are we nearing the end of influencer culture?

Impending recession. Overconsumption. Living beyond our means. Credit card debt. 

All of these alarming phrases frequent my social media feeds, reminding me of the impending economic crisis I will face after my graduation this May. If that’s not enough, I am reminded to shop consciously, resist the temptation to buy the newest Aritizia dupes on Amazon, and learn to build up my credit score so I can hopefully afford to buy a home someday. And to make it worse, I can’t even go to Shaw’s without spending $8 on a carton of eggs. 

These very real issues have even found themselves shaping pop culture trends, and what is being talked about on social media. For anyone who watched the Golden Globes, you would know that the talk of the fashion scene the next day was that lavish necklaces are apparently “out” this season. The lack of jewelry is apparently signaling the rise of “recession-core,” a playful term dubbed by journalists to describe the rising fashion trends of minimalism and modesty. 

This trend has even manifested itself in less-existential ways. I’ve come across hundreds of TikToks on my “for you” page discussing the concept of “de-influencing.” This movement is encouraging Americans to stop following short-lived trends, overconsuming products that most of us truly don’t need, and stop letting social media dictate every purchase. 

Disclaimer, I am probably one of the most easily influenced people out there. I am not a de-influencer. I am a shopaholic at heart, although I definitely do not have the means to be one. I frequently say I’m going to stop spending money, but will find myself scoping out the new arrivals from Sephora and Urban Outfitters. In fact, one of my resolutions for 2023 is to be more mindful with my spending, especially with products that are marketed through the use of social media.

I guarantee most of you know how this works. TikTok after TikTok, you see someone saying “run to Target to get this Aritizia loungeset dupe,” and not even two weeks later, it is sold out in every store. One makeup influencer that I follow actually sold out a Huda Beauty face powder after raving about it in one post, and I haven’t seen it restocked since. Girls have been bashing influencer Alix Earle for selling out many different makeup products, simply just because she uses them in her routine.

Again, no hate to these influencers, I get they’re just doing their job. However, average people like you and me are also partially to blame, because we fall for the cycle anyway. Perfect example – I left my HydroFlask at my college apartment over winter break. So, I’ve been forced to use my marble-printed Swell water bottle (circa 2018). Since I’ve started using it again, I realized that it is a perfectly good water bottle. It holds a lot, doesn’t leak, looks cute, and most importantly, does its job! Why are we convincing ourselves that we all need a brand new Stanley cup, when I’m sure that the same expensive water bottles we all used in high school are successfully doing the exact same thing? 

I’ve also seen this de-influencing concept extend into conversations about how trend cycles affect personal style. We all know the word “cheugy.” If you know me personally, you would know I hate that word with a burning passion. Why are we trying to bash people’s personal styles just because they don’t follow a short-lived trend cycle? 

I think if the common consumer picks up on this “de-influencing” bandwagon, there will be better opportunities for one to learn about their personal style. Instead of running to grab the fast-fashion, going-out top that everyone is buying from Princess Polly, being de-influenced can give you the opportunity to decide whether or not that top truly fits your personal style. Are you buying it because you truly like it? Or are you buying it simply because it’s a dupe of something Emma Chamberlain wore in her recent Instagram post?

How have I been working on “de-influencing” in 2023? While this is still a major work in progress, I have started using a classic strategy to minimize my impulsive purchases. If I see a social media post, website, etc. that is “influencing” me to buy a product I would enjoy, I usually take a screenshot of the item and leave it in my camera roll. If I find myself still thinking about that image in a week, then I’ll pull the trigger and make the purchase. More often than not though, I tend to completely forget about it, and find the picture in my camera roll weeks later, and laugh about how I truly thought I “needed” the item.

While this is definitely not a fool-proof way to break the pattern, it has done a lot more good than bad. So, the next time you scroll past a TikTok encouraging you to buy Drunk Elephant’s newest skincare product, or use an influencer’s discount code for pre-workout powder, I encourage you to be “de-influenced.” Who knows, maybe you’ll find some new secret products on your own that deserve ALL the hype.