Is Italian brain rot even real Italian?
Italian brain rot videos have been trending, but people are starting to discover some strange facts about them. CBC Kids News contributor Matthew Hines breaks down this new online trend.
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Globe and Mail
19 hours ago
- Globe and Mail
Our TikTok wedding: Why couples are turning their big day into social media content
In an era when people share everything online, from job updates to baby photos to vacation selfies, it's no surprise that weddings have also said 'I do' to the social-media spotlight. But it's not enough any more to just post candids to the grid. Now, couples, inspired by celebrity weddings, have begun hiring content creators to help them roll out the wedding quickly, in a package designed to be admired on a phone. Readers: Tell us about the best wedding you ever attended According to wedding market research firm Splendid Insights, one in six couples hired a content creator for their wedding last year. A wedding content creator is a professional hired to capture and package the big day specifically for social-media platforms such as TikTok and Instagram. The content creators get the behind-the-scenes moments, produce short-form videos, documentary-style videos and candid photos. The turnaround is fast – couples can share highlight reels as soon as the next morning. 'Everything we shoot is mostly done on a smartphone, and we shoot a lot of content in accordance with how they're seen on social media, so a lot of vertical shots for Instagram and TikTok,' says Felicity d'Eon, a full-time wedding content creator and wedding planner. According to a wedding trend report done by Hitch, there was a 586-per-cent increase in searches for wedding content creators in 2025 alone. 'Today's generation doesn't want to wait a couple months for their photos and videos,' says d'Eon, who started working part-time as a wedding planner and content creator in 2022. 'They want to wake up the next morning and post their big-day photos and videos online as soon as possible.' Increasingly, couples are planning their weddings with content in mind from the very beginning, according to a 2024 report by Zola, which surveyed almost 7,000 couples. That year, there were dramatic increases in searches for terms such as 'documentary wedding photos' and 'editorial wedding photos' on Pinterest, pointing to a preference for a cinematic, stylized approach tailored for social media. And wedding content creators are just a piece of the pie. 'If [couples are] going to be sharing on Instagram and their Facebook, it has to look top-notch. If they have a TikTok account or if they're influencers, absolutely it has to be curated and they're going to be focusing more on the photography, videography and the way it looks and feels,' says Tracey Manailescu, the co-founder of the Wedding Planners Institute of Canada. She also notes that the trend toward hyper-personalized visuals often comes with a high price tag: The starting price varies, but according to the wedding website the Knot, typical content-creation packages start at US$1,000. This is in addition to the US$2,900 average spent on a photographer, based on insights gathered from 17,000 U.S. couples who either got married in 2024 or are planning their 2025 weddings. Manailescu has also seen a growing trend of couples tailoring their special day to reflect their unique personalities. Instead of large crowds, some couples are opting for intimate gatherings that allow them to invest in a visually stunning and elegant experience. Every element is thoughtfully curated to personalize couples' wedding experience. Even things such as customized hashtags allow couples to share and collect wedding memories online. For Quinn Cove, a content creator who got married in 2024, the approach to her own wedding's content creation was more about balance than branding. 'Despite putting significant thought into capturing our wedding, through photography, videography and illustration, my primary intention was actually to reduce the time spent creating content on the day itself,' she stated. She and her husband put an emphasis on candid captures, limiting posed photos to just 30 minutes. Their documentary-style approach highlighted intimate moments: the two cuddling up in a car, or running off together with the bouquet. They also requested videography of the live ballet dancers who performed at their reception. 'We wanted something different,' she said. 'Content that reflected the genuine emotions and spontaneity of the day.' She emphasized the importance of not letting content creation eclipse the reason for the celebration. 'While capturing the day is important, so is living it.'
Globe and Mail
21 hours ago
- Globe and Mail
A river cruise with our American frenemies – what could go wrong?
Jane Christmas is a Canadian author. We are on the Rhine, sailing down the lazy river, staring at ancient European castles and pine-covered hills. The occasional barge or river boat passes in the opposite direction. We wave. We lean over the rail and watch the currents and eddies. The river flows, the sun beams. It's life in the slow lane, and boy, do we need it. Away from the noise of an angry, divided world. Away from blaring headlines, from the fearmongers urging us to prepare an emergency kit because the Apocalypse is closing in. Away from the stuff that makes our hearts race and our minds plunge into dark thinking. Look who's sorry now: Americans are an apologetic bunch to this Canadian on vacation Our party of four Canadian couples finds itself to be among a distinct minority on this small cruise ship. The American passengers vastly outnumber us: 135 of them, fewer than 30 of us. It's awkward, given the trade tensions between our two nations. Still, we're pretty sure we can roll with it. We're a friendly, easygoing bunch. Two nights in, the cruise director announces a pub quiz. Hey, that sounds fun. Let's do it. The other passengers form their groups, grab their drinks, and off we go. Team Canada hits a near-perfect score, falling at the question, On which side of her face is Mona Lisa's smile? But it doesn't matter, we've won handily. Our reward is two bottles of champagne, one of which we immediately hand to the American group sitting next to us as thanks for marking our answer sheet. They're simpatico. We think. Walking back to our rooms, I clock another large group of Americans. Their lips are tight, their arms crossed. I can imagine they're the type to start yelling 'U.S.A.! U.S.A.!' at a moment's notice. They glare at us. One of them – male, white, obese, scarfing down an entire tube of complimentary peanuts – gives me the stink eye and calls out, in a MAGA tone, the number 51. 'In your dreams, buddy,' I say with a smile, and walk on. But when I reach the door of our room, the smile is gone and my head is filled with less civil replies, ones that might elicit a punch being thrown. One of our friends asks what that guy had said to me. I confirm what she overheard. The faces on the rest of our group fall. Apparently, there's no escape from bullies, even on a seniors' cruise. Keller: We see your joke about the 51st state, and raise you a reference to sacking the White House As the trip goes on, things do not improve. Aside from two Americans who approach us to apologize for their current President, the rest treat us as if we're COVID carriers. They rarely acknowledge us in the hall, don't meet our eyes or say hello or good morning like normal people do when they're on a pleasure boat together. During the off-board excursions, they huddle with their countrymen and either ignore us or shoot us looks of disdain. More Canadian invisibility arrives via the tour guides, who constantly point out Americanisms to their guests – a U.S. embassy here, a bridge named after JFK there, the former home of the guy who designed the Statue of Liberty. Americans are on a constant drip-feed of their own cultural fodder. That's why we won the quiz – as the saying goes, Canadians know about the world; Americans only know about themselves. Here's the thing: It's not enough for Canadians to buy ABA (anything but American), we need to work on self-belief and entrepreneurship. We haven't promoted our country or culture abroad as vociferously or aggressively as we could, believing that polite and passive would win the day. How's that been working out for us? As a Canadian living in Britain, I've witnessed the fallout. We are a ghost nation beyond our borders. I had to remind an otherwise educated English twentysomething where exactly Canada was on a map. It's humbling given the rhetoric that 'Canada matters on the world stage.' What stage? We can't even get verbal support from the Commonwealth or England when it matters. They snickered when our PM was called 'governor,' and our sovereignty was bullied. They thought it was a joke. Look at them scrambling now. Still, why have we assumed that the world knows who we are? Each week I leaf through the British newspapers and see the same dull tourism ads for Niagara Falls and the Rocky Mountaineer that I've seen for the last two decades. Where's the nightlife of Canada's cities? The picturesque Newfoundland villages? The Inuit arts and awesome Northern landscapes? The architectural and cultural charm of Quebec? Where are the theatres, galleries, literary festivals and vineyards? I'd suggest our tourism ads include shopping as a visitor activity (our dollar being a bargain) but we've shamefully cross-border shopped so much that we've lost our signature department stores, having sold most of them to the highest (often American) bidder. Nice one. Is no one minding our commercial legacy? It's time to step up. We need to be seen as a country on the rise, as well as one that gets involved. Yes to increasing our defence spending, but also to elbowing in to some of the world's ongoing conflicts and helping to mediate their end. Why do we always leave this task to the U.S.? Then there's the lack of overseas trade. Aluminum and steel, sure, but what about wine? There's no end of Australian, New Zealand and American wines on the shelves of British grocery stores, but nothing from Canada. No one in Britain is even aware of Canadian viticulture. Let's get those bottles overseas. It's all very well to wear your 'Never 51' shirt, or to post your Canuck creds on Instagram, or to boycott Netflix and Amazon, but it's time to think bigger, bolder. Time to make a splash. If our efforts are rebuffed south of the border, big deal. There are other countries in this world to woo. Why do we still measure Canadian success against our neighbour's barometer? It's obvious by now that big isn't always best. Back on board our cruise boat, the froideur continues and mystifies my group. Did we belittle their leader on national television, as Donald Trump did ours? Did we threaten their sovereignty? Upend their trade deals? No. They started it. And it sounds like a playground spat until you understand that it's moved into gaslighting territory: We are somehow the enemy. This is the strategy of their leader: Drop the stink bomb and blame the other guy. He's told/signalled/tweeted to his nation that Canadians are lazy, do-nothing freeloaders. Of course it's a lie, but try convincing a boatload of Americans of their country's misguided path, a group who've dined on a century of obsequiousness that the world – including Canada – has fed them. The water might be choppy, but it's time we charted our own course, and make waves that count.
Globe and Mail
a day ago
- Globe and Mail
Whether shooting for the fairway or Instagram, Mac Boucher always takes the creative approach
If you were to ask Mac Boucher how he's managed to become – by one metric, at least – the most popular Canadian golfer at PGA events without actually being a part of the PGA Tour, he'll demur and say something about just knowing how to shoot videos that look great on Instagram. 'Everyone and their mother's doing social media now. I think I just got in at the right time and then stayed consistent, and I think I just have a good eye for it,' he said earlier this week, sitting in the media tent during a rare moment of downtime before the Canadian Open kicked off and he had to go feed the Instagram beast some more. Surrounded by a crowd, Boucher, by nature an introvert, will mock his shot choices as 'real stupid,' insist he's incapable of hitting a draw – a shot with a gentle arc – and when someone suggests he's like the Babe Ruth of golf because he'll occasionally just point at an obstacle – say, a stand of trees that would scare away most pros – and then slice his ball clear over or right through it, he'll quip: 'Yes, minus the talent.' That collision of self-effacement and daring – and, to be sure, an understanding of how to shoot cinematic videos that pop off the screen – has brought Boucher (rhymes with 'voucher'), 35, almost 600,000 followers on Instagram, more than any other Canadian golfer, as well as tens of thousands more on YouTube and TikTok. His sponsors include TaylorMade, Primo Golf Apparel and Adidas, which set him up last month to give lessons on stance and swing to Super Bowl-winning quarterback Patrick Mahomes. This weekend, fans watching the Open on TSN will see Boucher show off his sense of humour in a fun spot for BMW. (In a nod to the shot for which he is best known, the car in the ad bears the vanity plate: SLING KNG). He recently struck a partnership with Tim Hortons. Boucher describes all of these as 'pinch me' moments, lifetime dreams come true, but they're tinged by the dark chapter in his life that first spurred him to pick up a club in his late teens. Golf is nothing if not a sport that teaches resilience in the face of constant (often self-inflicted) misfortune. Boucher has embraced that fact, making a virtue of his own imperfections as a player instead of fighting against them. He grew up in Uxbridge, Ont., a small town of rolling green just north of Toronto, in constant motion: playing hockey, swimming, competing in triathlons. At 17, swimming began to give him debilitating headaches; doctors found a benign cyst in his brain. An operation could have left him with balance and vision problems, so he opted against surgical intervention and pivoted to a sport that, as he said, 'wasn't so hard on the noggin,' and would still allow him to indulge his competitive nature. In January, 2021, while in Dubai avoiding the COVID lockdowns back home, Boucher began posting to Instagram. In one 14-second video, his drive leaps out of the left side of the frame and then eventually lopes back in and skitters toward the flag in the middle of the frame, just missing it. The clip was shared tens of thousands of times, including by some big accounts, and his follower count began to climb. Since then, Boucher said, he's posted two to three videos each day without fail, fuelling a steady (albeit exhausting) increase of followers who watch him jetting around the world from one gorgeous course to another, filming improbable shots against jaw-dropping backgrounds. 'The creativity in the shots – it's kind of the new age of golf, right?' said Jamie Miller, the president of the New York State Golf Association, who was part of Boucher's fivesome at the Championship Pro Am on Wednesday. 'It's different than the traditional stuff, which is great for the growth of the game.' When he spoke, Miller had just broken his driver, a Callaway, on the first tee, and Boucher had offered to hook him up with a TaylorMade club. Boucher called his on-site TaylorMade rep and the new driver arrived in time for the fourth hole. His videographer, a friend who trails Boucher whenever he hits the course, filmed him handing the club to Miller: If a marketing moment falls in a forest and no one is around to record it and post it to social media, would anybody hear? Lately, Boucher and his videographer and another friend have been working on a series of longer-form videos for YouTube, inspired by the constant requests he gets from guys to recommend places for them to go on trips with their buddies. Rob LeClair, an executive with Staples Canada who was finishing up a round at the Pro Am with Ryo Hisatsune, approached Boucher for a selfie. 'I watch his YouTube, I watch his Instagram videos, I watch all of it. It's so fun,' he said. But Boucher's appeal runs deeper than that, LeClair explained. 'The way he thinks and sees things that other people don't, like: 'I can hit it through those trees.' And then he swings it around 100 yards! It's just mind-blowing to see.' 'He has a different approach to being successful. If you relate that to real life – you don't have to hit it straight down the middle, you can hit anything and still be successful.' A little while later, Boucher's caddie opened an app to demonstrate that philosophy in concrete terms. On the fourth hole, a 158-yard par 3, the pro in the group, Patrick Fishburn, had shot an elegant draw off the tee that curved 18 feet left to right. Boucher's drive off the same tee went 197 feet left to right – and ended up in almost the same spot. 'For me, it's understanding what my body's capable of,' Boucher explained, back at the media tent. 'It's just cause and effect,' and knowing how to incorporate his natural tendency to shoot sling shots. 'I think most people could probably benefit from that, instead of trying to be something they're not on the golf course.' Though he doesn't play a traditional style of golf, Boucher insists he's a traditionalist 'in the sense that I'm very much a golf nerd. I love to learn things, and the numbers – I geek out about that type of stuff, which is what allows me to hit the shots I'm hitting. Taylor Pendrith rises above soggy morning course at RBC Canadian Open 'I do appreciate that the new generation is YouTube golf and that's what's getting eyes on golf, but I still think the PGA Tour is what I am interested in.' Even so, he acknowledges that golf as it is being played on the tour is too slow. 'Who has the attention span – not to mention the time – to sit on a couch and watch a six-hour round of golf,' he said. 'Unless it's the Masters and it's happening one time a year and you just don't want it to end? 'I'm someone who loves going out at 7 p.m. with a buddy and ripping around in an hour and a half, 18 holes.' He'd tried to qualify for this year's Canadian Open but he's been dealing with an injured right thumb which, he said, he's 'torn all the tendons on – there's nothing really holding any more.' Opinion: Love them or loathe them, sports media keep athletes like Rory McIlroy relevant If he has surgery to repair it, he'll be out for 10 months: Not really an option at the moment, given his commitments and the need to build up his content on YouTube. And since blowing up on Instagram, he's had to steel himself against the inevitable haters. 'It's arguably more pressure now to play tournaments, because there are all these people that are just watching and waiting to pounce on you if you don't play well,' he said. By the time the Open draws to a close on Sunday, Boucher will be gone, off to P.E.I. for a couple of appearances. Earlier this year, he was back and forth between North America and Australia and New Zealand three times in two weeks. It's a lot, he acknowledges. 'I'd like to kind of settle down and not have the consistent suitcase life,' he said. 'I've created a decent-sized brand for myself where I can say no, which is nice.' Still, he admits, 'I don't really think much in the future. It's the way I've always been. I probably should, but it's worked this far.'
