'Maybe you'll realise what you have is good enough': Why influencers are facing a pushback

Rejecting the "haul" culture of excessive shopping and promoting conscious consuming, the de-influencer movement is going mainstream – here's why.

In 2019, Diana Wiebe was deep in a social media scroll when she came across an influencer promoting heatless curling rods. "They were rods you could sleep in overnight, and the promise was to wake up with beautiful curls," she tells the BBC. 

It was one of many products she was influenced to buy from TikTok, but like several of the others, including skin creams and facial scrubs, she quickly realised she didn't need them. "Honestly, the curlers really disrupted my sleep, and I didn't make it past night one," she says, adding "my hair is naturally wavy, so I think the curler actually did too much". 

Fast forward to 2025, and Wiebe, who lives in Ohio, is now an influencer herself, but there is a difference between her and many others. She is trying to "de-influence" her followers from buying things they don't need. 

In her daily TikTok videos, the content creator – who has more than 200,000 followers on the app – asks questions like "did you want that product before it was marketed to you?", and reminds her followers that weekly and monthly clothing "hauls" are not normal. "Haul" culture is a specific kind of social-media content that originated on YouTube in which creators reveal a haul of purchases – usually clothing – to their followers.

Wiebe is part of a movement – growing since 2023 – that rejects traditional influencer culture, one that has exploded on TikTok, with the hashtag #deinfluencing racking up more than a billion views.  

Along with hashtags like "underconsumption core" and "conscious consumer", they share key messages, such as "fast fashion won't make you stylish" and "underconsumption is normal consumption". As we move into 2025, Wiebe believes the cultural tide is turning and that we've reached "peak influencer".  

"Some of the content from influencers is just rage-bait", she says, referencing the internet tactic of posting content to incite anger and generate views. "People will do ridiculous things with, like, their water bottles, where they'll add a snack tray, and then they'll fill it with Taco Bell or something," she explains, describing the videos where creators showcase their Stanley Cups fitted with needless accessories.

TikTok has become the default home for influencers, but with the app facing an uncertain future in the US, Wiebe believes it's a time of change. "I don't know the future of TikTok, but the kind of influencing we see on there doesn't happen on other apps", she says, mentioning how prolific haul content has become on TikTok, versus other platforms like Instagram. 

Wiebe thinks this shift stems from an increased awareness of what influencers actually do (in the UK there are laws in place to address this). "When I started seeing more adverts on my TikTok timeline, I thought about how much I'd already purchased in the last few years because of influencer reviews," she says. "It suddenly hit me that it was all advertising, from paid promotional content to the creators sharing hauls. It's not like watching TV, where you can recognise a commercial. Influencers feel like hearing from a friend or family member because we almost view our favourite TikTokers as people we know." 

Most of Wiebe's interactions online are positive, with comments like, "I needed to hear this advice today". Others, however, question why she feels the need to meddle in other people's shopping habits. Wiebe is keen to stress that she's not advocating for a "no-buy" lifestyle. Instead, she describes herself as a fan of "slowing down and really thinking through purchases before rushing". Her advice is the opposite of the familiar influencer slogan encouraging viewers to "run, don't walk," in order to purchase the latest product.   

It's this same mindset that led Christina Mychaskiw to adopt a more mindful approach to spending. Through her posts on YouTube, TikTok and Instagram, she aims to help others live a fulfilling life, "without going broke". 

Mychaskiw says she knows first hand how powerful influencers can be. "Back in 2019, I was $120,000 CAD in debt through student loans, and I was still buying week after week. I hit rock bottom when I bought a pair of boots that cost more than my rent, even though I knew I couldn't afford them." 

The Toronto-based content creator says she felt trapped in a cycle of "Instagram versus reality", she tells the BBC. "I had this idea of what my life should look like based on my career and what my peers were doing."

It's a theme Mychaskiw often discusses on her podcast, where she hears from listeners struggling with both the constant pressure to buy and the disappointment when products fail to meet expectations. "People don't see the value in what they're buying anymore. The promise of these items just isn't living up to expectations. It feels like everything is getting more and more expensive, but lower quality and less satisfying." 

Mychaskiw doesn't want people to make the same mistake she did, initially going cold-turkey on consumption, and living a minimalist life – which, she says, made her miserable. She's since come to a half-way house – treating herself from time to time, but reminding herself before hitting the shops, to "shop her wardrobe" first.  

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The content creator has now written off her student debt. Her advice for others? "Get off your phone. Scrolling and constantly consuming content makes you more likely to give in to subliminal messages," she says. "Put the phone down, touch grass, play with your wardrobe, and use what you already have to create fun looks. Maybe you'll realise what you have is good enough."

According to stylist Lucinda Graham, constantly consuming fast fashion is not only bad for your finances and the environment – but for your personal style too. "Think of it like cooking" she tells the BBC. "If you make something quick, it's nice but can't compete with a dish that's been cooked for over 48 hours with care and effort. It's the same with fast fashion versus a wardrobe that has been carefully chosen."  

Graham advises anyone finding their own style to be patient. "Personal style needs time to develop and experiment with the same pieces. Crucially, it's also about buying what you like, versus what is trend-driven," she says. "With influencers persuading us to buy clothes, we're buying items that represent the lifestyle of someone else, and trying to emulate their life, but that doesn't result in a practical wardrobe". 

Graham's approach means she's deliberate about new purchases, and values letting her clothes "age" over time. "I have a jacket which I've owned for six years, and I love styling it," she explains. "There's something nice about watching clothes change. Right now, used carpenter jackets and distressed Carhartt pants are in fashion, but instead of buying them from a vintage shop, why not get a pair and let them age overtime". 

She says the same is true about trends. "Fast fashion will never be authentic. If we look at indie sleaze for example, those classic looks come from people who genuinely live that lifestyle, not because they've bought ripped jeans online." 

"The key to breaking that cycle and working out what you like is making more intentional purchases by cutting out the small, impulsive ones." 

It's hard to say whether the de-influencing movement is impacting brands just yet. We know online giants like Asos, Boohoo, and Pretty Little Thing have struggled with falling demand and changing consumer habits in recent years. However, let's not forget that many timelines are still flooded with influencers. In 2023, the global influencer marketing industry was estimated to be worth $21.1 bn this year, more than doubling in size since 2019.  

In Aja Barber's opinion, with content creation still seen as an aspirational career, we haven't reached "peak influencer" yet. Barber is the author of the book Consumed: On Colonialism, Climate Change, Consumerism, and the Need for Collective Change; she thinks the de-influencer movement is helpful but believes the conversation needs to be offline to change people's spending.   

The author, who is also a contributing editor of Elle, says we all have a role to play. "From the billionaire-company-owners to influencers and us as consumers," she tells the BBC. "On social media, I had a postal worker reach out to me, who said they delivered a Shein package to one house 17 times in a month."

Some estimates suggest that more than 100 billion items of clothing are produced globally each year, with well over half ending up in landfill within 12 months. Often, the unwanted clothing is exported to African and Asian countries, where up to 40% can be dumped, rather than resold, and which charities say has contributed to water pollution as well as to health risks. 

We're now almost a century on from the 1930s, when women owned about 60 items of clothing, and bought five new items annually. Reflecting on how things have changed, Barber says "the goal is to sell as many products as possible. We need to get real about the damage that everyday individuals are doing through the idea that we can just consume and consume, and it has no negative impact. That's not true." 

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