In contrast to popular social media platforms like Instagram or TikTok, Pinterest presents as a less threatening alternative. Posting a picture of your own on Pinterest is not likely to prompt an influx of likes, nor hundreds of comments praising your beauty or affirming your status as a cherished member of your community. Though you can like and comment on Pinterest, these actions do not hold the same weight as they seem to on other platforms.
There is a certain level of comforting anonymity to Pinterest—though you can connect with and follow your friends, as well as collaborate on boards together—most of the time you are not posting images of your own. The majority of photos on Pinterest are of beautiful places, objects, or celebrities and internet personalities. The general idea of the app is embedded in its name, a clever portmanteau that encourages you to “pin your interests,” and add them to your own boards.
As a more palpable way of daydreaming (an activity I find myself engaging in more than I’d like), Pinterest has allowed me to explore my wants and dreams visually, in the form of little organized images. When I open the app, a Carrie Bradshaw-esque pair of vintage Manolo Blahnik kitten heels, a screenshot of nepo baby Lila Moss applying mascara in her Vogue Beauty Secrets video, and a bright blue Goyard bag slung over the shoulder of an impeccably stylish blonde all jump out at me from different grids on my Pinterest home feed. As a long-time sucker for fashion, pop culture, and splashy digital media, Pinterest provides me with a space that both validates my interests and allows me to delve deeper into them.
The app has pushed me toward seeing things I didn’t even know I wanted; however, sometimes I wonder if I may have been better off before seeing them. Users have the ability to click on links posted below the images, often bringing them to fashion resale sites or other digital marketplaces. Suddenly, that photo you saw as a simple inspiration for what clothes you want to wear, or what kind of vintage lamp you want to put on your bedside table, is now a tangible item that you yourself could purchase.
I’ve often opened Pinterest in search of a quick and mindless scroll, or a way to kill time, maybe at the airport, or waiting for my professor to show up at class. More alarmingly, I’ve often closed the app, deciding it is absolutely necessary to find and seek out a replica of the sunglasses Sharon Tate was wearing at Heathrow Airport, shortly before leaving to attend the premiere of Rosemary’s Baby. I don’t need these glasses at all, nor is it likely I would wear them, but the power of Pinterest, I have found, is that it is frighteningly easy for a simple inspo pic to turn into something I think that I need.
After trying to unpack why I feel I need these things, I at first chalked it up to the fact that I have goals for who I want to be, and how I want to present. This seems normal enough, as everyone tends to have these kinds of thoughts. Although having aspirations for what you want out of life is not only healthy, but oftentimes recommended, I then had to confront the truth that Pinterest sometimes makes me feel like I am in constant need of an “upgrade.” I almost feel as if the images I see on my home feed are what I need to have, or what I need to become, in order to be happy with myself.
After discussing these thoughts with a few friends, I understood that I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. They explained to me that they too have wound up feeling stressed out by the, “aesthetic pressures” of Pinterest, prompting them to cease to use the app, or even its deletion altogether. One friend told me she felt that by using the app, her compulsion to buy clothes and accessories skyrocketed, and another friend mentioned that she never feels “cool enough,” after scrolling through thousands of photos of up-and-coming “it girls.”
Naturally, one could argue that engaging with any kind of digital media platform puts you at risk for costly temptations and self-esteem issues. Nevertheless, it is always surprising to learn that even innocently appearing apps like Pinterest, could be contributing to one’s feelings of inadequacy, and therefore, a desire to fill said void with products and other “toxic” ideas for so-called self-improvement. The surprise comes from the fact that Pinterest has been marketed to us as a pure source for creativity, organization, and self-discovery.
The movement against buying into unrealistic beauty standards on Instagram, Tiktok, and similar platforms has been circulating for a few years now, with some creators and news platforms emphasizing the importance of maintaining a healthy self image outside of the influence of rich and beautiful internet personalities. But it may be time to extend such recommendations to Pinterest. Reminding yourself that your self-worth is not built upon your ability to have a “Pinterest girl aesthetic,” or your possession of the newest trending styles or makeup products, can help reframe Pinterest back into what it should be—a space for you to explore your interests and structure your goals and aspirations in an enjoyable way.
It is important to acknowledge however that this is entirely easier said than done. Willing yourself to change the way you think, and cut out these negative and self deprecating thoughts, is something that will take conscious effort. Ask yourself these questions: Is this something that I would care about had I not seen it five seconds ago? Would I truly be devastated about the loss of this product if I forgot about it in an hour? Do I truly like this item or style, or does it just look appealing on the model? Is this the kind of lifestyle that would make me happy, or is it just being cleverly marketed to me in this photo? Thinking about these things could aid you in reevaluating your desires, and if they are truly intrinsic to your beliefs, rather than just being fed to you in an appealing way.
Media apps like Pinterest, are tricky in this way. I don’t say all this in an effort to encourage you to write Pinterest off. Saying so would in fact be entirely inauthentic to who I am, as it does happen to be my most used app, clocking in with a usage time of about one hour and thirty-two minutes per day, on average. All of this is just to caution you to be mindful of how you choose to consume your media. Social media is what you make of it, and although plugging your ears to their temptingly toxic noise can be difficult, if gaining new ideas, inspirations, and simply enjoying beautiful things is something you love, I encourage you to keep using them—but now hopefully with a slightly more perceptive eye.