Why 2026’s creative class is turning to analogue bags to fight screen fatigue

Because touching grass starts with what you carry.

Feb 25, 2026

I do not know a single person who can sit through a full red light without checking their phone, and I say that as someone who once unlocked mine to check the time and resurfaced seven minutes later, doom-scrolling through brain-rot reels on Instagram. Somewhere in 2025, while the year kept spiralling and every app was literally filled up with AI slop, a lot of us even started calling 2026 the new 2016, all thanks to burnout. The feed no longer feels like a space you end up visiting to decompress; it feels like a place that extracts something from you, whether that is attention, money, or just a reaction, and after years of living inside that loop, people have started to notice the toll. Trends come and go before they mean anything, everything looks heavily curated, and the sense that you are always being nudged toward the next thing to buy or become is hard to ignore.

A couple of weeks ago, while working out of a cafe, I heard a sharp snap of a flip phone, and that sound made me look up from my laptop. At the next table, a girl was holding a black Nokia 2760, and I stared at it longer than I would like to admit because I had not seen one in years. Obviously, I asked her about it, and what started as a quick question turned into ten minutes of us trying to beat each other at Snake with full concentration for once. Her bag sat on the chair beside her that held a creased paperback of Heated Rivalry, a journal thick with filled pages, and a film camera she had picked up at a flea market, the one you have to get developed before you see what you captured, and each item felt like it belonged to a different pace of living.

I found that very interesting, and it weirdly made me feel like I was watching someone step out of a loop the rest of us keep running without thinking about it. The way social media works right now is simple. It wants your time. It wants you to open the app every now and then and stay there. In the last year, the volume of content has shot up. AI tools made it easy to produce posts, images, and videos at scale. Feeds felt more crowded than ever before, which put pressure on many. You might not name it, but you feel it in how hard it is to focus on one thing without checking your phone. That pressure is exactly why more people have started carrying what they call analogue bags, filling them with books, journals, film cameras, digicams, iPods, and even flip phones like the Nokia 2760, as a way to place physical limits between themselves and the feed.

What are analogue bags?

Analogue bags are curated bags people carry that are built around tools that do not feed into social timelines or pull you back into algorithms. It could be a paperback instead of a Kindle, a digital or film camera, newspapers, a journal, an iPod loaded with stored music instead of algorithmic suggestions, and even a simple flip phone, which cannot open apps designed to keep you scrolling. These are basically substitutes for behaviours that most of us no longer can control, as they give your hands and your attention alternatives that do not default to the feed.

The idea grew out of online circles where photographers, writers, designers, and other creatives were already sharing what they carried each day and why. Film communities talked about items they would carry to help them focus and process. Writers posted photos of paperbacks and marked-up journals as a way to explain how they avoided opening social apps during commutes. By late 2025, niche accounts began tagging their posts with variations of “analogue bag” while linking it to digital fatigue and attention control. From there, the concept spread through newsletters, podcasts, and feature stories that were already covering burnout from infinite scroll. The idea formed through repetition, shared frustration, and people publicly documenting small changes in how they structure their days.

What people carry in their analogue bags

When I began asking people to empty their bags, I expected a list of objects. What I got instead were coping mechanisms, creative anchors, and small systems built to hold attention in place. The items repeat across cities and industries, but the reasons behind them felt more personal.

Rohan Sharma, a content creator currently based in Mumbai and originally from Los Angeles, carries three analogue essentials: a small planner, a journal, and a book. “I use the journal the most,” Rohan told me. He started journaling four months ago after noticing how deeply constant screen time was affecting him. “My journal is something I love to carry around, because it closes the loops that doom-scrolling open in my head.”

His phone still dominates his day. “My day typically looks like 7 hours of screen time,” he said. He moves between Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, CapCut, Edits, and analytics tools. “I am checking stats probably 50 times a day.” That habit, he admits, drains him. “Being on screens all day has dramatically changed my attention span. I can’t sit still with one idea or one edit unless I have manually blocked those apps. If there is no friction in place, I feel a magnetic force between my thumb and my distracting apps.” The notebook acts as that friction. “Carrying a notebook has definitely shifted my energy,” Rohan said. “I become a lot more clear-minded when I journal, and get a lot more stressed when I am on my phone.”

For Shiv Khandelwal, a content creator and creative director, the bag looks different. On a shoot day, you will likely find an old handicam and an iPod. The handicam brings texture and imperfection back into work that often feels over-polished. The iPod serves a different purpose. “If you open Spotify or Apple Music on your phone, there are thousands of things, thousands of distractions,” Shiv told me. “Earlier, you could think of that one song or that one artist and your mind is in one place.”

He also carries a physical notebook for sketches and lighting diagrams. Instead of tapping notes into an iPad, he prefers drawing camera positions and set layouts by hand. The act of illustrating helps him think through framing and space before the shoot even begins.

Photographer Subhrit Verma’s analogue bag reflects what he does for a living. Inside, you might find a Nikon F80D with a 50mm lens, a Canon AE-1, and an old Minolta light meter that belonged to his father. He often shoots Portra 400 for colour and Kodak T-Max 400 for black and white. He also carries books featuring photographers like Harry Gruyaert, Nadav Kander, and Peter Lindbergh. “Most of what’s in my bag stays there because there’s an emotional story attached to it,” Subhrit said. For him, these tools enforce intention. “You’re limited to 36 exposures, and each frame demands intention,” he explained. Without instant review or endless retries, he commits to light, framing, and emotion in the moment. The bag for him is specifically to maintain discipline.

DJ Adi Chaudhri’s setup is less aesthetic and more practical. He still carries wired headphones and a pen. In his bag right now: earplugs, loose cash, unused beverage coupons, a pen from a recent flight he took, and a small notebook filled with music ideas. “Having something tactile just allows you to participate in your own life a little bit more,” Adi told me. He sees limitation as clarity. “If I have all the stimulus and information of the world at my fingertips… then it’s all informing my own decisions,” he said. Writing ideas down by hand keeps instinct intact. There are no push alerts on paper. You decide when to open it.

Across all of them, the contents still differ. A journal. A handicam. A film camera. Wired headphones. A light meter was passed down from a parent.

Why the analogue bag resonates now

For Rohan Sharma, this turn feels personal. “I think this analogue turn is providing an increased simplicity to people’s lives,” he told me. After years of being online by default, he believes many of us are trying to feel like people again, not output machines. “After being chronically online and being controlled by their devices, I am certain that people enjoy how liberated and clear-minded they feel when they unplug.” I agree with him. The appeal is not vintage for the sake of it. It is a relief. But as he puts it, “It then becomes a matter of how well you can harness your mind and tolerate boredom, which decides if you actually do set limitations.” The bag is only useful if you are willing to use it.

Shiv Khandelwal frames it in terms of the pressure to maintain constant output. “When we are constantly posting, we do end up falling under the trap of too many trends,” he said. “You are supposed to post like someone else, you are supposed to not miss out on a trend cycle.” I see that same pressure when every feed starts to look identical within weeks. Analogue tools interrupt that sameness. Shiv prefers drawing his lighting plans and camera positions by hand. “Working with such tools is a blessing,” he said. The lack of endless correction no longer stresses him. “You get what you get… the magic of it is in letting it be how it is.” That mindset forces intention before the camera turns on. It also reintroduces risk, which I think is what makes the work feel alive again.

For Subhrit Verma, the shift began with the physical act of light hitting film. “What captivated me most was the authenticity of the process — the way light physically falls onto the film and leaves its trace,” he said. He describes analogue as slower and more intimate, “less about capturing and more about being in the moment.”

DJ Adi Chaudhri takes it further into privacy. “There’s something freeing about not having a digital archive of everything,” he said. “If it’s gone, it’s gone.”

What to pack in your analogue bag

If you’re going to do this, don’t start with Pinterest. Start with your worst habit. Think about the exact moment your hand reaches for your phone. Is it at traffic lights or in lifts? During awkward pauses in conversation. On your commute. That is the gap you’re packing for.

If you scroll the second, there’s silence, carry something you can actually read in small pockets of time. Not a 600-page classic you’ll never open, but a book you’re genuinely interested in. If your brain feels crowded after long scroll sessions, carry a small notebook, just to empty your head somewhere that isn’t a trauma dump post on Instagram.

If streaming apps turn into endless skipping, load an iPod with albums you love and leave it at that. If you overshoot everything on your phone camera and post it within minutes, try a film camera or even a basic digital camera that forces you to wait before you see the result. The waiting is the point.

Keep it light. Three items are enough. There is no need of carrying a typewriter with you. The bag should feel like an alternative, not you hopping on another trend and dipping your toes back into overconsumption. And be honest with yourself. You’re probably still carrying your smartphone. Everyone is. This isn’t about pretending you live offline. It’s about creating friction in the exact places where you feel out of control.

Lead Image: IMDb

Also read: Boring feeds are taking over Instagram and it’s actually kind of liberating

Also read: Stroll, don’t scroll: 5 fun things to do during lunch that don’t involve your phone

Why 2026’s creative class is turning to analogue bags to fight screen fatigue

Because touching grass starts with what you carry.

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