Nat Locke: It turns out this generation has a lot of very strong opinions about phone calls and … socks

Recently, I discovered two foolproof ways to freak out a gen Z-er if you need to. Not that I’m trying to start a generational war or anything, but occasionally, in retaliation for being age shamed by a poppet who was born this century, you feel the need to strike out. Like when a 15-year-old looked me dead in the eye and told me he had no idea who Kylie Minogue was. Or the 20-something workmate who insisted he’d not only never seen, but had never heard of the movie Pretty Woman. Or when I’m earnestly asked what life was like in the 1900s. As a gen X-er, I shouldn’t have to put up with this. And so, I lash out in the best way I know how. The most effective way to truly freak out a gen Z-er is to call them. I don’t mean call them names. I mean actually call them on the telephone. This is a generation so averse to conversation that they cannot deal with such effrontery. Gen Z are wired to communicate in many ways. They text. They slide into your DMs on Instagram. They WhatsApp. They send you a pertinent meme. They mention you in a comment on a TikTok. But actually speak to you on the telephone? Ew. Gross. For extra hilarity, I’ll occasionally suggest to a gen Z-er in my life that perhaps the best way to find out if a particular cafe is open is to call them. Oh, the look of disgust on their innocent little faces. Of course, they’re never going to call my bluff and actually do it, which is great, because the cafe workers don’t want to answer the phone anyway. I mean, I do understand where their reluctance stems from. A text is succinct. If you want to get your point across without being coerced into a conversation, it’s a very efficient method. It is essentially the bare minimum required to communicate and still get your point across. Even if that point is a cartoon kitten singing APT. For those of you who definitely know Kylie Minogue, this is a very catchy current tune by Rosé and Bruno Mars. I work in commercial radio. I know about these things. It extends to business, too. I have been dealing with a dress hire operation over the last few months, helping my niece to secure a gown for her school ball (so, yes, a high stakes exercise). The business she found doesn’t respond to emails, and if you ring them, they don’t answer and your call diverts to a recorded message that helpfully informs you there is no opportunity to leave a voicemail. The 20-somethings who run this enterprise don’t seem to care that they are, in essence, uncontactable, knowing full well that if you don’t rent their dresses, someone else will. Besides, you can make an appointment on their website. What else do you want? Apart from the fact that they have very strict rules around school ball dress hire and if there is any deviation from that, you are asked to contact them separately. And then any attempts to contact them will be soundly ignored. It’s lucky their dresses are gorgeous. The other very effective way of grossing out a gen Z-er is sock related. It turns out this generation has a lot of very strong opinions about socks, and whatever your preferred style of sock is, you’re wrong. I like to gleefully inform gen Z-ers that I’m not wearing any socks at all, and watch their disdainful little faces contort in front of me. Once, I heard a gen Z girl gasp out loud when I made my bold, sockless declaration. Quelle horreur! But it’s not just the absence of socks that weirds them out. They also hate it when we wear those low-cut anklet socks that you can barely see. They are a full crew generation and they shall not waver. Even though, to my ancient eye, a crew sock worn with sneakers and paired with a skirt looks … well, dorky. But what would I know? Of course the beauty of it is that I don’t actually care if a gen Z-er is disgusted by me. While they might be writing me off to their mates derisively, I’m skipping around in my tiny little socks knowing the sight of my naked ankles is physically revolting to them. And that’s completely worth it. So, if you see a set of knobbly ankles being shamed on TikTok, there’s a fair chance they’re mine. And I’m here for it. Bring it on. At least I know they’re not going to call their friends on the phone to talk about it.