Even NYC influencers are sick of New York mega-influencers

Sai Ananda planned to steer clear of the heated debate that raged on TikTok last month.

To recap: A popular TikToker who goes by MartiniFeeny made a viral video saying New York lifestyle influencers were boring, bashing their “carbon-copy” appearance, “matching bracelets” and how “basic” they are — “but they’re skinny and pretty, so stuff looks cute on them.”

That rant got 2.4 million views and prompted major influencers like Acquired Style (whose real name is Brigette Pheloung) to produce a response video. Some critics faulted MartiniFeeny, who is white, for following predominantly white, wealthy creators and then complaining about social media being boring.

Less than a week later, Ananda, who has branded herself a “niche internet micro celebrity,” decided to join the debate. She posted about feeling excluded from the drama – and not wanting to get involved in “yt on yt” crime, using slang for “white people” – in a video that also went viral. In her opinion, there was little point in joining a conversation that had left her out from the very beginning.

Ananda’s take – that she and many content creators are not receiving as much attention as their wealthy, white counterparts – is part of an ongoing discussion on TikTok among local influencers. They’re grappling with issues of class and race – and who gets to flaunt theirs, sometimes for considerable profit, on social media.

Many of the comments on Ananda’s post agreed with her assessment that for too long, social media and its marketing dollars have followed a certain kind of a New York City lifestyle influencer: namely a young, white, thin, wealthy woman. This is also backed by data: Several studies have identified pay gaps between Black and white content creators.

“Watching specific influencers does feel like we’re in the Hunger Games and they’re posting from the Capitol because there’s such a disparity,” Ananda said in a phone interview.

Ananda and other TikTok users interviewed for this piece said the success divide among influencers is also fueled by class differences, to which they say many popular influencers are oblivious.

And while income inequality is not a new issue, it’s attracting newfound attention on TikTok: Economic worries are mounting in the U.S. as many young adults carry burdensome student debt and contend with rents rising faster than wages.

“People are having to work more than one job, more than seventy hours a week, on their feet all day. And they get online and they see these influencers on their For You page that are complaining about having to wake up and go to a workout class at 5 a.m. and how hard it is to film a day in their life,” Ananda said.

Pheloung, for instance, who as Acquired Style is one of the most popular influencers in the city, often films videos with her identical twin, Danielle. They’re both platinum blonde and share clips of their workouts, decked in Alo Yoga, a brand that sells leggings for as high as $170. Acquired Style’s linked “Shop Me” shows users what they can buy to look like her, including suede jackets for nearly $500.

Other content from top NYC lifestyle influencers revolves around travel to expensive island resorts, shopping or pilates classes. One local influencer came under fire at the 2024 Met Gala for posting a video in an elaborate 18th century-style gown and using the audio “let them eat cake,” while protestors gathered outside on the museum steps.

Ananda said her video prompted people to follow “real” New Yorkers in a “follow train,” where smaller influencers started tagging each other or pitching themselves as a new local to follow. And in the wake of the March debate, a new crop of creators has emerged. New York Magazine dedicated an entire cover story to some of the influencers that aren’t so “boring.”

The influencers that people like Ananda want to follow are more likely to share gritty takes about what it’s like to live in the city as 20-somethings with limited means. They might not have the best camera quality or their own management teams, but they’ll show you the New York above 14th Street. Or above 125th Street, for that matter. Most aren’t wealthy. Most aren’t white. And many say they’re finally getting their time to shine.

“I’ve seen a big uptick in my followers,” said Django Buenz, a 20-year-old creator who was born and raised in New York and who regularly posts thoughts about politics and class for her nearly 35,000 followers.

“When small creators are filming their own reality — of not being a millionaire — it just comes off as so much more authentic and the real New York experience,” she said.

People are sick of things that aren’t reflective of the “real” New York, said Kennedy Royal, a local TikTok creator whose videos focus on what she sees as more realistic ways to spend a day in the city: taking the train, trying to save money in graduate school.

There’s a reason people are now rethinking and critiquing lavish displays of wealth: When people are stressed about their finances, they don’t want to see people's flash designer purses, according to Carrera Kurnik, a cultural strategist who researches digital media “artifacts”— including social media videos that might offer some perspective about society. She launched the TikTok account internet.anthropology after getting a master’s degree in Sociocultural Anthropology from Columbia University.

To Kurnik, influencer “purges” – when people unfollow someone en masse – coincide with the state of the economy, akin to how lipstick sales are thought to be an indicator of a nation’s finances. She said that as we approach the brink of a recession, many small creators and followers alike are likely to feel “betrayed” by influencers with completely different lives.

“There is a major correlation between people’s spending power and whether we want aspiration influencers who flash money and show a glamorous life, or if we want what I would call ‘inspirational’ influencers,” Kurnik said .

She said today’s backlash mirrors a similar one that happened during the start of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, when there was a “purge of specifically aspirational influencers.”

People will always look to influencers to “understand status signifiers,” she said. But they want New York City influencers to go beyond that. To show not just the best bar — but the best bar for someone like them.

“People are saying, these influencers do not represent us. I’m not going to find my community in Dimes Square,” she said. “New York is a lot of things to so many people. I’m glad we’re having this conversation, and from this, we’re seeing the rise of a lot of new, New York voices.”