It should come as little surprise that Amazon collects a vast array of data about its users based on their everyday purchases. If a customer routinely orders bulk quantities of cat litter, the e-commerce giant will naturally infer that they share their home with feline companions. Similarly, purchasing frequent batches of anti-acne skin care products might lead Amazon to deduce that the buyer is prone to sudden breakouts. Even though consumers are generally aware that platforms customize digital shopping experiences based on historical data, it still manages to come as a distinct shock when those invisible calculations are laid out plainly in a convenient, itemized list—especially when those algorithmic assumptions cross the line into the uncomfortably intimate.
That realization hit home for one social media user recently, sparking a viral wave of curiosity and mild existential dread across the internet. A user on Meta’s Threads platform stumbled upon a hidden section of her Amazon account settings where the shopping monolith explicitly details who it believes the customer to be. Alongside fairly benign corporate assumptions—such as "Shops from women’s departments" and "Probably owns a Shark robot vacuum"—she discovered a far more specific, personal deduction: Amazon boldly assumed that she "has flat buttocks."
The candid revelation quickly resonated with millions of shoppers online. "I stumbled upon a page of assumptions that Amazon has made about me based on my purchases and I’m literally speechless," wrote the customer, who posts under the handle @fangirlinmegan, on Threads. "I mean it ain’t wrong but damn did you have to call me out like that?"
In less than a day, the post exploded in popularity, garnering over a million views and triggering a massive influx of curious consumers rushing to check what their own personalized Amazon profiles might secretly reveal about their bodies, habits, and lifestyles.
For desktop users, this revealing data page can be located by navigating the account settings menu. By hovering over the greeting in the upper right corner and clicking "Account" under the primary section, users can access their ordering and shopping preferences. Under the "Ordering and shopping preferences" heading, selecting "Shopping preferences" brings up a page where users can manually input personal details like shoe size, specific interests, and dietary restrictions. However, rather than updating lifestyle choices, scrolling to the bottom of this page reveals a blue hyperlinked option labeled "Manage your information." Clicking that link unveils the internal dossier that Amazon has quietly compiled on the user. Mobile app users can reach the exact same destination by tapping the menu icon, navigating to Account, selecting Shopping preferences, and finally tapping About you.
Exploring these profiles reveals a fascinating window into how algorithms interpret human behavior. For many users, the algorithmic deductions are remarkably accurate, if occasionally uncanny. For instance, Amazon has correctly gleaned that certain shoppers are individuals who practice photography, play collectible card games, and are deeply invested in the Apple ecosystem. In some cases, the platform even manages a bit of digital flattery, noting that a customer reads diverse non-fiction—prompting the reasonable internal response that one is, in fact, an open-minded intellectual with a healthy thirst for knowledge.
Other observers and tech journalists have found that Amazon accurately cataloged their personal affinities for vinyl records, fine ceramics, a distinct preference for natural materials in home decor, and clothing that prioritizes comfort above all else. While none of these professional colleagues uncovered anything quite as startling or startlingly blunt as the deduction regarding flat buttocks, the original Threads user sensibly deduced that her specific algorithmic label was likely the direct result of purchasing "butt scrunch leggings."
Incidents like this highlight a broader, ongoing cultural unease regarding the sheer volume of data technology companies accumulate about everyday citizens. Modern tech platforms know an immense amount about our private lives, and it can be jarring to realize just how closely automated systems are paying attention to the minutiae of how we navigate and utilize digital platforms. We live in an era characterized by alarming, pervasive forms of digital surveillance, ranging from algorithmic profiling to automated public monitoring. Yet, amidst these weighty societal concerns about data privacy, there is almost a strange, dark comfort in discovering that a massive global corporation has dedicated its immense computational power to evaluating the physical contours of its customer base—even if it occasionally results in a digital callout that leaves shoppers speechless.
