A growing number of young Canadian artists and writers are embracing the production of printed zines, signaling a shift away from digital platforms toward analog creativity. This movement reflects a desire to counteract the overwhelming and often impersonal nature of social media and digital content consumption.

Toronto-based artist Chelsea Watt, who has been creating zines since 2013, is among those advocating for paper-based, self-published publications. Watt and her peers prioritize small print runs targeted at niche but engaged audiences, contrasting sharply with the influencer-driven demand for mass followings on digital platforms. For Watt, zines offer a form of resistance to the algorithms that flood feeds with ads and irrelevant images, providing instead a space for imperfection and intimate, tactile experiences that are lacking online.

Historically, zines have served as important tools for marginalized communities, including feminist, Black, Indigenous, queer, and other groups, to express identity and resistance. This heritage was highlighted in the Vancouver Art Gallery’s 2024 exhibition, “Copy Machine Manifestos: Artists Who Make Zines,” which traced the medium’s continued relevance. Veteran Canadian zine creators from the 1990s and 2000s, such as Julie Doucet and the queer punk collective behind J.D.s, helped establish the foundations of this culture.

The contemporary appeal is partly rooted in the appeal of DIY aesthetics and the embrace of human imperfections. Watt’s past zines, including collaborative works like “Undressed” and critical projects like “Mood Tracking App,” reflect a deliberate departure from polished digital campaigns, often rejecting high-gloss visuals and artificial intelligence influences.

The resurgence of zines has influenced mainstream industries as well. Beauty brands like MAC and media outlets including I-D magazine have drawn from zine culture for creative inspiration. This spring, I-D published a 50-page physical zine with South African musician Tyla on the cover, described as a dedicated beauty publication in tactile form, which quickly sold out. MAC has revived its former paper zine format online after a hiatus, highlighting its historic use as an insider guide for makeup artists.

The analog turn is also observed among younger generations. British-American former fashion editor Paula James-Martinez noted growing skepticism toward social media and artificial intelligence among tweens. Her observations led to the development of Cuqui, a teen magazine launching in January that emphasizes reader participation, tactile creativity, and a DIY approach.

Toronto’s Zine Dream art fair, initiated in 2007 by Laura McCoy and Jesjit Gill, exemplifies the grassroots scene’s vibrancy. Its 2026 edition, scheduled for August 15 at Parkdale Hall, attracted over 260 applicants, including the Shanghai-based collective 51 Personae. Organizers emphasize the value of personal interaction with creators, a quality they say is increasingly rare amid the rise of AI and commercialization in art.

Educational institutions and libraries across Canada are also supporting the zine renaissance. The Toronto Public Library, University of British Columbia, Toronto Zine Library, and Montreal’s ARCMTL have incorporated zine-making into their programs and collections, preserving and legitimizing the art form.

The medium’s enduring cultural significance extends beyond print, as showcased by the documentary “Beyond The Duplex Planet,” which premiered at South by Southwest in March. The film chronicles the work of American artist David Greenberger, who began a zine in the late 1970s based on conversations with seniors, illustrating how zines have long served as intimate records of diverse human experiences.

This renewed interest in zines underscores their ongoing role as accessible, intentional forms of expression that resist digital saturation and foster community through tangible connection.