1 week Ago
Influencers — those obnoxious (and increasingly) political hype beasts who've defined much of internet life in the last decade — may finally be going the way of the Apple Watch: once a flashy trendsetter, now a garish relic. When a jacked-up fitness bro went viral in late March for a video flaunting his daily six-hour morning saga of 4 a.m.
pushups, mineral water ice plunges, and banana peel facials, it was mocked into oblivion. Hipsters posted their own derisive morning routines, huffing on flavored vapes and chugging Red Bull; grannies filmed themselves putting in their dentures before settling in on the john. One man from India did his take: dunking his face in a bowl of chutney then hopping on the phone to scam Westerners for their banking info.
5 Influencer Ashton Hall recently raised eyebrows – and ire — with a video of his elaborate six-hour long morning ritual. @ashtonhallofficial / TikTok Frankly, even the most devoted followers are finally becoming fed up with just how fake influencing has become. Accounts like Instagram's Influencers In The Wild (now with 5.
2 million followers) became the first to gain popularity by sharing candid, alternate-angle videos taken of clout chasers doing their thing in public — usually exposing how staged and ridiculous they are. Recently, eight influencers in China contracted a foot fungus around the same time — it was later revealed they'd been sharing the same pair of Gucci tights for content where they pretend to be rich and glamorous. Internet sleuths have found fake private jet studios where influencers pay around $60 to rent the space to create polished illusions of private air travel.
And some luxury hotels have moved to ban influencers altogether, tired of them begging for free accommodations or pooling their money together to rent suites to stage their phony...
Chadwick Moore.
