A concise guide to the aura and how it is lost. Let us refrain from commenting.

When the ‘aura battles’ – the aura battles in Paris, Milan and Rome – first appeared, despite my lack of initial understanding, I did not experience the typical Emily Brontë-on-the-moors sensation while scrolling through Instagram; instead, it felt more like Tom Thumb in the woods with his pebbles. I had some clues. This was thanks to the fact that, over the past year, I had heard the word ‘aura’ being used several times. At first it was like ‘cringe’ – though that is a term so outdated it has become unmentionable – but take note: not beyond redemption. In ‘aura’, in fact, there is room for the transformation of ‘cringe’; one simply needs to seize the right moment.

However, at home I would occasionally hear someone exclaim: ‘aura’ (never referring to me), and I linked this to the fact that one of my children was telling the other about a clever reply they’d given to someone, whereupon the other would say admiringly: ‘aura points’. One day I suggested that my daughter send a message (not call) to someone for advice on a school matter—I was eager to offer guidance myself but was not permitted to—and she narrowed her eyes and replied: ‘Brother, I can’t lose my aura like that.’ In other words, she could not ask a question that would place her in a position to lose her charisma.

Aura is the charisma that surrounds you – that is, which you exude – but it is also the image that others perceive of you. You can enhance it through your actions, but you can also damage it with a wrong remark or an awkward gesture. If I may speak of my own time, back then the loss of aura was called ‘making a fool of yourself’, but it was less complicated than that. Imagine you are in a park with your dog: a group of young people is playing football, and the ball rolls toward you. The moment is delicate; picture it in slow motion. The ball approaches; you have your hands in your pockets, your dog on a lead, and your phone in your hand. If you use your feet to pass the ball back with a fluid, natural movement, those are definitely ‘aura points’. So far, so good. But if you miss the kick, or move without any flair, if you drop your phone or the lead gets tangled up, the verdict is brutal: ‘aura loss’. ‘Aura loss’ is pretty much the worst thing that can happen to you in life – that is, in this youth that’s trying to tell adults: stay out of it, you’re not like us. Stay out of it; we’re young and you most certainly aren’t.

I am pleased to have realised that ‘aura’ is charisma. However, as I explained to my mother, ‘aura’ is much more than that; it is the very symbol of performance, albeit in an ironic sense that is constantly evolving, because what was once considered cool quickly becomes cringe or mainstream, and it can no longer be used – so after a while it is rediscovered, appreciated anew, deployed in a different way, and that thing becomes ‘aura’. That is why aura battles are also fought using old moves that became famous on TikTok and have since become caricatures of themselves. For example: in the aura battles of late, there is a Fortnite dance – that is, a dance people used to do when they won the video game. Fortnite is an old, outdated video game, so the dance has become cringe. ‘And now it’s aura.’

It means there’s always a chance, but it also means one cannot cling to anything, because everything changes quickly; a trend lasts a year or three weeks. A battle lasts a day. And then, immediately: aura loss. How long does a public embarrassment last? It depends on the aura one had built up. Let us stay out of it.