How Digital Culture is Shaping the Female Voice
By Wim Langedijk for HURS
How Digital Culture is Shaping the Female Voice
HUR Reads is our definitive shortlist of the most prominent articles from around the web.
By HURS Team
1
Has the Internet Changed How Women Sound?
Susan Dominus’ article explores how digital culture and technology have shaped modern perceptions and expressions of the female voice. From early telephone operators to today’s AI assistants like Siri, Alexa, and TikTok’s Jessie, the female voice has been programmed to sound pleasant, unflappable, and service-oriented. This historical trend reflects deep-rooted societal expectations that women’s voices be accommodating and non-confrontational. The rise of synthetic female voices creates a feedback loop, influencing how real women speak and are perceived online. While some content creators adopt these artificial voices as shields from scrutiny or harassment, this phenomenon also underscores ongoing tensions around gender, agency, and vocal identity in the digital age. Ultimately, the article reveals how technology perpetuates cultural norms about femininity, raising questions about voice, power, and representation in a world increasingly mediated by machines.
T MAGAZINE
Joyce Joumaa and Rhea Dillon took home the 2025 Baloise Art Prize at Art Basel’s Statements sector, each receiving a prize, and museum acquisitions by MMK Frankfurt and MUDAM Luxembourg. Joumaa, a Lebanese-Canadian artist, exhibited Periodic Sights, using illuminated fuse boxes to display photos of Beirut and Tripoli, symbolizing Lebanon’s chronic power shortages and their societal impact. Dillon, a London-based artist, presented Leaning Figures, resin-cast crystal plates embedded with Jamaican soil and molasses, framed in Sapele mahogany—referencing colonial trade and slave ships. Her work explores Caribbean-British identity and historical memory. The prize, awarded by a jury of curators from major European museums, recognizes emerging artists with impactful, socially resonant work.
ARTSY
Fashion’s latest muses aren’t models—they’re authors. Novelist Zadie Smith fronts Bottega Veneta’s anniversary campaign, Ottessa Moshfegh brings edge to Prada, and Patrick Radden Keefe suits up for J.Crew. This literary inspiration recalls Joan Didion’s iconic Céline moment and reflects fashion’s growing desire for deeper cultural connection. As luxury shifts from pure aesthetics to storytelling, writers offer authenticity and intellectual credibility. While some worry this risks diluting a writer’s image, many see it as a chance to broaden their reach and blur the line between intellect and style. Fashion, it seems, is ready to read between the lines.
GLOSSY
In an interview with A Rabbit's Foot, Amanda Lear reflects on her multifaceted life—from her early days as Salvador Dalí's muse to her transformation into a disco icon. Despite being trained at the École des Beaux-Arts, Lear was initially hesitant to embrace her modeling career, viewing it as a means to support her artistic ambitions. Her encounter with Dalí in the 1960s led to a close, albeit unconventional, mentorship. Dalí, skeptical of female painters, discouraged her artistic pursuits, yet their bond deepened over time. Lear spent summers at Dalí's home in Cadaqués, Spain, and even dabbled in painting under his guidance. Her foray into music began unexpectedly in Munich, where a late-night recording session resulted in a disco debut that launched her seven-year contract with a label. Today, Lear continues to explore various artistic avenues, driven by an enduring curiosity and a belief in the serendipity of life's journey.
A RABBIT’S FOOT
Celine Song’s Materialists and Sean Baker’s Anora both explore the uneasy entanglement of love and wealth in a post–fairy tale world. In Materialists, Lucy, a matchmaker for the ultra-rich, navigates romance between a perfect financier (Pedro Pascal) and her scrappy ex (Chris Evans). Though the film critiques transactional love, Lucy’s final choice feels forced, never quite selling the rejection of luxury. Anora takes a darker turn: a stripper marries a billionaire heir, only to be cast aside and humiliated, punished not for materialism but for believing in love. While Song’s film is playful and Baker’s is brutal, both ultimately deliver lessons in “desire didacticism.” Their heroines are expected to renounce dreams of upward mobility, yet neither film convincingly imagines love unshackled from class. Instead, romance is reduced to a moral test—worthy, perhaps, but missing the emotional complexity and fire that make the best love stories unforgettable.