Sharp tongue

What my digital detox taught me (or not…)

20 January 2019 | Posted by Zackary

After more than three months of absence, it is time to explain my sudden disappearance from the Internet. It all started on a fall Wednesday like so many others. After a long day of work, I join my super girlfriends Anaïs and Euxane for a drink “at the bar near the gym” — some people lift weights, we prefer to raise our elbows. I start the talk by complaining about my professional situation, we go on to the juicy details of our sex lives, talk about neighbourhood problems, boyfriends problems….. In short, the evening runs its course (of white wine).

Several bottles later, while the terrace is already empty, we decide to go home. If my drinking buddies opt for the Uber option, taken by a frenzy of saving money on bits and pieces, I decide to turn to the good old subway.

Spiritual — and unknown — heir to Kate Moss, music in my ears, I walk through Republic’s underground labyrinth as if I were on a runway or shooting a video clip. Graceful, powerful, head high and back straight, I take the escalator when suddenly… I find myself crushed on the steps. I couldn’t tell you if my shoelaces were untied, if my big soles tripped me or if I took the escalator in the wrong direction. All I remember is my laying inert body, pulled up by the mechanical movement…

The worst part? Because of the pain, I eventually had to call an Uber.



In the end, my whim brings me six weeks of immobilization, during which I clearly depend on my roommates. In the middle of a The Intouchables remake, I receive a letter from the Treasury: say hello to money problems.

Add to that the work problems I was complaining about before falling, a bunch of personal issues — you definitely don’t choose your family — and that’s it. Crippled, broke, in debt, depressed… I need a break. So I leave my computer in a corner of my room, barely touch my phone. As the Instagirls would say, I start a digital detox.

I know, I know: there is a real paradox in talking about such a subject on an online media. Nevertheless, I would like to share with you the lessons of my social hibernation. Find out what these bloggers never tell you….

Pointless binge-watching

Naturally, you will want to watch TV, while meticulously avoiding the news. Regressive pleasure, you will even spend the afternoon in front of yet another rerun of The Nanny, before realizing that they will broadcast the same episodes the day after. Very quickly, you will realize the mediocrity of TV programs, especially during daytime.

Disappointed, you will migrate to Netflix and Prime Video, from which you will run through interesting options in two weeks. For the first time in a while, you will open a book, and will ask yourself if it is not time to cancel your various subscriptions. By the way, if it’s not too late, don’t watch Bird Box: it’s two hours of your life that you’ll never get back.

Cast away

Less phone means less calls, less texting and less Facebook events. You might as well prepare yourself, you’ll see less of your buddies. Everyone who claims “my real friends will come to me” is wrong: your friends are like you, they are lazy. Without these little occasions when you are used to meeting, you will feel more lonely. It’s not depressing, it’s just mathematical.

Put an end to your Fear of Missing Out, a modern malaise better known as FOMO: you will indeed be left out, there is no point in torturing yourself. You will end up talking to your Ukrainian neighbour more often than to your best friend. Fortunately, I live with mine.

“Didn’t you get a little fat?”

Boredom implies snacking. It’s a law of nature. You will come to appreciate the muffled noise of the refrigerator door seal, which you will play like a musical instrument.

You will experiment the worst Tastemade ever gave, you will spit on the French heritage of gastronomy and will eat mountains of sugar and fat. Given your almost lethargic physical condition, sport is not even an option. All you have to do now is pray for good genes, or stick pictures of yourself in your underwear on the fridge.

Smoke weed everyday

As a consequence of the previous point, you will smoke a lot. Probably more than usual. Actually, you’ll call your dealer more than your poor mother. If you are lucky, he will even take pity on you and offer you a sample of his latest varieties.

A word of advice: invest in a Diptych candle — or a Febreze spray gun, depending on your budget — and always leave a window open if you want to avoid a surprise visit from the condominium.

Thou shalt not fuck

A violent truth that strikes you like a 3.5 ton at 100 mph: your libido will drop inexorably until it reaches the level of the Mariana Trench. Without TinderAdoptAGuyHappnGrindr-the-ugly-creep-sitting-at-the-bar, you will become aware of the emptiness of your sex life.

In any case, don’t let your hair regain its rights and continue to plead allegiance to Veet. You never know when the situation could unbock. Be prepared for any eventuality.

Then will come the day you’ll finally meet your reflection in a mirror, and realize that you have more brown hair than platinum — if you are asked, blond is my natural color. Frightened, you will have no choice but to put yourself together and return to the real world.

For the record, I saw Anaïs and Euxane again last week. First Chardonnay-evening since my infamous fall. As a personal revenge, a challenge that I owed to myself, I went home taking on the subway. Results? Zackary 1 – 0 Escalator. •

Hugh Hefner's and Donatella Versace's love child, I am the visible half of the duo behind ZACKARIUM. Addicted to fashion and to Lucky Strike, my mission is to guide you smoothly through the jungle of brands and catwalks.

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