It happened slowly; very slowly and then all at once, in the way that all great realisations do, creeping up on you in the teasing way a sunrise hoists itself through the sky.

I was scrolling through my Instagram feed – something I try to avoid at all costs – liking this, watching that, when it occurred to me that none of the pictures, Reels or “dumps” I’d double-tapped had been fashion content.

Why, I hear you cry, had you not been liking content about outfits? Isn’t that the very premise of my job as a fashion editor? Well, yes, it is – at least in part. However, this particular session of doomscrolling affirmed something I’ve long suspected: fashion doesn’t really exist on the internet.

Of course, in a very literal sense, it does. A suite of content creators feed their families and keep roofs over their heads by posing for social media snaps in clothes. They have, in turn, added to the creation of the influencer economy in the UK, which is expected to reach £12.5 billion this year. Since the creation of Instagram in 2010, fashions and their wearers have cultivated the app’s reach to make pseudo-professions from, quite literally, wearing clothes.

You’re sorely mistaken if you think style exists on the internet, and this is why