|
I’m writing a post, coming this weekend for paid subs, about the things I saw and loved on our recent family trip to Nantucket. But I feel I can’t write a post about Nantucket without addressing the elephant in the room that’s brought up so much (tooooo much) discourse lately: that “No Influencers” sign that was put up by Four Winds Craft Guild, an established small business on the island. The whole thing fascinates me.
 |
While I knew influencers flocked to Nantucket, that wasn’t why I chose the island three years ago for our first family trip. Honestly, we chose it because there are direct flights from D.C. in under 2 hours, we had a tiny baby, and it was lauded as an incredibly family-friendly place to travel. Ding ding ding! And this is what we’ve found: Nantucket is a beautiful, idyllic, kid-friendly place to visit. (There are downsides, too: it is very expensive and glaringly lacks racial diversity, something I’ve felt more each year we’ve gone.)
So when the “no influencers” sign popped up a few weeks ago on my Instagram feed, I tuned in immediately. The photo took on a life of its own as people on the internet imbued it with their own meaning in the comments: that influencers are a pest and represent the worst of our modern, hyperconsumerist, disconnected society.
The intent behind the sign was, in my opinion, innocent enough and a stance I can actually get behind: the store owner wanted more engagement and conversation from visitors, and fewer phone cameras in and out, according to their interview with the New York Times. The desire for human connection is real!
 |
Overall, I find the conversation surrounding the sign to be fascinating and indicative of our current culture. My guess is that much of the broader ire stems from seeing a specific set of influencers who regularly share $30,000 Hermès handbag hauls on Instagram while many people work 9-5 just to get by. Or maybe the anger is aimed at travel influencers who hype up a hidden-gem local spot until it becomes overcrowded and “ruined” for everyone else. (Who hasn’t dealt with this lately?) In an era of hyper-consumerism, stark economic disparity, and being tethered to our phones when most of us just really want to get offline, influencers are a convenient place to focus all that frustration.
What else I think complicates this whole thing is that I think most people are “influencers” at this point. If you’re sharing your thoughts and the things you like online (hi), you’re an influencer.
I’ve struggled with calling myself an influencer, and I don’t self-identify as one. I follow and am friends with full-time influencers, so this is not a knock on them. I personally don’t want my primary job and identity to be wrapped up in monetizing my lifestyle—something I’m actively working on untangling currently, since so much of, well, this newsletter has been exactly that! Unnecessary consumption vs. thoughtful and authentic recommendation is a line I always aim to toe carefully in my content. I do not want my legacy to be driving sales to Amazon Prime deals! I do want to continue sharing beautiful things, books, and media I’m genuinely excited about—in a way that feels fun and not like it’s my whole identity.
 |
This whole saga makes me wonder: Are we really hating on influencers when we say “no influencers,” or are we just saying to put down your damn phone? We’ve reached peak online and it’s time for the pendulum to swing back to peak offline.
Anyway, I think the sign must have done its job, because I didn’t see a single person filming a TikTok on Main Street last week.
I’m curious what you make of all this—and how you feel about influencers right now.
Coming up next for my paid subs: A meaty trip recap, including the design details I saw and loved, the best thing I ate and want to recreate, and what I learned about “vacationing” as a parent. Now is a great time to upgrade as I