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why are extremely online men so hot? (vogue)

When you like someone new, there is a clear set of next step...
merry screenmas
  12/08/25


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Date: December 8th, 2025 2:35 PM
Author: merry screenmas

When you like someone new, there is a clear set of next steps. First, you check if they’re single. Then you google them to rule out any public scandals and/or criminal convictions. Finally, it’s time to look them up on Instagram. It’s here where you’ll make the harshest judgements about who this person is and whether or not they’re right for you.

You’ll find profound meaning in every last detail, from the people who frequently feature in their tagged photos and how many models they follow to which filters they favor and whether or not they post Reels. Lately, though, the best thing you can find is nothing at all. That’s right, I’m talking about people who don’t use Instagram—and why they’re objectively hotter than those of us who do.

It’s a theory I’ve held for a while now, one that has only grown in strength alongside my own social media presence, which I’m fully aware is entirely hypocritical. But bear with me. As someone who relies on Instagram for work, I have a strange relationship with it. One part of me enjoys sharing the highlights of my life and career, as well as posting the occasional bikini photo for a quick burst of validation. Every heart and comment comes with the fizz of excitement and possibility: people like you. They’re interested in you. Some of them might even want to fuck you.

The other part of me feels disgusted by the vanity of it all. It’s gross to be so consumed by how you’re being perceived; even if what you’re sharing has nothing to do with you, every post comes with a pang of self-hatred and insecurity. What message am I conveying? How will it impact my “personal brand”? Does it really mean anything, anyway?

So, yes, I tend to be attracted to people who aren’t consumed by the same internal tussle as me. If you have a private account you barely post to, it’s an immediate green flag. Likewise a public account with two or three photos and an outdated bio about something that happened in 2015. Better yet, there’s no profile at all. It’s an indication of confidence and self-assurance, qualities that the salaries of wealthy executives in Silicon Valley are predicated on eroding.

“I love the elusive element of no socials,” said one person when I asked my Instagram followers—yes, I’m aware of the irony here—if they preferred partners who didn’t have the platform. “The whole element of ‘I don’t care about what others think or how I’m perceived’ is sexy,” another concurred. “I think it can suggest a need for external validation and low confidence if they’re super active on there,” one person added. “It’s def a green flag (unless they’re hiding a wife),” chimed a third.

https://www.vogue.com/article/why-do-extremely-online-men-give-women-the-ick

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5807950&forum_id=2в#49494232)