I fell in love with a social media influencer. I could say there are three people in our relationship but I’d be lying. There are 63,423.
Imagine a world in which your partner’s private life is his professional life: with thousands of fawning acolytes all vying for his approval, all competing for online traction — a traction that comes from your other half’s thumbs. His fingers hover over the phone rather a lot, giving updates into whatever he’s up to. It’s a little disconcerting.
Life with an influencer can be challenging. Every trip must be documented, every meal photographed prior to consumption. I’ve lost count of the number of times I have prematurely reached for a morsel only to have my hand slapped away so that the plateful in question can be snapped. Did we order for us — or his followers?
Work trips abroad for social media stars are often chaperoned. This means being escorted by what most men in their fifties might call a ‘hot chick’. It is not so easy to watch your man — the person you reprimand for forgetting to wash up — being wined, dined and mercilessly flattered by a group of mortals with fewer ‘likes’.
The most terrifying thing about dating an influencer is that his past life has already been well documented. Every dinner with his previous lover has been catalogued and every excursion filmed. You simply must resist the temptation to look.
I was told of an influencer who organised a glamorous and Instagrammable photo-op birthday party for her partner months in advance on the assumption that she would attend. But the couple broke up and her replacement went in her place. The influencer in question was too scared of being blocked by her now ex to make a fuss, since he had a much bigger platform online.
Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in