Ode to my iPhone (published on Polyester Dollhouse)
How having my iPhone pickpocketed released my inner Cyborg.
In 2004 at the age of ten, I was gifted my first mobile phone, the Siemens A51. It had a curved silhouette with a light-up keypad and I begged my parents intermittently to buy me £10 credit top-ups so I could excitedly text my friends. I owned many phones over the years, mostly second-hand and majoritively clunky with stickers all over them. I distinctly remember the panicked feeling of accidentally clicking on the ‘Wireless Application Protocol’ button, subsequently seeing the loading symbol and frantically pressing BACK to refrain from browsing the costly and elusive internet. Upon finally getting my Nokia 6300 at the age of 13, I channelled my main character energy and spend hours with the phone propped up on my desk recording various performances.
During my early teenage years, following a brief rivalry between Blackberry and iPhone, the latter unequivocally won. iPhone’s revolutionary technology and its innovative functions irreversibly altered the way we communicated. Humanity went from messaging and calling each other sparingly to being socially plugged in across multiple platforms with constant accessibility to a wealth of information, unbound by geographical restrictions. Notably, iPhones became a material representation of so many things - a fashion statement, a symbol of privilege, and the various models evidenced the gap between classes. Today, of course, we are now fully accustomed to smartphones being used for everything from communication, work, socialising, relaxation, dating, learning, etc. As well as the obvious connection to friends and family, I use my phone for entertainment, a quick and convenient Google search, checking when my period is due, paying for things, measuring how far I’ve walked and so much more. With capabilities I could never have dreamed of when I first held that Siemens phone in my hand at the age of 10, mobile technology is inevitably entangled in our daily lives.