I would hate to have to launch a new product in 2026. Imagine a scenario where you’ve developed some ingenious new widget that costs millions of dollars to design, produce and bring to market. You could have quit numerous times. You probably wanted to, because there’s a new season of The Traitors and you have to catch up. But you never surrendered. You persevered, and your brilliant invention is ready for the world. All you have to do now is convince a society besieged by a nonstop cavalcade of crises to care. If the US government could kindly stop sending paramilitary forces to occupy major cities, that would be great for my brand.
This is the predicament faced by poor Sydney Sweeney, the actor best known for HBO’s Euphoria and the recent film The Housemaid. This week, Sweeney debuted a new lingerie line called “Syrn”. I presume it’s meant to be pronounced “siren”, since that’s a suitably sultry-sounding name. Also, confusing, which might be part of the brilliant marketing plan behind the launch. If you baffle enough people, they’ll be sure to Google you to see what your damn problem is anyway. If I was the marketing lead on this project, I would have suggested “Syren”, since that at least has a real vowel in it, like most actual words. Unfortunately, “Syren” was the name of a Confederate blockade runner during the civil war, which we (and very particularly Sydney Sweeney) would probably want to avoid associating with.
The lingerie line emphasizes sizes for all body types, allowing women the freedom and comfort of bras that are designed for their physical realities. Sweeney issued a press release in which she said: “I wanted to create a place where women can move between all the different versions of who we are. I love working on cars, I go water skiing, I’ll dress up for the red carpet then go home to snuggle my dogs. I’m not one thing, no woman is.” I’m far from an expert here, so forgive me if I ask how often women go water skiing in lingerie? Perhaps I’m just not invited to these events.
Regardless of the state of my social calendar, these are noble goals, ones that I’m sure Sweeney legitimately cares about. She speaks eloquently in her statement about the frustrations of being a young woman unable to find undergarments that fit her properly. Unfortunately, the Black Mirror-style world we live in is dictated by attention and how much you can generate by endlessly pedaling on the metaphorical stationary bike of social media. On top of that desperation for “impressions” (the number of people not just interacting with your posts, but also just plain old looking at them for a split second), you throw on the variety of catastrophes that dominate the news cycle. Good luck releasing a movie about the horrific injustices of impersonal, dispassionate, AI law enforcement! I’ve gotten my fill from the real thing, thank you.
Now, try to launch a bra line fronted by a celebrity many of us got sick of around the time she was accused of advocating for eugenics in a jeans advert. Naturally, panic sets in, and the need for a high-value stunt becomes paramount. Sydney Sweeney’s stunt of choice was heading up to the Hollywood sign in the hills of Los Angeles, climbing it and decorating the area with bras. The Hollywood chamber of commerce has voiced displeasure; according to the Los Angeles Times, Sweeney had permission to film in the area, but filming the sign itself requires a license – and climbing it isn’t permitted.
The days of taking out a glossy ad in a magazine to announce a new venture are over. You have to do things of questionable legality to get anyone to notice you. It’s not enough to be a successful movie star with a massive social media following. You have to leave your underwear lying around in public. I’ve tried that, and let me tell you, it only gets attention from your local mental health service providers.
As you all know, I’m not famous enough to do such things. I’m just a regular guy who orders fast food through a smartphone app so I don’t have to put clothes on to go to a drive-thru. But I still need attention. I need to promote this article, so people read it. I write about things like Sydney Sweeney’s underwear in order to ensure you’ll notice. I wake up every morning hoping someone will care about what I’m doing. If they don’t, I’ll get washed away in the tide of the numerous, far more important things that are happening on the planet every hour.
In that respect, how different am I from Sydney Sweeney, or any other glittering media personality? I might not be sharing a yacht with Jeff Bezos or bathing in hundred-dollar bills, but I have the same inherent need to keep up with the ebb and flow of the modern world’s unquenchable thirst for eyeballs and earholes. She perpetrated this stunt for the purposes of getting people like me to write about it, which in turn hopefully encourages you, the audience, to buy her lingerie. I’ve been ensnared by the same cruel bear trap of need that restricts us all. The only question is, will I ever become desperate enough to saw off my own leg to escape?