Ah, the Great Fire of London. A cataclysmic event that roasted its way through the ol' city from the 2nd to the 5th of September, 1666. It was a time when people relied on whispers, cries, and perhaps the odd frantic pigeon for their news updates. But what if, and here comes the twist, Instagram had been around back then? Imagine the city ablaze, and instead of ash, we had a cloud of hashtags!
An influencer’s inferno
Picture this: Samuel Pepys, the diarist extraordinaire, takes on a new persona. His new alias? Sam_the_City_Scribe, naturally, complete with blue tick verification. Now, in this alternate universe, Pepys would swap parchment for pixels, capturing the fiery chaos through a sepia-toned lens. "Flames hotter than freshly baked Chelsea buns! 🥖🔥 #GreatFire #LondonInFlames," his captions might read.
As Pepys goes live on Instagram, we’d witness his frantic yet oddly comedic attempts to document everything in real-time. "Oops, nearly singed my periwig there! #FireFashion #OopsDidn'tMeanToTagLondonEye," he quips, narrowly dodging falling embers.
Fire selfies and ash-tags
Amidst the cinders, enterprising Londoners would surely seize the opportunity to showcase their survival skills, one #FireSelfie at a time. Imagine the plucky baker from Pudding Lane, the original accidental arsonist, posing in front of his bakery's familiar blackened facade. "From buns to blazes, keeping it hot since '66! #SorryNotSorry #GreatBreadFire"
Meanwhile, celebrities of the 17th century, well, the upper crust of society, at least, would showcase their opulent lifestyles as they vacate their palatial residencies. Lady Covent Garden, for one, might share a glamorous shot of her escaping via gondola on the Thames, captioned: "The only acceptable way to flee a burning metropolis. #FireEscapeOfTheYear"
Feel the burn (through filters)
Turning to the royal influence, the stress in Charles II's eyes is evident as he desperately wields a bucket in an attempt to douse the infernal mess. Yet, through the magic of Instagram filters, think Clarendon with a dash of X-Pro, the catastrophe looks stunningly picturesque. "When life gives you fire, be the water. 👑🐉 #KingInCrisis #BucketBrigadeGoals" would surely serve as his rallying cry post, subtly blended with a gelato ad placed by opportunistic gelaterias anticipating burnt out residents with sweet cravings.
In the world of Insta-commerce, savvy merchants seize the charred opportunity. Hats, dresses, and unmentionables rushed from bathhouses, preserved in fleeting glory within #InTheNickOfTime sale events, pioneered by St. Paul’s Cathedral Shop, "Before the Fire Sale Sale."
Instaworld dominion
In true social media style, the fire’s narrative would be crafted and shared in minutes, much like digital embers sprawling onto the feeds and stories of curious Londoners and amused Parisians. With each post, the community would virtually unite, slide into the DMs as it were, for mutual support and perhaps a cheeky exchange of gossip.
Analysis would flourish as savvy commentators like William Lilly, the renowned astrologer, would post weekly IGTV episodes, "London's future brighter than the flames? Long live the City v2.0."
Concluding the combustion
By the time the ashes settled, the Great Fire of London via Instagram would have left an indelible mark not just on stone but on the collective social consciousness, suckled upon a steady stream of filtered truth and creative exaggeration. We'd find Pepys at the heart of it all, scratching his ginger beard, now more worried about the number of likes on his posts than the literal caldera of destruction about him. Ah, how history blends with the whimsical swipe of a finger!
