Are Influencers Influencing…or Just Copying Each Other?

Photo via instagram

Maybe this is an unpopular opinion, but I think we’ve reached a point where influencer culture has become so repetitive that it’s actually making everything feel less interesting.

I used to love social media because it felt like discovery.

You’d follow girls in New York because they all had their own style. One was into vintage. Another was finding underground restaurants. Someone else was walking through SoHo in the coolest outfit you’d ever seen. Every neighborhood had personality, every creator had a point of view, and every city felt different.

Now I can scroll through twenty videos and it feels like they were all made by the same person.

Move to New York.
Live in the West Village.
Wear the matching Alo or Set Active set.
Grab your matcha with almond milk (or whole milk if you’re feeling wild).
Go to Pilates.
Film your “Get Ready With Me” in the same mirror with the same headband.
Open your latest PR package—do you actually love it, or is a brand just sending you things to push?
Book a trip to the Hamptons… even if you don’t live anywhere near the East Coast.
Fly to Italy for the gondola picture in Lake Como.
Start a brand.
Get the same dachshund everyone else has.

And don’t get me wrong—none of these things are bad.

What bothers me is that it feels like everyone is chasing the exact same life.

Whatever happened to originality?

Influencers are supposed to influence. They’re supposed to show us something we haven’t seen before. Instead, it feels like everyone is influencing each other until they all start to look the same.

Not every interesting girl has to move to New York.

If you’re from Alabama, show me Alabama.
If you’re from Michigan, take me to Charlevoix or Torch Lake.
If you’re from Texas, show me the small beach towns and hidden gems.
If you’re from Wisconsin, Maine, Montana, Georgia, Nebraska, or the Carolinas—tell me why your hometown is worth visiting.

Every place has its own story.

Why are we all trying to tell the same one?

The same thing has happened to fashion.

When I was younger, the coolest outfit wasn’t the one everyone else had—it was the one nobody else could find.

You’d spend an afternoon in boutiques and vintage stores looking for something unique. You mixed brands. You styled things your own way. That was the fun of it.

Now fashion sometimes feels like one big unboxing video.

“I’m obsessed.”
“You guys need this.”
“My new favorite.”

But do you actually love it—or did it just show up for free?

The same goes for restaurants, hotels, vacations, and products.

Did you really love the restaurant, or was dinner comped?
Is that really your favorite hotel, or was the stay gifted?

Sometimes social media feels less like recommendations and more like commercials pretending not to be commercials.

And I think people are starting to notice.

Seeing that “No Influencers” sign in Nantucket actually made me think.

At first I thought, wow… that’s kind of rude.

But then I realized maybe it’s not about hating influencers. Maybe it’s about being frustrated with what influencer culture has become.

Growing up, I loved going to Martha’s Vineyard. Every once in a while we’d take the ferry over to Nantucket.

It wasn’t somewhere you went because it was trending.

It was somewhere you went because it was magical.

No big-box stores.
Little family-owned shops.
Cobblestone streets.
Ocean breeze.
Tiny cafés.
People who actually lived there sharing stories about the island.

It felt authentic.

Nantucket was one of those places you almost didn’t want to tell people about, because you wanted it to stay exactly the way it was.

Now one viral video can change a place overnight.

People fly across the country not because they genuinely want to experience it, but because someone they follow made it the place to be.

And I’m happy for creators who’ve built successful businesses—this isn’t about one person.

It’s about what happens when every hidden gem becomes content.

I had the funniest experience recently.

I saw a girl wearing a Nantucket DB sweatshirt and said, “Oh my gosh, don’t you love Nantucket?”

She smiled and said, “I’ve actually never been.”

There’s nothing wrong with that.

But it did make me realize how much things have changed.

Years ago, you’d buy a Nantucket sweatshirt because you’d been there. It was a souvenir. Every time you wore it, it brought you back to the ferry ride, the little shops, the beach, and the memories.

Now it sometimes feels like we’re buying the lifestyle before we’ve ever lived it.

As a small business owner, I completely understand wanting exposure. I love when people discover our store.I know firsthand how much support can change a business.

But I also understand that woman in Nantucket.

Sometimes money isn’t everything.

Sometimes protecting the character of a place matters too.

Not everything has to go viral.
Not every hidden gem needs to become an Instagram backdrop.
Not every neighborhood needs to become the next West Village.

I think what people are really craving isn’t another influencer.

They’re craving authenticity.

Show me where you actually live.
Show me what you genuinely love.
Introduce me to a designer no one’s heard of.
Support the small boutique instead of wearing what everyone else is wearing.
Tell me about the coffee shop that’s been in your town for 30 years instead of the one that’s trending this week.

Be the reason I discover something new—not the reason I buy the exact same thing as everyone else.

Because influence should inspire individuality.

Not create a world where everyone dresses the same, vacations in the same places, drinks the same drinks, and tells the same story.

The internet doesn’t need more clones.

It needs more originals.