shared social experiences.

“This video represents the essence of life. Being in the moment, having fun and not taking yourself too seriously,” one person wrote on Instagram.

Another said, “The way I'd do anything to go back and appreciate the early 2000s more is insane.”

Another noted “This slapped me right across the face with memories I no longer thought I had.”

As any MGMT fan will tell you, fun was always the name of the game for VanWyngarden and Ben Goldwasser. While trying to balance out the rigidity of their formal music studies, Goldwasser sought to “write the most stupid song possible,” he told the Times.Never did he imagine that it would end up catapulting their careers.

“One moment we were being irreverent with the academic world, the next we were playing festivals, and I don’t think we understood the implications of that,” VanWyndgarden said. “On college campus we were happy to play out rock star fantasies in front of 15 people. All of a sudden we’re on Late Night with David Letterman and we’re thinking: we can’t do this any more. We were becoming the things we were making fun of.”

Even if the lyrics to "Kids" was written as a sort of parody, they do inadvertently express the pain of wanting to hold onto innocence, while, due to being human and the laws of time and whatnot, simply cannot. This universal message lying underneath its catchy hooks is what gave the song a lightning-in-a-bottle quality in the first place, and it's what makes it so impactful many years later.

We might never be able to truly go back in time, but being able to at least tap back into those bygone feelings—be it through long lost footage, forgotten mementos, or just by listening to a once beloved tune—is a pretty sweet consultation prize.

Alien Ant Farm's "Smooth Criminal" cover still rocks.

When Micheal Jackson released "Smooth Criminal" in 1988, I was a 13-year-old named Annie. As you can imagine, the "Annie, are you okay?" jokes came fast and furious, and they haven't let up much in the three and a half decades since.

It's all good. Those jokes gave me a respite from the "Annie get your gun" and "little orphan Annie" ones, and besides, it's a great song. It wasn't Jackson's biggest hit, but it was always my favorite, and not just because it bore my name. The music video—a nine-minute, dance-heavy mini-movie set in the 1930s gangster era—made it even better.

But apparently, mentioning "Smooth Criminal" or "Annie, are you okay?" to the younger folks doesn't conjure up the zoot suits and dimly lit speakeasy images it does for me. For them, it brings up images of an alternative rock punk band playing in a … boxing ring?


In 2001, a band called Alien Ant Farm did an alternative/punk cover of "Smooth Criminal" that has repeatedly gone viral since then. In fact, it went viral in June 2022 and then again this week, when Lindz McLeod on Twitter asked if anyone would recognize the lyrics, "Annie are you okay, are you okay, Annie?" without looking them up. (Ahem.) Some people, seriously or jokingly, pointed to the Alien Ant Farm cover as the source.

The Alien Ant Farm "Smooth Criminal" video is actually an homage to Michael Jackson, though the folks that didn't grow up in the MJ era may miss many of the small details that point to him. Watch and see how many Michael Jackson references you can find:

The kid dancing while wearing a mask has a whole different feel now than it did when the video came out, for sure. Seems downright prescient, in hindsight.

The masked kid was the one part of the Alien Ant Farm video that Michael Jackson himself took issue with at first. (Michael Jackson would often wear a face mask in public, long before it became a pandemic habit.) The band shared that story in an interview with Los Angeles Times:

"When you asked if we had any reservations of how it would be received, the only person we were mindful of was Michael Jackson himself. We were kind of worried. We sent the video to MJ to get his nod of approval. And he commented back that he didn’t really dig the kid with the mask. I think MJ wore that mask because of all of his failed surgeries. We were like, 'Oh s—, maybe we should remove it.' We were already on tour. But a few weeks later, the director of the video [Marc Klasfeld] went to the same street, got a bunch of the extras together and reshot the dancing kid without the mask. We went through quite a bit of money and bulls— to make sure that we were appeasing Michael Jackson. We sent it back to him a few weeks later with the kid with no mask and he said, 'You know what? I like it better with the mask!'"

The Alien Ant Farm "Smooth Criminal" video has racked up a whopping 257 million views on YouTube alone since it was shared in 2009. People say it's a perfect representation of the early 2000s, both the sound and the visuals.

Some people have also said they prefer the Alien Ant Farm version to the original, which feels a bit blasphemous, but whatever. It's a great cover—the band did an admirable job of keeping the overall elements of the original while adding their own sound to it—but there's just nothing like Michael Jackson's original. Enjoy: