Everybody wants to influence the world: Inside the fame, money and evolution of influencers

Amanda Diaz learned English growing up from watching YouTube beauty tutorials.

About a decade later, the 22-year-old Cuban immigrant has amassed nearly 6 million combined social media followers for her beauty, fashion, lifestyle and activism content. She's part of a new generation of influencers who grew up watching the original content creators online and understand that to succeed long term in the influencer space means to constantly adapt, connect and engage.

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"I was raised by creators, in a way," Diaz says. "When I moved here, I had a really hard time adjusting to moving to a new country, learning the language, learning the customs and I when I was in middle school, I just became obsessed with watching YouTube videos. I was so fascinated watching vlogs and seeing how people live their life."

Being a social media celebrity is a more than decade-old concept. Blogs and social media sites of the early 2000s gave way to a new form of self-expression that let global audiences in on the lives of regular people, turning them into viral stars sometimes overnight.

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Now, the influencer industry is at a crossroads. More people than ever are trying to get in on the influence boom, while viewers are craving authenticity and expecting more from the creators they follow. What does that mean for an industry rooted in being unattainable, cool and often closed off from reality?

“Fame looks completely different than it did five years ago,” says Christen Nino De Guzman, who previously worked for Instagram and TikTok, working directly with some of their top creators.

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It wasn’t until several years after Meghan Rienks started posting YouTube videos in 2010 that the term “influencer” entered the zeitgeist – and it was used mostly for bloggers and Instagram creators.

"At the start, a lot of us didn’t want to be known as influencers," says Rienks, 29. "But as I’ve been in this space longer, as platforms like TikTok have blown up … I have been more comfortable with the term influencer."

But "influencer" has caveats, Rienks says. "If you’re going to use the term that you’re an influencer, you better be understanding what influence means.”

"Influencer" has evolved past the stereotype of a vapid 20-something making a duck kissing face into a front-facing camera. While there are still some creators who try to make a quick buck selling gummy bear hair vitamins, it's also a multimillion dollar industry that has the power to dictate what followers all around the world value and pay attention to.

"This is the new entertainment," says LaToya Shambo, founder of influencer marketing agency Black Girl Digital. "TV is still there, but the phone is closer."

"You follow people who are either these larger-than-life, ‘wow, that’s aspirational’ types or the people that you feel like they’re right there next to you going through the same stuff at the same time," says New York-based influencer Katy Bellotte, 27, who aims to be the latter. "I don’t want people to ever feel like I’m better than them."

Creators who share only the most perfect aspects of their lives will continue to exist and even amass big followings. But their careers are ephemeral if they can’t find a way to connect authentically with followers.

“We’ve created an environment where we have niche communities that exist out there where people can find their tribe and really feel connected to people,” says Brad Hoos, CEO of influencer marketing agency The Outloud Group, which runs influencer campaigns for brands including Grubhub and Athletic Greens.

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Now in what's viewed as the second class or generation of online creators, the rules are shifting: both the scope of what it means to be successful and what is expected of individuals.

“There is a window of creators who’ve been able to maintain an audience over a long period of time," says Rienks. "I don’t know how much that’s still going to happen with creators now because it’s easier to blow up, but then it’s easier to fade away as well just based on how algorithms are now.”

While there are influencers who began on social media and have now reached conventional success – Emma Chamberlain, Charli D’Amelio, Addison Rae and more signed to major talent agencies and appear in film and TV  – mainstream is no longer the barometer for success.

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"Making it doesn’t always look like a million followers," says Bella Gerard, a 27-year-old fashion editor-turned-influencer. Some influencers do boast millions of followers, but others have much fewer and still do very well. Ultimately, Gerard says, a successful influencer is one who has an engaged community that trusts their recommendations.

"There's a difference between having an audience and having an audience that's engaged," adds Isabella Muggeo, an account manager for influencer marketing firm gen.video.

And because the reach of influencers varies so wildly, so do their revenues.

Some micro-influencers might make a couple of hundred dollars off a single Instagram post or TikTok video. Others with larger followings could make tens of thousands of dollars doing the same. Gerard says she made half of the annual salary she was making as a fashion editor in one week of posting during New York Fashion Week. Nino De Guzman has seen 18-year-olds purchase Lamborghinis and Bentleys with the millions they’ve collected through TikTok.

How do influencers make money?

It depends on their platforms of choice, but typically it’s a mix of brand deals, affiliate links, YouTube ad revenue, paid newsletters, or podcasts. TikTok, Instagram and YouTube have creator funds, designed to pay influencers based on the viewership they bring in, though these funds are usually a very small fraction of what a creator makes if anything.

Some influencers have day jobs and do influencing on the side. Others treat content creation as full-time jobs. Gerard worked as the fashion and lifestyle editor for StyleCaster before shifting to full-time influencing and freelancing last year.

"I finally realized, to be frank, that I could be doing something I like just as much and making more money influencing," says Gerard.

But, as Gerard notes, quitting your day job isn’t for everyone – and lack of expertise may get in the way of building a successful brand. "A lot of times people follow you for your day job because it’s a big part of your personality. I think sometimes influencers gain followers and then end up losing the way because they abandoned the thing that makes them them."

Influencing isn’t just for New York and Los Angeles. Sure, it's easier to attend fashion, entertainment, or food events in major cities, but influencers can build an aspirational lifestyle anywhere.

Take Adassa Phillips, a 25-year-old master's student at the University of Maryland by day and a Washington, D.C., area food influencer by night. Her schedule, while often grueling, isn’t uncommon – many influencers, particularly ones outside of the NY/LA bubbles, treat social media fame as a side gig.

"I found it to be just the most realistic for my path, but for some people, it’s because they want that stability of knowing that you have a steady income from a 9-5," Phillips says.

Paying for rent, health care and a lifestyle that makes others want to watch isn’t cheap, which is why many who are able to make influencing their full-time job come from backgrounds that allow freedom to pursue a ‘gram-worthy life without worrying about where the next paycheck comes from.

"Growing up with privilege, whether it be your race, class, the money you grew up with, the connections: I had all of that," says Kit Keenan, 23, a former contestant on “The Bachelor" and daughter of fashion designer Cynthia Rowley. "I'm very lucky and will never say it didn't affect my career, because it absolutely did. I would not be doing what I'm doing without all of those things."

"The space, in general, is the Wild, Wild West and there is no right or wrong rate card, per se, and everyone's kind of making up what they consider their worth and value," Shambo says. "Brands are being cheap and stingy with budgets as it relates to Black women creators, but I think they're becoming more aware of it. It's just a slow shift."

That slow shift means the industry still largely favors thin, cisgender white women, in part, those in the industry say because many of those behind-the-scenes in positions of power – the ones who send PR packages that influencers show off in haul posts or the ones who invite influencers to exclusive events that boost their credibility – resemble them and don't always take steps to ensure diversity among those on their lists.

"A lot of the influencer liaisons at brands are white women and so they gift primarily to white women," Keenan says. "And when you are getting a bunch of free products, you're able to show your followers. Your life is more interesting: You have the newest cool products to show and don't have to spend any money on them."

Another reason some influencers believe they’re getting the short end of the stick is because of a lack of cohesiveness and transparency in the industry – if everyone can get paid different amounts and nobody is sharing their salaries, those in the minority get short-changed. Nino De Guzman founded Clara for Creators, an online community that seeks to help creators address pay disparities by increasing salary transparency.

"What I was seeing personally is Black creators had their community of other Black creators, so they might talk within their community to each other, but that's very siloed communication," Nino De Guzman says. "So if one of them or a couple of Black creators in a group of friends are being underpaid, then that circle might be (all) being underpaid. The idea is let's make information on pay available and accessible to everyone."

Phillips has witnessed these disparities firsthand: “I talk to other creators where we have the same amount of engagement and the same amount of followers and yet we’re getting different PR packages and we’re getting different pay rate acceptances," she says. "That can be frustrating for me because I’m not being accepted for my worth."

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Showing off a lifestyle or aesthetic that others find appealing is still a major draw for hitting “like” or "follow." But above that, many influencers have realized they need to be informed and open with their followers to have staying power.

Among audiences, there’s a decreasing tolerance for influencers who seem out of touch with the real world. "People are tired of the like, 'I woke up skinny and rich and then I got on the internet and told everybody that I was skinny and rich,'" says interior design influencer Imani Keal, 27. "I think people want to follow people that feel more realistic, that feel like real people."

Viewers make it known when they have gripes, commenting directly on an influencer’s post, sharing their own social media commentary or flocking to influencer snark-filled subreddit pages to critique someone presenting an overly-polished version of their life or spreading hate or misinformation to a major following.

Washington, D.C.-based influencer Jade Womack calls it "a sign of the times: Everyone is struggling right now, right? And so if you're posting, 'Everything's great, I'm having so much fun and went to this great party and had this great meal,' that's not really what everyone else is experiencing."

In addition to sharing stylish content from red carpets and stunning vacation settings, Diaz is also open with her followers about how her experiences as an immigrant and refugee served as her inspiration for championing voting rights. In 2022, she visited the White House to champion Latina voices and interviewed Vice President Kamala Harris about midterm elections.

"I had a moment earlier this year where I was looking at my career … and I really had to sit with myself and say, 'Amanda, what is it that you want to do with this platform that's going to positively impact people?'" Diaz says. "What's the point of having a platform if you're not going to do something positive with it?"

This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: Influencer industry: Inside the fame, money of TikTok, Instagram stars