Trap Phone. Burner Phone. Brick phone…. They’re back.

By: Vaughan Ollier

This week I picked up my brand new Nokia.

Midnight blue, with space for two SIM cards and no reason to scroll. Writer, Model - random hobby picker-upper - I’m clearly not Nokia’s target market of drug dealer or criminal… or am I?

By: Mika Baumeister

Recently, I’ve been completely overwhelmed and, honestly, disheartened by social media… Most particularly Instagram. It used to be my favorite place. A safe place strangely posting even before my long , somehow 11 year ?!? modelling career, a place where I would post pictures, try to make funny reels and share stories. Weirdly it felt bizarrely personal joining in 2013 when I was only 13.. Now the algorithm feels more aggressive than ever, and every time I open the app I’m met with an endless carousel of ads. I rarely see friends’ work anymore - just sponsored posts, random reels, and products I don’t want. 

So, I switched to a  “dumb” phone. A phone purely for calls, texts, and what turns out to be - the most delectable little Y2K camera. I LOVE it.

And while I haven’t given up my iPhone entirely, leaving it at home feels strangely liberating. Less naked. Like I’m cheating on my phone… but in the best possible way.

And I’m not alone. Around the world, people are ditching their smartphones for so-called dumb phones, the sleek new Nokias, pastel flip phones, and vintage Motorolas resurrected from eBay…. What started as Y2K nostalgia has become something closer to resistance: a quiet rebellion against Big Tech’s dopamine trap. My way to opt out of the algorithm, even just for a little while.

Gen Z calls them trap phones or digital detox devices, but really, they’re tools for self-preservation. Influencers like Dove Cameron and actors like Camila Mendes have publicly switched to flip phones to “save their sanity.” Pop culture YouTuber Shawna Ripani recently unpacked the phenomenon in her retrospective on the rise of dumb phones, linking the trend to burnout, overstimulation, and the growing desire to feel offline again. “Smartphones made everyone feel entitled to access you,” says Tiktoker Sterling Quinn. “With a dumb phone, you reclaim that boundary,  you stop performing for the feed and start living for yourself again.”

Meanwhile, YouTuber SakuraOpal calls her flip phone “a Y2K anime dream”.  Describing it as, part mental health savior and art object. In a world where every ping demands a response, the burner phone has become both a shield and symbol: proof that peace of mind might just fit in the palm of your hand. “If you take a picture, then it didn’t happen,” says TikToker Sterling Quinn. “Because the second you reach for your camera, you’ve already left the moment. A dumb phone lets you stay, in the scene, in your body, in real life.”

And I relate. I can barely look at my phone without accidentally scrolling for fifteen or twenty minutes at a time. People talk about the importance of boredom — how it sparks creativity, ideas, and new connections,  but lately, I’ve found myself bored of my phone. Nothing feels intriguing anymore. In a strange way, this boredom has pushed me back to pen and paper, to something tactile and real.

No one’s giving up technology entirely… This movement isn’t about rejection, it’s about redefinition. About making space to be offline. TikTokers film themselves taking blurry mirror selfies on pixelated lenses. Maybe it’s not about disconnecting completely, but remembering what it felt like to not be watched, tracked, or constantly performing. To enjoy quiet moments again. So a return to nostalgia, yes… But maybe, just maybe, a return to being.

https://www.tiktok.com/@quinnofnewyork?lang=en

Sterling Quinn Tiktok

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T3ocHn-5-vw

Why I switched back to a flip phone (as a gen z) 🔅

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4x_p3lzNFLk

dumb phones: is tiktok trying to buy its way out of phone addiction?