There used to be a reality star formula. It was honed over two long decades of 21st-century TV – from the time when just shoving people into a CCTV-laden house in Stratford was enough to stir up scandal, followed by the era of “constructed reality” à la TOWIE, and then the grand cultural ascension of Love Island. Essentially, it went something like this: get on a show, get followers, get a six-figure brand deal with Pretty Little Thing, BoohooMan or the fast fashion company most in need of an ethical rinse, and – if popular – pivot that into a fashion line, a book deal and a BBC Three documentary series. Or, if you’re less popular, hitch a ride onto the talk show circuit, then the club-night circuit, then, eventually, the second-tier reality show circuit. And across all success-stratas, there’s the goal of perpetual paid content. Instagram ads for teeth whitening kits and fake tan. Protein shakes. Gifted items and discount codes. Every moment recorded, edited and monetised, so the “reality show” never really ends.
Recently, though, there’s been a shift. The apparently seamless journey from reality star to influencer – which sees people go from publicly performing their personality on nightly TV to doing it for the lucrative attention of phone screens – has had a major wobble. For at least six months now, marketing websites, trend forecasters and media publications have all been proclaiming the same thing: the era of the influencer is coming to an end.
