Back in the early 2010s — not long after the internet fell in love with the bizarre art of planking — an even stranger trend suddenly appeared: “Owling.” And yes, it was exactly what it sounded like. People crouched like owls in the most random, impractical, and downright ridiculous places they could find… and documented every moment.
Office desks, supermarket shelves, car roofs, stair railings, kitchen counters — nothing was off-limits. If you could perch on it without breaking a bone, someone probably “owled” on it. The goal wasn’t elegance or athleticism. The whole point was to look like a confused night creature caught in broad daylight, staring blankly into the camera.
For a few surreal weeks, social media feeds were flooded with humans squatting on objects never meant to support a perched mammal. Friends challenged each other to owl in stranger spots. Memes exploded. News outlets scratched their heads. Parents wondered what was wrong with their children. And just as the world started to understand the joke, the trend disappeared as quickly as it arrived.
Like many viral fads from that chaotic era — Tebowing, Batmanning, Vadering — Owling lasted barely a month. But it perfectly captured the spirit of early social media: a time when people didn’t overthink content, chase algorithms, or curate aesthetics. They simply did weird things for the joy of it… and for a photo that made strangers laugh.
A brief, bizarre moment in internet history — and honestly, one of the most delightfully pointless.
Office desks, supermarket shelves, car roofs, stair railings, kitchen counters — nothing was off-limits. If you could perch on it without breaking a bone, someone probably “owled” on it. The goal wasn’t elegance or athleticism. The whole point was to look like a confused night creature caught in broad daylight, staring blankly into the camera.
For a few surreal weeks, social media feeds were flooded with humans squatting on objects never meant to support a perched mammal. Friends challenged each other to owl in stranger spots. Memes exploded. News outlets scratched their heads. Parents wondered what was wrong with their children. And just as the world started to understand the joke, the trend disappeared as quickly as it arrived.
Like many viral fads from that chaotic era — Tebowing, Batmanning, Vadering — Owling lasted barely a month. But it perfectly captured the spirit of early social media: a time when people didn’t overthink content, chase algorithms, or curate aesthetics. They simply did weird things for the joy of it… and for a photo that made strangers laugh.
A brief, bizarre moment in internet history — and honestly, one of the most delightfully pointless.
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