It's been difficult for truly mundane, pointless celebrity content to break through in the past few weeks - trending names have generally been those who have engaged (or not engaged) with Black Lives Matter, as the protests against systemic racism continue worldwide.
Really, there was only ever one woman who could make people drop everything just to think about her - and that's Princess Diana.
And so the news that arch-millennial Kristen Stewart had been cast as the people's princess in a new film managed to capture vast swathes of the internet when it was announced last Thursday. Diana was best known for her sparkling charisma; Kristen Stewart is mostly known for looking absolutely miserable and/or furious.
The film "covers a critical weekend in the Nineties when Diana decided her marriage to Prince Charles wasn't working..." Which, to be fair, was probably a miserable and infuriating time.
It's to be called Spencer, a title which promises a tale of powerful female individuality and self-actualisation for a generation brought up on Spice Girls feminism. Yes - the casting decision and title tell us they're counting on the millennial dollar.
One can imagine the conversation in the casting room... "We need to engage the millennials, but not in a way that will overtly put off their parents. Obviously a black actress would be ideal, but it feels a bit … on the nose? How about Kristen Stewart, she's gay!"
Twitter reckoned she wasn't 'regal' enough, not 'clean' enough, not good enough at acting. But the more I thought about it (why couldn't I stop thinking about it?), the more it made sense.
Kristen was the people's princess for a time in late-Noughties pop culture, as sexy vampire Robert Pattinson's love on-screen and off.
They were a bona fide Hollywood power couple, and the tabloids couldn't get enough; she later said: "We were turned into these characters and placed into this ridiculous comic book."
Pattinson is essentially La La Land's Prince Charles - a thriving outlier who's definitely royalty, but no one's quite sure why.
Perhaps the casting is a kind of millennial wish fulfilment: we would like to imagine Diana with the divorce well behind her would have been like Kristen: photographed living her best life, with a difficult haircut, holding hands with a string of beautiful women, and exuding strong DGAF energy.
Kristen, scowling or no, is the best-case scenario for a public break-up.
I don't know why last week was the tipping point, maybe Gen Z's last straw was the millennial reaction to JK Rowling going full TERF: as a generation we seemed more upset about Harry Potter being 'ruined' for us, than the real people hurt by Rowling et al's rhetoric. And there really are few things less charming than millennials talking at length about Harry Potter.
Or perhaps it's because, stuck at home, we've all been forced onto the internet together in close virtual quarters for too long.
Anyway, last week the generation below us, Gen Z, waged war on millennials the best way they know how: TikTok.
#GenZBullyMillennials gained traction quickly, the platform had been primed for it; the influx of quarantined millennials onto the hitherto Gen Z site caused tensions. Millennials are judgemental, we can't help it - and it seems we were surprised by how slutty and mentally ill our youngers seemed to be, and made it known. And then we clogged their app with our irrelevant content.
A good example of the trend is captioned "this is a millenials (sic) hate account [heart]" and is in German - which doesn't obscure its message. Some phrases jump out in his mirthful impression: "Ich bin sooo a 90's kid!" "Ich bin Gryffindor!" "Pizza is bae!" "Wine O'Clock!" "rose all day!" and finally, "Shut up, we hate you!!"
It's hilarious. But I would think that, because I'm a millennial and millennials love Gen Zs - we're there cheering them along: "Tell us the one about the avocado toast!" It must be infuriating.
We had assumed with customary arrogance that they liked us. Or if they didn't, that they were at least on our side - much in the way that we didn't have any strong feelings about Gen X, just above us. We let them enjoy their U2 and patio pizza ovens, and turn a benevolent blind eye to the 45-year-old Karens, labelling them boomers.
Gen Z are holding no such punches, and it's absolutely delightful. At this stage, even we're sick of ourselves. A key issue the kids are taking is how we took 'adult' and turned it into a verb, "grow up already!" the 16-year-olds tell us. The other key takeaways are that we drink a lot and are overly enthusiastic about our childhood entertainment: "I think every generation can agree that millennials were a mistake".
It's a damning review - classic load of Ravenclaws.
It's difficult to say why, in this time of hyper-vigilance around current and historic problematic behaviours and entertainment, that Channel 4 decided to do a week of re-runs of the 'best bits' of arguably the most problematic and white television of the age, Big Brother.
I suppose I thought that we'd decided, collectively, to pretend Big Brother never existed. We just decided not to dwell on the fact that we used to sit glued to people being quite so frankly ritually humiliated, bullied, and manipulated (while practically levitating on free booze) in such excruciating, slow detail. There's something surreal about watching a smiling Davina wistfully say of one breakout contestant: "She was an innocent."
Gen Zs who tuned in might have a lot more sympathy for the millennial fixation on the Nineties when they saw what happened in 2000 with the advent of Big Brother - at a very formative time in our young lives.
A lot of the 'best bits' consisted of sexual interactions that make Love Island look like a teddy bear's picnic, and contestants who wouldn't have made it past ITV's first psychological assessment.
If anything, the trip back in time was educational. And it captures a moment when the minutiae of other people's lives was still unknowable and fascinating, where being able to watch how a stranger cooks their eggs was new and thrilling, and being able to hear what different people talked about was exciting. Imagine.