Speeding up,slowing down,losing grip: On digital media metronomes and timespace friction in the platformised temporalities of fashion design

Abstract

The body of literature addressing platform capitalism, platform labour and platform urbanism paints a compelling picture of how digital platforms shape the dynamics of both leisure and labour within the framework of the platform’s model for extracting value. However, this literature rarely captures how the global timespaces of digital platforms are translated in platform-mediated fields of work and which frictions occur in this process. Therefore, the contrasts between the rhythms of the platform prompting users towards instantaneous data production and the production capabilities of the humans, whose daily (work) life has become dependent on such platforms, remain largely unexplored. In this article, I develop the lens of timespace friction, by integrating the existing research on platform labour with a timespace perspective. The aim is to present a framework that reveals the contrasting relationship between the conflating rhythms of platform capitalism and platform-mediated labour. The mechanisms are explored utilising an ethnographic case study of the digital labour of independent fashion designers on Instagram. The proposed perspective on timespace friction demonstrates that mobile apps function as metronomes, nudging the timespaces of daily (work) life. Timespaces are thus negotiated in the polyrhythmic encounters of daily life, where designers challenge the rhythms of the platform or accelerate their practices to follow the imposed pace. A timespace friction perspective therefore sees beyond the smooth operating mechanisms of the platform economy that promise real-time data, flexibility and efficiency, revealing the hidden struggles of synchronisation (speeding up), de-synchronisation (slowing down) and losing grip (going viral).

Introduction: A temporal view of friction in platform capitalism

Instagram gave us such a speed that we could not catch up. . .. It was not only chaos, but it was also a carousel where you could not get out anymore. (Designer 08)

The quotation above is taken from an interview with a Berlin-based independent fashion designer who engages in the digital labour of posting and observing content on Instagram to build up her independent fashion brand. The fashion entrepreneurs, whose work has been examined for this study, work between material and technical arrangements, between haptic products and digital representations of their garments, between Instagram windows and shop windows and between online orders and the bodily experience of their clothes. In the polyrhythmic timespaces of their daily life, Instagram functions as a digital media metronome that co-directs the rhythms of digital engagement and co-shapes their temporalities of work. In the quote above, the designer describes that the imposed pace of Instagram is experienced as standing in contrast to the tempo-spatial possibilities of her daily work life. To explore this relationship further, I lay out a perspective on timespace friction that aims to illuminate the temporal negotiations among the timespace of digital capitalism and its related forms of digital labour.

In the emerging research field of critical platform studies, digital media platforms such as Instagram, TikTok, YouTube and Twitter have been noted as examples of influential information and communication technology that alter economic and social interactions. In this context, this article defines digital media platforms such as Instagram as ‘programmable digital infrastructures controlled by platform operators who, as non-neutral intermediaries, curate the interactions of independent complementors and users’ (van Dijck, 2013: 29). Platform operators encourage user engagement and content production as a form of digital labour for the purpose of monetising user data (Evans and Gawer, 2016; Srnicek, 2021). Therefore, digital platform companies have spurred novel forms of digital labour, such as bloggers and influencers (Brydges and Sjöholm, 2019; Caplan and Gillespie, 2020; Glatt, 2022) and added forms of digital labour to existing fields of work. Accordingly, the work environment of fashion and music has become mediated by digital platforms (Hracs et al., 2013; Hracs and Leslie, 2014; Jarrett, 2022; Kneese and Palm, 2020).

More precisely, this research underscores the platforms’ role as powerful time-structuring devices (Kitchin et al., 2017; Souza e Silva and Gordon, 2013; Straughan and Bissell, 2022; Wells et al., 2021), emphasising that digital media platforms ‘operate as platform economies, with peoples’ space-time movements being commodified’ (Kitchin, 2019: 788). The temporalities of digital media platforms are described as real-time media, characterised by presenting ‘fresh, dynamic or continuously processed content’ that contributes to perceptions of the present (Weltevrede et al., 2014: 126). Against the background understanding of the digital media company’s hunger for data, this mechanism has amplified to the point where the workers produce more and more content, and the platform collects more data about ever-more situations in ever-shorter temporal instances, leading to the datafication of the everyday (Barns, 2019; van Dijck, 2013; Zulli, 2018). Stressing the conjunctural and asymmetrical role of digital platform companies, platforms are ‘simultaneously embedded and dis-embedded from the space-times they mediate’ (Graham, 2020: 454). On the one hand, this situation is conducive to the power of the platform corporations, rendering them unaccountable because platforms extract data and control labour by operating at a different spatial scale than the workers. On the other hand, these conjunctural geographies, ‘render platforms vulnerable. The ephemeral nature of platforms means we can avoid them, circumvent them and replicate them’ (Graham, 2020: 453). In-between the contrasting poles of platform-domination and user-resistance, a perspective on the timespace friction of platform capitalism foregrounds the way tempo-spatialities are constantly negotiated in daily life, representing a constant struggle between the platform and the user/worker. This perspective adds further depth to our understanding of how the conjunctural geographies of platform capitalism are formed (and fought over).

Despite an increasing number of critical perspectives on digital labour (e.g. Kneese and Palm, 2020; van Doorn, 2017) and the spatiality of digital labour (e.g. Souza e Silva and Gordon, 2013; Wells et al., 2021), to date, a temporal perspective on digital platforms is not prominent in the academic debate. Introducing a dedicated temporal perspective, the aim of this article is to look behind the scenes of these always-updated platform interfaces, while examining the timespace contrast between the accelerating, and instantaneous rhythms of digital media platforms and the capacity of the humans, whose daily (work) lives have become dependent on such apps. Against this background, this article addresses this gap in research, answering the research question, how the global timespaces of digital (media) platforms are translated into the daily social realities of platform-mediated fields of work, and which temporal frictions occur in this process. Empirically, I examine how independent fashion designers, whose workspaces are enmeshed in the accelerated timespaces of the digital media platform Instagram make and disrupt the rhythms of platform capitalism and how time-space friction occurs. Therefore, this paper examines the temporalities of platform work, while examining digital media platforms as powerful time-structuring devices of platform-mediated labour.

To answer the research question, this article makes two contributions. First, it develops a perspective on timespace friction. The perspective builds on Tsing’s (2005) perspective on friction and May and Thrift’s (2001) and Lefebvre’s (2004) perspectives on timespace and rhythms. Under the notion of timespace friction, I connect notions of instantaneous time and real-time with the experiences of platform workers.

Secondly, this paper contributes to current academic debates by revealing the mechanisms of timespace friction in an empirical case study. This research relies on digital ethnographic methods. At its core, it draws from gathering and analysing 21 semi-structured interviews with independent fashion designers in Berlin and related experts. Additionally, field notes and 647 screenshots were collected during offline and online observations. An inductive qualitative content analysis was applied to the material.

Examining the digital work of content production and consumption in independent fashion design allows for the disclosure of the negotiation of temporal rhythms between the platform, Instagram and the user, and the labour struggles connected to this. Beyond the technical possibilities, the timespaces of platform capitalism are examined against the concrete practices and perceptions of this group of users (see Lehdonvirta, 2018). This research therefore examines the case of independent fashion design as one example of independent creative production that has been significantly influenced by the digital platform Instagram.

The digital labour of independent fashion designers has often been studied under the framework of the ‘platformization of cultural production’ (Nieborg and Poell, 2018: 4276). According to Nieborg and Poell (2018), this entails the extension of digital platforms in the app and web ecosystems affecting the operations of the creative industries. Typically, the work of YouTubers, Instagramers and bloggers has been studied in this context (Brydges and Sjöholm, 2019; Caplan and Gillespie, 2020; Glatt, 2022). Additionally, entrepreneurs such as fashion designers, artists and musicians who sell products, a brand, and part of their personality on digital media platforms and whose work practices have substantially changed because of this, can be classified as conducting platform labour in the platform-mediated field of cultural production (Duffy, 2017; Hracs et al., 2013; Hracs and Leslie, 2014; Jarrett, 2022; Kneese and Palm, 2020). One of the industries that has most gravitated towards Instagram is the fashion industry. The Business of Fashion media company reported that by March 2018, 98% of fashion brands had an Instagram profile (Berezhana, 2018; de Perthuis and Findlay, 2019). For such brands, having an Instagram page and maintaining it has become entangled with their day-to-day work. Posting on and reading Instagram are intertwined with designing, networking, producing and marketing clothes (Rocamora, 2017). Accordingly, independent fashion designers fulfil the hybrid role of being a designer, a blogger, an entrepreneur and a marketing agency at the same time (Repenning, 2022). Thus, the continuous work of engaging with the platform to consume digital data to monitor the status of the industry, as well as the work of producing content to advertise the brand, as well as novel designs, and personal achievements, need to be set centre stage (Brydges and Sjöholm, 2019).

The article is structured into the following sections: The theory section first defines and positions the perspective of timespace friction in longstanding academic debates on technology, time and acceleration. Subsequently, the concept of timespace friction is defined. In the next step, the role of Instagram as a time-structuring device in the fashion industry is elaborated, stressing perspectives on fast fashion, slow fashion and the role of digital labour. Then, a detailed description of the research methods used is provided. I then present the empirical material while synthesising three crucial timespace frictions: synchronisation friction, de-synchronisation friction and friction without grip. Finally, the results and their implications for the area of critical platform studies are discussed.

Situating timespace friction in debates on technological acceleration

In debates around technology and time, there has been a longstanding discussion about if and how technology induces temporal acceleration. In the following, I look at three relevant positions to situate the perspective of timespace friction. To start with, Harvey (1989) argues that innovation in communication and transportation technologies has reduced the temporal and spatial distances and thus increased the speed of capital production. He demonstrates how new prevailing modes of transportation and communication that encourage an increasing velocity of people, goods and information travelling across distance, indicate a new cycle of time-space compression in the organisation of capitalism. Harvey builds on what Marx has called ‘the annihilation of space by time’, a process fostered by innovation in technology and transport that reduces the costs of the circulation of goods across the globe, thus allowing the speeding up of the production of capital.

Rosa (2020) extends these arguments while tracing the effect of the speeding up of transport and communication in the accelerated experiences of people. The so-called ‘acceleration of social change’ summarises that the increasing pace and circulation of information and news means that unvaried conditions have a shorter duration, and the circumstances of stability are perceived as ever-changing. The acceleration of the pace of life is conceptualised as a contraction and agglomeration of practices. Digital technologies impact the acceleration of practices, as tasks can be done more efficiently, resulting in more activities being conducted faster. In sum, the increase in the flow of information, practices and experiences in a given time introduces social acceleration. Social acceleration finds its expression in modern society in the perception of stress, the fear of being left behind and the impression that time flies (Rosa, 2020).

Whereas Rosa extends the argument of technological acceleration by integrating individual practices and experiences, feminist geographers further complicate the interrelation of technology, society and humans. They point out that globalisation and related trends of acceleration and digitalisation are uneven, complex and messy (e.g. Katz, 2001; Massey, 1994). Accordingly, Wajcman (2015) introduces a STS perspective to study temporal acceleration processes. She underscores that people use, design and govern technologies. Therefore, she insists that technologies produce complex and diverse socio–temporal relations, rather than mainly faster ones. In this respect, Wajcman (2015: 184) states that the technologies of digital capitalism ‘as much reflect our highspeed culture as shape it’. Applying this latter perspective to the examination of digital media platforms brings to light that these platforms are conceived within specific social contexts and are intricately influenced by the diverse and localised ways in which they are utilised. Temporalities inflicted by digital media platforms are therefore co-developed by the social context, people and the specific architecture of the technology in an ongoing mutual relationship where people and society shape digital technologies, and digital technologies shape them. Digital platforms are an example of a communication technology that co-structures user practices and shapes the user’s aspirations for increased efficiency. Together, technologies, people and media practices lead to societal acceleration or de-acceleration processes.

Defining timespace friction

Corresponding to these notions of temporality, technology and acceleration, I introduce a third perspective on timespace friction. This perspective further extends the STS perspective on the interrelation of technology, temporality, users and acceleration. However, it foregrounds the multiplicity of timespaces and how they are made and re-made, sped up and slowed by digital platform companies, social practices, as well as actors’ hopes and wishes.

First, to understand the timespace frictions of digital media platforms as a contested tempo-spatial relation between platform imperatives and user imperatives, I turn to the conceptualisation of friction from Tsing (2005). Second, to define digital media platforms as rhythm-makers and time-structuring devices, I work with perspectives on timespace by May and Thrift (2001) and rhythms by Lefebvre (2004):

Friction

Tsing (2005) introduced a perspective on friction to establish a feminist, ethnographic viewpoint on global connections. Her empirical work stems from the Indonesian rainforest and traces the multiple and contested processes among its logging sites. Defining friction, Tsing argues that global connections are sticky worldly encounters made and un-made in messy daily confrontations across the globe. Rather than assuming to understand capitalism from a general perspective, she argues that it is necessary to discover how it operates in friction, where capitalism is made and unmade in the productive friction of daily encounters. She conceptualises friction as the ‘grip of worldly encounter’ (Tsing, 2005: 5), where capitalist universals are brought into action. Friction diverges from capitalism’s imperative, as they might block it. At the same time, friction translates the global flow of capitalism into daily life and thus makes these flows possible. Together, these processes constitute the messy, uneven forms of capitalism.

Translating the concept of friction to the friction of digital capitalism means that friction occurs between the conjunctural timespace of platform capitalism and the rhythms of users’ daily (work) lives as they rub against each other. Frictions thus form the zone of ‘confluence’ where, according to Tsing (2005: 4), ‘universals and particulars come together to create the [tempo-spatial] forms of [digital] capitalism we live in’. A perspective on friction entails viewing the daily encounters of platform capitalism ‘from below’ and observing how timespaces are made and unmade in confluence or divergence with the rhythm of the platform. Users translate the temporal rhythm of digital media into the reality of their daily temporal rhythms. For instance, they speed up processes and actions to align with the tempo-spatial requirements of the platforms; at other times, they slow down their efforts. Thus, friction occurs where the instantaneous rhythms of platform capitalism and the timespaces of the people in their daily (work) lives rub against each other and form the messy, contested timespace of everyday life.

Digital devices, timespace and rhythms

Building upon Tsing’s concept of friction, this research adopts a timespace perspective rooted in the theories proposed by May and Thrift (2001) as well as Lefebvre (2004). May and Thrift (2001) highlight the multiplicity of timespaces and how they are made and re-made, sped up and slowed by social practices and their variations. Therefore, they emphasise the individual daily experiences and practices of making timespace, underscoring how ‘a sense of social time is made and re-made according to social practices’ (May and Thrift, 2001: 5). May and Thrift’s (2001) definition of timespace accentuates that the construction of social time relies on the temporal ordering of spatially situated practices. Additionally, they describe social time as influenced by spatially situated practices and contingent processes of temporal meaning-making. Timespace thus relies on a temporal organisation of spatially situated practices, as well as meaning-making.

Additionally, they foreground that people’s tempo-spatial practices are rhythmically rendered by social, technological, natural and material domains. Crucially, they argue that a sense of time emerges from one’s relationship with various instruments and devices. They refer to tools such as the sundial, video recorders and telephones as shaping the nature and the perception of time. Additionally, they argue that not only devices but also timetables, such as weekly calendars or hourly schedules that are written down or transmitted in electronic form, shape socio-temporal practices and meaning and thus constitute a sense of time.

In Lefebvre’s (2004: 48) perspective on rhythms, he critically assesses the rhythm-making effects of the media, highlighting that ‘the media enter into the everyday; even more: they contribute to producing it’. He reflects on how the media seamlessly produces daily rhythms, as the images and words that enter everyday life at re-occurring intervals order daily and weekly structures and thus contribute to making up daily temporalities.

In sum, a perspective on timespace and rhythms allows us to see digital devices, as well as the media, as tools that influence the ordering of practices (May and Thrift, 2001), the daily re-occurring rhythms (Lefebvre, 2004) and the perception of the sense of time (May and Thrift, 2001). Thus, the digital interfaces that are part of daily spaces of platform-mediated interaction (May and Thrift, 2001), as well as the underlying capitalist incentives of the digital companies that provide these apps (Lefebvre, 2004), currently shape the perception of time and the rhythmic ordering of daily practices for many.

Synthesising timespace friction

Against the background of these theories, I define timespace friction as a contested tempo-spatial relation between the imperatives of platform capitalism and the temporal possibilities of the users. It denotes the temporal structuring process among the time-structuring mechanisms on the platform, orchestrated through the digital interfaces, nudging the users towards instantaneous data production or consumption. These mechanisms are negotiated because of the limited tempo-spatial possibilities of the platform users. Thus, the friction between the platform’s timespaces and the users’ everyday life are moments where the digital media timespace and the timespace of daily life rub against each other, are adjusted, and are formed.

The digital interfaces of a media platform, such as Instagram, are defined as a digital timetable or metronome that directs user practices in pre-conceived temporal forms and contributes to a sense of time. In this way, I underscore that the user practices are temporally ordered and synchronised by the digital interfaces and contribute to the meaning-making of time.

Instagram and accelerated timespaces of the fashion industry

Instagram’s tempo-spatial characteristics

Instagram represents a classic example of a digital media platform that has risen in prominence as a daily used digital tool. At its core, it matches corresponding user affordances and thus encourages forms of digital data production and consumption that operate in tandem with the platform-specific mechanism of value extraction (Hine, 2015; van Dijck, 2013). More specifically, Instagram affords interpersonal contact between individuals or groups that may be personal or/and professional (Barns, 2020; Lingel, 2017; van Dijck, 2013). Users establish digital connections via the ‘follow’ button to stay updated about the professional and/or personal life of other users. Additionally, they are encouraged to interact with the presented content through comments, likes, or shares. Further, Instagram promotes user-generated content. As a visual platform, it affords creative and cultural activity via the uploading of videos and photos in intersecting amateur and professional spheres (van Dijck, 2013). Therefore, Instagram is particularly prominent in the realms of artistic, creative and cultural production and consumption (Boy and Uitermark, 2017; Duffy et al., 2021). The fashion industry is one such creative-cultural industry that has been drawn to the use of Instagram, and functions in close relationship with the platform as a central space for marketing, sales, networking and inspiration (Repenning, 2022).

Rocamora (2017) underlines that digital media has a substantial impact on the way that design is constructed and the way that fashion shows are presented. She even argues that the photographic representation of a dress on digital media has often become more important than the dress itself. Similarly, under the notion of ‘brick-and-platform’ (Kneese and Palm, 2020: 2), the authors describe how platforms affect local merchants, brick-and-mortar shops and digitalised labour and sales processes in the case of the economy of fashion and music.

Crucially, Instagram also functions as a spatio-temporal media. The platform provides options to geotag posted content, filter data based on location and provide local as well as translocal social connections (Kitchin et al., 2017; Souza e Silva and Gordon, 2013). To this end, Lingel (2017) defines digital media platforms as social spaces that explicitly reference geographic locations in text, images and videos. Additionally, she underlines that implicit descriptions in the meta-data reveal the date, time and location of the content production.

Beyond the geotag and the metadata, digital media platforms such as Instagram are denoted as real-time or instantaneous media that further compress the sense of time and distance. Weltevrede et al. (2014) introduce the notion of ‘realtimeness’ to describe how digital media platforms produce distinct forms of real-time for their users. The idea of platforms as real-time media suggests characterising platforms based on if they present ‘fresh, dynamic or continuously processed content’ (Weltevrede et al., 2014: 126). For instance, Instagram stories are online for 24 hours, and live broadcasts are online only when live. This necessitates increasing interactions among users, who become more active and increase their ‘live’ glances on the site (Weltevrede et al., 2014: 142–143). Therefore, Zulli (2018) argues that the name Instagram points towards the platform’s role in presenting instant visuals, creating a continuous fleeting cycle of posting and viewing at always-updated digital content ordered by the platform’s digital interfaces. Moreover, digital platforms and social and spatial media have altered the practices of coordination in time and space (Souza e Silva and Gordon, 2013). The platform company nudges, which increase user interactions, result in capturing increased real-time data that the platform company then capitalises on (Kitchin, 2019).

Fast fashion, slow fashion and Instagram

In particular, the fashion industry represents a case whose tempo-spatial constitutions have dramatically changed. Due to the increasing importance of Instagram in the daily life of designers and consumers and the growing reliance on digital marketing and sales, the tempo-spatialities of fashion have been redirected. Under the term ‘fast fashion’, changes in the global production network of fashion have occurred. It serves as a critical term, indicating the prevailing fashion production approach led by major global players like Zara, H&M, Benetton, Topshop and Shein. Fast fashion can be described as a minimisation of the so-called time-to-market that, first and foremost, is ensured by a fast and responsive supply chain and cheap production costs. This entails that global fashion retailers spend minimal time on design. Instead, they source information on trends and designs and immediately start production and sales in swift timeframes. They source their clothes globally, with offshore production sites that produce massive amounts of clothes that cost little per item that are then sent to their stores globally. Consequentially, new fashion pieces are seen, selected, produced and sold almost immediately, and new collections enter the store at an ever-increasing rhythm. The three key assets of fast fashion companies are: (i) an increasing number of retail stores, (ii) a reliable information infrastructure to detect the latest trends and (iii) a quick and cost-efficient supply chain (Tokatli, 2007; von Hirschhausen, 2017).

Instagram, as real-time media, has fuelled two of the three crucial elements of the fast fashion architecture. First, the swift information system allows the detection of trends in real-time. For instance, information from the latest collection presented at Fashion Week travels through Instagram worldwide immediately. Trends are thus detected faster and can be directly included in the upcoming production line of fast fashion retailers. Second, the option to directly present and sell the items to customers through the always-updated digital interfaces on Instagram triggers the customers to order the clothes instantly from anywhere at any time. Information is transported even faster and desires are created quicker and replaced by new desires at an increased pace. Shop opening hours or commuting times are tempo-spatial obstacles slowing consumption. These barriers have been reduced because customers can order items anytime and anywhere through Instagram and the connected online shop (Crewe, 2017; von Hirschhausen, 2017). This entails compressing time and space (Harvey, 1989); platform technologies allow more products to be provided more frequently and in more territories than before.

On the other extreme of fast fashion, there is a contradicting development connected with the introduction of Instagram and the changing tempo-spatial rhythms of the fashion system. This development is sometimes referred to under the description of ‘slow fashion’ and thus associated with local sourcing and a slow pace of production and consumption, as well as sustainability (Leslie et al., 2014; von Hirschhausen, 2017). Essentially, the argument entails that the longstanding hierarchies in the fashion industry have become democratised because of the digital opportunities on Instagram. The hope is that everyone can make it from everywhere because every brand has the chance to utilise the many online options for independent producers. Consequently, independent and/or sustainable designers have used Instagram as a free tool for a sustainable counterculture to raise sustainability awareness, report transparently on the production process and sell their clothes to a personalised customer base, while not following the accelerated fashion industry trends.

For independent fashion brands, these developments indicate that Instagram has equally become a space of frustration and hope. On the one hand, Instagram is a media of frustration because platforms are used as a source of information to monitor the industry’s status and identify overall societal trends. The speed with which information is diffused has increased due to Instagram, and information is posted, accessed and commented on almost instantaneously by a translocal online network. These factors impact the increasing pace of trend diffusion, with the accelerating speed of fast fashion brands functioning as a catalyst. Independent brands encounter challenges in keeping pace, leading to feelings of frustration (von Hirschhausen, 2017).

On the other hand, Instagram is a media of hope because small players and independent designers have the chance to reach customers directly, market their clothes and build up a brand on their own. This raises hope for a democratisation of the industry and the opportunity to raise awareness for small brands and more sustainable fashion alternatives (Crewe, 2017). These inclinations increase the motivation for independent fashion brands to engage with customers and peers through Instagram. Thus, independent designers work between offline studios, online shops and online spaces on Instagram (Repenning, 2022). Building up a brand’s Instagram presence takes a lot of effort but no additional up-front monetary costs. Therefore, the continuous work of engaging with the platform to promote the work and the brand’s achievements has become an extra form of digital labour (Duffy, 2017). This labour stretches across public and private spaces and includes presentations of the self, as well as of the brand (Brydges and Sjöholm, 2019; Kneese and Palm, 2020). Thus, we can see that the tempo-spatial order of fashion has been altered due to the prominence of Instagram.

Methods

Against the background of the theory presented, the empirical research question aims to examine how independent fashion designers, whose workspaces are enmeshed in the accelerated timespaces of the digital media platform Instagram, make and unmake the rhythms of platform capitalism, and how timespace friction occurs. In addressing this research question, adopting a grounded approach becomes essential, enabling the development of an understanding of how digital media actively shapes daily experiences of time, how the rhythms of the platforms are translated on the ground and which frictions occur between the rhythms of everyday life and the temporalities of the digital media platform. This implies viewing platform capitalism and its temporal rhythms from below and examining experiences of living and working with platforms to uncover timespace friction in the mediated spaces of daily life.

To this end, this research relies on methods strongly inspired by digital ethnography (Hine, 2015; Pink et al., 2016). These approaches build on the premise that practices relating to digital technologies need to be studied beyond a divide between online and offline (Hine, 2015: 29). Leaving notions of the internet as a separate cyber space behind, digital ethnography seeks to reflect on how actors ‘experience being online as an extension of other embodied ways of being and acting in the world’ (Hine, 2015: 41) by choosing a ‘non-digital-centric approach to the digital’ (Pink et al., 2016: 7). Accordingly, digital ethnography relies on a combination of classic ethnographic methods applied in an online and offline field. Thus, online and offline observations and interviews uncover practices of interacting with digital media and illustrate perceptions of being in a digitally mediated environment (Postill and Pink, 2012).

This study’s core data source is a set of in-depth interviews with nine independent fashion designers from Berlin, lasting an average of 90 minutes each. The interviews are supplemented by 10 background interviews conducted with experts in different sub-fields of fashion to gain a broader understanding of the field and the impact of digital platforms in the fashion industry overall. Due to the importance of the digital platform Instagram, which was flagged as the most influential digital platform in the fashion industry in the first expert interviews, the subsequent data gathering and analysis focused on the role of the digital media platform Instagram. The data from the semi-structured interviews reflects the overall effects of Instagram as a rhythm-maker, the aims and emotions that underlie the posting process, and allows me to gain insights into Instagram’s impact on the individual work-life of designers and their experiences of time.

Three interrelated strategies formed the basis of my sampling. First, I compiled a list of Berlin-based fashion designers who presented their designs at the Berlin fashion week or other European fashion weeks in the previous years. Then, I conducted desktop-research to see which fashion brands from Berlin were named online as ‘up-and-coming’. Finally, my sampling strategy relied on snowball sampling, with interviewed experts recommending brands that they felt would be interesting for my research. Ultimately, I decided to include various independent designers from Berlin in order to avoid focusing too heavily on one sub-field in particular. Therefore, I included a wide range of independent designers; some have a local store, others do not, and some sell their items in Berlin only, others in Germany and others in Europe or even globally. The number of employees of these designers ranged from 1 to 10 and the number of people following their Instagram accounts differed (for further information on the fashion brands and the context interviews, see Supplemental Material).

In addition to the interviews, long-term online observations on Instagram were conducted. These observations facilitated insights into what and how often fashion-related people post, whom they connect to and how the platform’s interfaces and rhythms function in use. The online observations were conducted in three stages. The first month I focused on immersing myself in the field (January 2021–March 2021). Therefore, I set up an Instagram account and started to observe accounts from fashion designers and fashion experts in Berlin that I had selected for my sample. I was unfamiliar with the platform at the time and therefore used the daily observations in the first months to acquaint myself with the platform’s interfaces, compiling an inventory of Instagram’s technical options (e.g. posting photos and videos that are only visible for a limited timeframe, stories, commenting, following accounts, liking, geotagging, etc.) (see Light et al., 2016). I became accustomed to the usual posting rhythms of the observed accounts. From there, I grew the number of accounts I observed. Hine (2015) describes this process as building on the ethnographic principle of following digital connections rather than examining a pre-defined online community. Instagram would suggest other accounts to follow, or I would observe interesting online connections of the designers I followed that I would then add to my pool of observed accounts. Furthermore, I asked the interviewees which accounts they follow and then added those accounts to my observations as well.

After some months, I had the impression that I was familiar with the platforms’ interfaces and with the designers’ digital networks and posting practices. Therefore, I started the second online observation phase (March 2020–November 2020). This observation period continued with daily observations and introduced screenshots to document the observations. I took 645 screenshots during this period, collecting several good representations of typical posting practices. I stayed open to new ways of posting or interacting on Instagram and documented these as well. I also participated in online events such as the digital fashion week and went to offline events to contrast and relate online and offline observations. I concluded this process after I was able to label the observed ways of posting and interacting under a category that I had already established. I documented the observations through field notes and screenshots.

In the final observation phase (November 2020–August 2022), I reduced the number of accounts observed, while focusing on the Instagram accounts of the interviewed independent designers. Additionally, I added four additional independent fashion designers to the pool. These designers did not have the time to participate in an interview but they were active on Instagram and had a local store in Berlin. I looked at the accounts frequently but not daily in this period, observing and documenting new developments of the fashion brands and continuously examining their rhythms of engagement with Instagram.

Beyond online observations, offline observations at fashion weeks, art weeks, fashion markets, fashion shows, design workshops, etc., were conducted. Finally, I completed two follow-up interviews to query two former interviewees about recent developments I had observed online and wanted to understand further.

The offline methods allowed for reflection on how the online content came into being and how frequently Instagram was used. They revealed the incentives behind posts or comments and the emotions and experiences connected to the work of posting and observing pictures and videos. There was a natural connection between the online and offline data. Throughout the interviews, for instance, interview partners referred to posts on their Instagram page that I had viewed. The online observations enhanced my insight into the frequency of posting, posting practices and provided extensive insights into the shared online content. Also, it enhanced my understanding of the platform’s mechanisms and interfaces and provided me with an impression of what it is like to be exposed to fashion-related online content daily.

All the gathered data was collected with a promise of ensuring the anonymity of the participants and under the commitment to only use the data for the purpose of this research project. Therefore, I will refer to the observed screenshots by providing descriptions and I have numbered the interview to differentiate between the research participants.

In a final step, all data sources were coded in MaxQDA following the suggestions of an inductive content analysis based on Mayring (2022). This method is also known as a step-by-step implementation of open coding, which was initially proposed by Strauss and Corbin (1991). Against this background, coding in an inductive two-stage process was conducted. First, there was an inductive coding round, where a wide range of emerging themes on experiences, new possibilities and new difficulties of living and working in spaces that are partly controlled and facilitated by the platform Instagram were identified, paraphrased and categorised. The topic of altered temporality emerged from the data as a major critique of the new difficulties Instagram has introduced into the designers’ work lives. Then, in a deductive process, the material was re-arranged and ordered against the background of theories on technological timespaces, rhythms, timespace friction and Instagram as a rhythm-making device or metronome. The analysis was conducted in an iterative process going back and forth between inductive and deductive work, between empirical material and theory. Ultimately, the findings are synthesised in the analysis presented below.

Synchronisation friction

I now delve into understanding the experiences of independent fashion designers and their transformed tempo-spatial realities exploring how they navigate the consistently updated, fast-paced information platform and adapt its tempo-spatial demands into their daily (work) life.

The platform does not directly dictate the rhythms of engagement, rather, the platform communicates freedom, flexibility and independence while nudging the users in the ‘right’ direction to create favourable timespaces and rhythms of engagement and attention. The interviewees indicated that their rhythms of engagement with the platform are oriented on feelings, assumptions and opinions of other people, rather than on something that can be measured in hours, minutes and seconds.

Everyone has an opinion, everyone gives input. It is exhausting. . .Many people have the feeling they need to post something every other day. (Designer 07)

The designers report that they have the feeling that they need to engage with Instagram in specific timeframes, for example, they need to post every other day. They assume that Instagram rewards this behaviour. They share the belief that their content will gain visibility because the platform will send out their posted photos and videos to more people if they post regularly. The editor-in-chief of a fashion magazine stated:

What would you think of a brand who would post the same clothes for six months? After two weeks, you would assume they are dead. This is a massive driver. (Editor-in-Chief of a fashion magazine 01)

She further pointed out how that drives the designers to post more – even when there is nothing to show. Therefore, ever more instances of the everyday are posted on Instagram. She also described how Instagram’s always-updated interfaces are a driver for producing more clothes. She argues that repeatedly showing the same products for a longer time and creating excitement and attention is difficult. The designers also report waiting for the reactions when something has been posted. They want to find out who saw the post and liked it. One interviewee pointed out that this sometimes distracts his attention from dinner with friends. Then, after some time, other content on the platform gains attention. Therefore, the designers start thinking about what to post next. They are caught up in a constant synchronisation loop with the always-updated platform interfaces. The quote above reflects how independent fashion designers adopt the high-speed rhythm of Instagram because they feel the need to produce more clothes in swift timeframes to have something to show and sell on Instagram.

Even though this digital labour of posting a picture and a video requires regular engagement and effort, it often remains hidden. The offline work has become a process that is almost invisible and feeds into expectations of goods being effortlessly ordered on-demand, delivered just-in-time and constant real-time updates. These expectations are fuelled by global players such as Amazon, which seem to provide items in almost no time:

Some people somehow always assume that online delivery means Amazon, more precisely, Amazon Prime, delivering the next day. Actually, the designers are not Amazon Prime – sometimes, they just have to sew this thing for a moment – and that is also a real problem for people, in terms of digitisation and the expectations behind it. (Fashion Expert of Creative City Berlin 02)

Additionally, ever-active full-time bloggers seem to post numerous pictures effortlessly daily. This creates difficulties for the designers as well:

Instagram works when you’re online non-stop for 24 hours, when you’re posting stories, and when you narrate – and that’s so difficult for me. . .I’m not too fond of it. I might want to say something when I have a good day, and then I might have a week where I do not feel like filming myself, my vacation, or my daily life. (Designer 08)

These quotes demonstrates that Instagram not only speeds up work but that it extends the work tempo-spatially. It exemplifies that previously private aspects of daily or private life are seeping into work. This is a mechanism that many designers criticise in the interviews. Additionally, the temporal expectations of the online world that the designers grapple with, reveal the timespace friction defined previously: People expect to click and have the item the next day, and people are used to opening the app and being presented with a new photo or video. The work of taking pictures, editing them, uploading them, writing the text, creating links to the online shop, populating the online shop, producing the ordered item, packing it and sending it out and delivering it therefore remain hidden in assumptions about real-time delivery and effortlessly but constantly updated real-time content. Thus, synchronisation friction occurs between the time it takes to look at the content online, the digital durability of the content, and the time it takes to produce it offline. To deal with the experienced temporal friction, one strategy is to speed up the work practices to synchronise with the rhythms of the platform or to post more content.

Also, the passive engagement of consuming digital content on Instagram is co-determined by the rhythms of the platform. Liking other posts, and scrolling through the Instagram pages is shaped by the platform’s rhythms. The designers said they lose their sense of time when consuming the online content. The interfaces are built up to create a smooth and continuous engagement. They are inclined to forget why they opened the app in the first place as they view, swipe, scroll and klick effortlessly through the continuously updated platform interfaces. The designers narrate that they spend more time on social media than they expect to, which disturbs their creativity and their time management:

I look at my Instagram account a lot. A lot. Sometimes I am shocked, and I think that I have looked at this for hours, and my real creativity is torn apart. (Designer 05).

You get a certain loss of reality when you look at it. Sure, you learn a lot, and you see a lot, and you’re closer to a lot of people . . . but I think you get lost. (Designer 08)

These findings on the frictions of synchronisation indicate how fashion designers synchronise their work rhythms with the rhythms of digital media. Some strategies to deal with this include to speed up their work, handle additional digital work and catch up with the flow of information. Therefore, synchronisation friction reveals an increased pace of digital labour practices and digital content consumption, indicating social acceleration (Rosa, 2020). The synchronisation does not occur without friction. Sometimes designers must get creative and show something when there is nothing new to show. They must present themselves even if they are not having a good day. They are caught up in a loop of posting again and again, they are influenced by constantly updated online data, and they must handle the digital labour that happens ‘behind the scenes’.

Additionally, these insights reveal that digital platforms have come to stand for maximal temporal flexibility and individuality for platform workers. Platforms are used in particular because they are seen as a means of democratisation and they are seen as a way to work more efficiently (Repenning, 2022; Repenning and Oechslen, 2023), yet the analysis on synchronisation friction indicates that the apparent flexible time control is actually a ‘red herring’ (Lehdonvirta, 2018: 14). The fashion designers cannot catch up, as the experienced timespace friction indicates. In this case, the designers accelerate practices and rhythms in the fashion industry. Therefore, the increased efficiency in the fashion industry driven by Instagram leads not to temporal freedom but rather to the pressure of conducting more work tasks in less time.

De-synchronisation friction

As a counterreaction to the pressures of Instagram’s rhythms, the interviewees describe how they actively try to slow down their online practices to follow their own rhythms instead of following the rhythms that the platform imposes. This can be seen as de-synchronising from the required platform pace:

I try not to be pressured anymore. I do not think I have to post so much. I firmly believe that it is more important to show something when you have something to show, instead of always trying to keep up with the others. Since I started to have this mindset, social media has become more relaxed, and it is fun again. (Designer 07)

Another designer pointed out that she initially looked a lot at what other accounts would post. Now she focuses more on creating content and reacting to comments instead of examining what others do. This strategy saves her time and energy and leaves her with more time to focus on her own ideas and her own progress (Designer 04). A third strategy is to divide the work between team members in order to balance the workload and the pressure:

I try to divide the work as much as possible between the team and me, so it does not fall on one person or me . . . And we also try to make it work and have fun with that, less to be a slave of that subject, more to embrace it and to create something. (Designer 06)

Nevertheless, the designers point out that they feel guilty or pressured when they slow down:

I am always criticised that I do not produce enough online content. I do not show enough. I do not post enough. (Designer 08)

I know many people who work for magazines or marketing agencies. They constantly criticise that I am not posting regularly enough. (Designer 07)

Practices of de-synchronisation reduce speed in the displacement of online content and adjust the timespaces of the digital media metronome to the lived rhythms of people, while diverging from the imposed rhythms of technology. The data shows that de-synchronisation is a constant effort to create a distance from digital media and slow down or reduce digital media usage. At the same time, it highlights that one is never free from the rhythms of the platform because people know that the platform is there, and it keeps on turning. Therefore, the interviewees experience pressure while they slow down their posting practices.

The perspective on synchronisation and de-synchronisation friction demonstrates that there is a frictional worldly encounter that translates the rhythm of the platform into daily life. In other words, the digital platform needs a grip of worldly encounters to function because the imposed spatio-temporal frames of engagement are translated and adjusted on the ground. The example of fashion design illustrates that every digital interaction and every online order is grounded in the offline world and must be processed there. For instance, an ordered item must be designed, made, packed and sent offline. Fashion relies on materiality, the haptic, and the bodily experience. Taking a photo, creating and shipping the item offline, and even trying it on is often a much slower process than the klick, swipe or view in the online world. Therefore, frictions occur while translating the digital speed into the polyrhythmic daily life. Aligning online and offline temporalities to reduce the ruptures and ensure that processes work smoothly requires effort, careful consideration and negotiation on the ground. Therefore, synchronisation and de-synchronisation friction occur while the designers synchronise and de-synchronise their daily lives with the rhythms of digital media.

Practices of de-synchronisation are a way to regain control of the temporal structures of the accelerating work-life. Even though one could argue that this practice can be seen as a form of resistance against the time- and attention-structuring mechanisms of digital media, in line with Jorge (2019), I contend that this practice supports the acceptance of digital media’s time-accelerating mechanisms in the long run. Taking a break from digital media to regain control for a time supports the designers endurance to accept inappropriate work temporalities (Jorge, 2019).

Friction without grip

A wheel turns because of its encounter with the surface of the road; spinning in the air, it goes nowhere. (Tsing, 2005: 5)

In this quote, Tsing emphasises that too much movement can lead to less movement because the grip is lost; things move too fast and eventually go nowhere. I will make use of the metaphor of the wheel spinning nowhere to describe the missing worldly grip that occurs in a viral situation. In such instances, the digital platform turns so fast and requires so many interactions in too little time that they lose grip in the offline world – the wheel turns free as the algorithms require ever more interactions that are impossible to handle. One designer described such fast-moving incidents and her emotions and feelings in such a viral situation:

Within 24 hours, we had 80 million views on our Instagram page, and within 12 hours, we had 50,000 visitors on our website. The online store was sold out within a couple of days. It was totally cool. We were like, wow, and yeah. At the same time, we thought, oh no, we do not have any products at all, we could make a lot of money here, and we did not have any products because we are a small company, which was just unfair. (Designer 03)

Another fashion label describes that one of their customers with an influential Instagram account unexpectedly posted a picture wearing one of the label’s dresses. The brand reported that they were surprised by the rapid order requests. They had to order new fabric and did not know how to handle the orders for the dresses issued in the online shop. The designer was in a different German town at the time, and she immediately went to Berlin to help with the production and coordination. Still, they had to ask for the customers’ patience because they could not handle the requests on time. In an online post later, the designer stated:

Sometimes I think about whether I should post stories on Instagram. When I post these stories, the online shop explodes. I am very happy about it, but sometimes we cannot catch up. (Online post from a local fashion label/retailer)

While the designers try to synchronise with the platform, they realise that it is impossible to accelerate their practices at the required speed to catch up with the pace of the platform. Therefore, they let the wheel of the algorithms turn without grip. They leave e-mails and requests unanswered and ask for the customers’ patience as they try to get a hold of the situation.

These viral encounters exemplify a situation where the grip is lost. The platform turns without friction, as the platform’s mechanisms seem to spin so fast that they cannot be synchronised with the offline possibilities. Therefore, the increased speed of the platform is not directly translated into an increased velocity of consumption and production. Instead, the platform loses grip. The metaphorical wheel turns without friction and cannot be processed. Therefore, the increased impulses for motion turn into stressful, messy and chaotic situations on the ground, as the platform seems to move and usher responses that are almost impossible to translate in the offline world.

These viral situations are very much fuelled by hope. The designers generally are enthusiastic about such situations, saying that are surprised and happy. These reactions show that the viral situation is a moment where their aspirations materialise because the platform presents the potential for sudden growth (Duffy, 2017; Pettit, 2021). Therefore, the designers try to catch up with the rhythms of the platform to ride along with the unexpected wave of success. Who dictates and executes the rhythms becomes very apparent in such an extreme situation. While trying to catch up with the platform’s pace, a chaotic moment of hope and disappointment of acceleration and the perception of being too slow remains. After a rush on the account, the situation ends and slows down after a couple of days, as the attention on the always-updated digital media interfaces shifts elsewhere.

Conclusion: On digital media metronomes and timespace friction

I have brought together in this paper the platform labour and timespace perspectives to propose a framework to study the relationship between the temporal rhythms of platform capitalism and platform labour. I propose that digital media platforms can be seen as a metronome that nudges the timespaces of daily (work) life. To gather data, and subsequently profit, the platform prompts the user towards increasing interaction with, and attention to, the platform. A focus on examining friction reveals that timespaces of platform capitalism are adjusted to the polyrhythmic encounters of daily life that challenge the rhythms of the digital media metronome or accelerate practices to try to follow the imposed pace.

Going beyond notions of acceleration, real-time, instantaneous time or disconnecting time, the notion of the digital media metronome builds on the previously established definitions of timespace friction. It entails that digital media platforms have become rhythm makers that co-shape the temporal practices and experience of time in the daily life of its users (Lefebvre, 2004; May and Thrift, 2001). Digital media metronomes nudge users towards providing instantaneous data, real-time communication and ‘just-in-time’ interactions (Weltevrede et al., 2014; Zulli, 2018). However, this article underscores that digital media metronomes do not operate in a vacuum but are a product of societal imperatives, media practices and users hopes and wishes (Wajcman, 2015). Thus, the digital media metronome operates as a socio-technical arrangement between the imperatives of platform capitalism and platform labour. Users can turn a metronome on and off, it can be set faster or slower, and it can be followed or ignored. However, even though both platform owners and users can direct the digital media metronome, it is essential to distinguish their difference in terms of power (Massey, 1994; van Dijck, 2013). To this end, the friction between the platform’s accelerated time-spaces and the users’ everyday life is indicated as the moment where the digital media timespaces and the timespaces of daily life rub against each other, are negotiated, adjusted and formed. This perspective reveals how the platform’s instantaneous and fast rhythms are re-arranged by the users and points towards the daily labour struggles.

The framework established was employed to study independent fashion designers in Berlin and their work on the digital media platform Instagram. In the case study, three timespace frictions of platform capitalism were distilled: (i) synchronisation friction occurs when the platform’s speed is translated into the daily life of the workers who try to follow the rhythms of the platform and speed up their actions; (ii) de-synchronisation friction resembles a continuous and effortful distancing from the speed of the platform, with workers slowing down and trying to impose their own rhythms of engagement; and (iii) friction without grip is an extreme situation that occurs during the phenomenon of viral events. With such events, the platform’s algorithms spin free and lose connection to the rhythms on the ground. They require such a higher amount of interaction in such a short time that is impossible to follow. Therefore, the situation is shaped by a mix of hope, chaos and the continuous need to try to catch up.

This paper demonstrated that observing the timespace friction of digital platforms allows us to see beyond the apparently smooth operating mechanisms of the platform economy that promise real-time data, just-in-time flexibility and efficiency (see Lehdonvirta, 2018). Instead, it underscores that platform timespaces are negotiated on the ground where they either rhythmically pulsate together or grapple against other daily rhythms. Offline practices take more time and effort than always-updated online clicks (see de Perthuis and Findlay, 2019). Therefore, frictions among the contrasting timespaces occur. The power relations between the rhythms of the platform and the rhythm of the worker show that often the workers feel inclined to follow the platform’s time-space nudges while increasing and speeding up their digital engagement (Duffy, 2017; Kitchin, 2019; Kneese and Palm, 2020; Zulli, 2018). For the platform, the goal is accomplished because more attention and interactions are created. Thus, data and capital accumulate.

Supplemental Material

sj-docx-1-epn-10.1177_0308518X241231691 – Supplemental material for Speeding up, slowing down, losing grip: On digital media metronomes and timespace friction in the platformised temporalities of fashion design

Supplemental material, sj-docx-1-epn-10.1177_0308518X241231691 for Speeding up, slowing down, losing grip: On digital media metronomes and timespace friction in the platformised temporalities of fashion design by Alica Repenning in Environment and Planning A: Economy and Space