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Apple Ecosystem For The ‘If You Have The Means, Darling’ Types

Niamat Dhillon Student Contributor, Manipal University Jaipur
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at MUJ chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.

A satirical ode to the rich auntie energy of owning the Apple Ecosystem: iPhone, MacBook, iPad and AirPods (all colour-coordinated, obviously.)

I’ll be honest, if you’ve ever seen me take notes on my iPad while my MacBook Air plays Spotify, AirPods in, iPhone buzzing, you probably thought, “wow, she must have her life together.” Plot twist: I do not. But thanks to the Apple Ecosystem, I look like I do, and that’s half the game, darling.

Owning Apple products is basically personality cosplay. You don’t just buy an iPhone, you buy green bubble supremacy. You don’t just get an iPad, you get to smugly say, “Yeah, I use a digital planner,” as if that’s not just a glorified Notes app with commitment issues. Apple Pencil superiority? Please. I don’t even own the real one. Mine is an Amazon knock-off, and yet I still hold it like it’s Excalibur.

So yes, this is satire, but it’s also a confession: I have the Apple Ecosystem, and I would never go back. It makes everyday life dangerously easy to exist in, and I’m convinced Apple is my most toxic relationship, and also my longest.

Green bubbles are for peasants.

The emotional damage of seeing a message turn green should be studied in psychology journals. The group chat shifts, the vibes die, memes refuse to load. Suddenly, you’re that friend holding everyone hostage because your phone doesn’t support reactions. I’ve been there. iMessage has created an invisible caste system, and now I, shamelessly, am on the winning side.

It’s not about Android being bad (OK, maybe a little), but about Apple training us to believe blue = trust fund, green = broke bestie who refuses to assimilate. And don’t get me started on FaceTime invites. If you can’t click one, everyone’s already questioning your life choices.

Notes app is my therapist.

We don’t talk enough about the psychological bond between the Notes app and the soul. I have full novels living in mine. From “100 reasons why I’m annoyed at someone” to “possible baby names (or characters for a novel I haven’t started writing),” everything lives there.

Therapists: expensive. Notes app: free and there for me at 3 a.m. when my friends are asleep. Also, the chaos of writing something unhinged in Notes, then copy-pasting it into a text at 1% battery, is peak modern romance. If Freud were alive today, he wouldn’t ask for your dreams, he’d demand screenshots of your Notes.

The fake Apple Pencil supremacy.

Look, I’m all for investing in gadgets that make your life easier. But when I saw the price tag on the real Apple Pencil, I immediately closed my eyes and whispered, “not today, Satan.” So yes, my stylus is fake. Do I care? Not a bit.

It writes. It doodles. It makes me look like a mysterious design student in cafés. People don’t know it’s fake unless I tell them (which I absolutely do, because nothing is funnier than flexing on capitalism by refusing to participate). It’s one corner I cut in this whole ecosystem, and honestly? That’s the elder-sister advice here: don’t waste your coins where it doesn’t matter. Fake it till you make it, literally.

And no, I do not own an Apple Watch. I cannot justify spending that much money to be bullied into “standing up.” Bestie, I already have back pain. Leave me alone. My boAt smart watch is enough for me.

The apple ecosystem’s cult of convenience.

This is where Apple actually wins. Everything syncs like dark magic. My Safari tabs are linked across devices, my photos appear everywhere, my AirPods bounce seamlessly between calls and music. I can AirDrop memes in class faster than people can open WhatsApp.

But this cult of convenience has a dark side: dependency. When one gadget dies, I spiral. When iCloud runs out of space, I feel like I’ve lost a child. Apple makes you lazy, then traps you forever. It’s like a relationship where your toxic ex cooks really good pasta: you know it’s bad for you, but you can’t leave.

Final thoughts before my MacBook dies.

If you have the means, darling, the Apple Ecosystem is worth it. It’s the rich auntie starter pack, the modern-day talisman of productivity, the accessory that makes you look 10% smarter than you actually are.

But hear me out: it’s not worth going broke over. Spend on the pieces that matter (iPhone, MacBook), skip the unnecessary guilt-trippers (hi, Apple Watch), and embrace the dupe life (fake Apple Pencil for the win). Because at the end of the day, your worth isn’t measured in blue bubbles or aluminium finishes.

Still… once you’ve tasted the forbidden fruit, you’ll never look back. And maybe that’s the real bite of the Apple.
Want more blue-bubble superiority, fake-pencil confessions, and campus chaos? Bite into Her Campus at MUJ, it’s the juiciest forbidden fruit. And if you’re wondering who’s the girl scribbling in Notes like it’s scripture, that’s me, Niamat Dhillon at HCMUJ.

"No pessimist ever discovered the secrets of the stars, or sailed to an uncharted land, or opened a new heaven to the human spirit."

Niamat Dhillon is the President of Her Campus at Manipal University Jaipur, where she oversees the chapter's operations across editorial, creative, events, public relations, media, and content creation. She’s been with the team since her freshman year and has worked her way through every vertical — from leading flagship events and coordinating brand collaborations to hosting team-wide brainstorming nights that somehow end in both strategy decks and Spotify playlists. She specialises in building community-led campaigns that blend storytelling, culture, and campus chaos in the best way possible.

Currently pursuing a B.Tech. in Computer Science and Engineering with a specialisation in Data Science, Niamat balances the world of algorithms with aesthetic grids. Her work has appeared in independent magazines and anthologies, and she has previously served as the Senior Events Director, Social Media Director, Creative Director, and Chapter Editor at Her Campus at MUJ. She’s led multi-platform launches, cross-vertical campaigns, and content strategies with her signature poetic tone, strategic thinking, and spreadsheet obsession. She’s also the founder and editor of an indie student magazine that explores identity, femininity, and digital storytelling through a Gen Z lens.

Outside Her Campus, Niamat is powered by music, caffeine, and a dangerously high dose of delusional optimism. She responds best to playlists, plans spontaneous city trips like side quests, and has a scuba diving license on her vision board with alarming priority. She’s known for sending chaotic 3am updates with way too many exclamation marks, quoting lyrics mid-sentence, and passionately defending her font choices, she brings warmth, wit, and a bit of glitter to every team she's part of.

Niamat is someone who believes deeply in people. In potential. In the power of words and the importance of safe, creative spaces. To her, Her Campus isn’t just a platform — it’s a legacy of collaboration, care, and community. And she’s here to make sure you feel like you belong to something bigger than yourself. She’ll hype you up. Hold your hand. Fix your alignment issues on Canva. And remind you that sometimes, all it takes is a little delulu and a lot of heart to build something magical. If you’re looking for a second braincell, a hype session, or a last-minute problem-solver, she’s your girl. Always.