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Texas | Culture

So… Influencers Lied to Us?

Anisya Nair Student Contributor, University of Texas - Austin
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Texas chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.

As the rest of us bid farewell to the app on our rectangle of sadness (for the less than 24 hours it was down), TikTok’s so-called “last week” was filled with nostalgic trends. OG American creators like the Sway House reunited, and Charli D’Amelio recreated the dances we spent hours learning during lockdown. But more than anything, another trend took creators by storm. Set to a Family Guy audio, influencers began admitting to embellishing some of their most popular content. While some of these fabrications were harmless, others completely undermined the brands these creators had built.

For me, the trend really took off when Niki DeMar from the Niki and Gabi channel admitted to the lies she and her twin told in the name of viral content. For instance, they filmed many of their videos in a content house, bought their own presents for “What I Got for Christmas” hauls, and never actually followed the morning routines they posted. This wasn’t unique to them—many beauty creators from that era have since confessed that those saturated, hyper-curated videos were entirely staged. Lifestyle YouTuber Aspyn Ovard even said in a TikTok, “I thought we knew.” While some creators agreed with her, Ovard seems to forget that much of her audience back then consisted of naive, impressionable middle school girls who didn’t know better—especially when YouTube was still an emerging platform.

Another corner of social media that lifted the curtain? Fitness influencers. Many admitted to taking substances, getting surgery, and not actually following the workout plans they promoted. Again, this is incredibly misleading for young viewers who just want to take control of their fitness journeys—only to be exploited by influencers trying to make a quick buck.

Then there were creators who admitted to never using the products they promoted—despite earning commission from them. At this point, we’re definitely breaking some kind of FTC guidelines with the level of deception taking place.

What I find strange is that TikTok creators would even engage in a trend like this. Presumably, they have other platforms where they can continue sharing content. But now that their audiences know their favorite influencers weren’t authentic at all, how are they supposed to trust them moving forward?

Of course, not everything we see on social media is real, and it is good that creators are willing to be honest with their audiences. However, it’s disappointing that it took the potential ban for all of this to come out. Influencers with large platforms—especially those catering to younger audiences—have a responsibility. The content their viewers consume as kids could inevitably shape them as adults. So, now that the app is back, I hope creators take this as an opportunity to reflect on their content and their relationship with their audience.

As for me? I think I’ll stick to Netflix for a while—at least there, I know everything is fake.

Anisya Nair has lived in three different states, learned three languages, and mastered three different dance forms. Outside of this strange affinity for the number three, she is a fourth-year Finance major and Accounting minor at the University of Texas at Austin.

Currently, she serves as the Editor in Chief for Her Campus at Texas and loves spreading her love for writing covering everything from cultural events, politics, and personal experiences. In her free time, she enjoys curating oddly specific Spotify playlists, exploring new eateries, working out, watching rom-coms and scrolling through Pinterest.